Natalie Lloyd's Blog, page 4

publishers weekly. whaaat?!

Pigs are flying. Lightning is striking twice. I recently saw Christian Bale in a film and experienced no physical attraction to him whatsoever.

And A Snicker of Magic got a starred review (!!!!) in Publishers Weekly. 

Clearly, it is a season when the impossible is possible.

I was buying a birthday present (a vanilla sandalwood candle from World Market*) when I heard my phone go buzzy in my bag. The email was from my agent, Suzie the Avenger. She sent me a picture of The Review. It's a good thing I was back to my car, because I shrieked. And bounced up and down. And maybe cried just a little bit. Basically, I had a breakdown on account of this review. But in a good way. I'm surprised and excited and so, so grateful. I still can't believe it happened.

I had decided not to read any reviews at all, and I still try not to do that unless my agent or editor send them. I realize some authors read reviews and they're fine with it. But I think unfavorable reviews will always feel like a punch in the gut to me. I know it's not personal. I don't expect everybody to like what I write. I think people should react and interact with a book however they want. But I think lots of authors probably fare better if they don't read reviews. Reading them is a sure-fired way to blow your creativity to bits. I used to think I needed to grow thicker skin, or tougher skin, or whatever kind of leathery skin people tell you to grow when you start writing. But I have a theory that sensitivity is essential to good writing. That it's the gateway to some of the best writing a person can do. So I'm going to stay sensitive for now. And try not to read reviews.

But my word, I'm grateful for this one.

I'm stunned. Thank you, PW! You made me want to hug the world today.

Here's the review in full, if you'd like to take a gander:

http://publishersweekly.com/978-0-545-55270-7

* And not to hock a candle or anything, but you should go take a whiff of this vanilla sandalwood stuff. Usually if a candle smells like the beach, it smells like sunscreen or limes. This smells like you're alone in a beach house on a rocky shore somewhere in Maine, watching a storm roll in. It's dreamy. 

in which we discuss facebook, story-seasons, and a tree stump.

So I'm beginning to realize that, until sometime in March, I'll probably be sharing story-related posts. The last thing I want is to turn this blog into a perpetual neon arrow pointing to myself like, Look, ye! This girl is the best thing since Starburst invented Yon Bags of Reds!

But I don't want you to miss some of the things that are happening. And I like it when authors talk about the behind-the-scenes moments of their book, so I thought you might, too. And if updates and behind-the-scenes stuff happens to be your bag, I now have an author Facebook page to absorb some of this information (and share pictures of my sweet dog). You are most welcome to kick off your shoes and come visit!


Here's the link:  http://tinyurl.com/mwxc7ml

This blog has really only ever been a place to ponder the whimsy in my world. It has never been organized enough to have a theme. Or any kind of tagline. I'm not a "blogger." I prefer to focus on what I love on here, and write about whatever makes my heart spin. I think the format of blogging can be fun, and I've tried to make this a mix of writing-related endeavors and more candid thoughts. For this particular story-season, those two spheres are about to eclipse.

The other day I was chatting about Book Stuff with one of my closest friends, aka the amazingly talented author Jenny B. Jones. (Who still won't write a sequel to Save the Date no matter how hard I beg.) (But I beg weekly, because persistence is one of my strengths.) And she said, "You are an idiot if you don't document all this somehow."

Now, I realize she did not mean that everything happening needs to be documented on a blog.

But, truth: this will never happen again.

And I don't mean it like: I will never write another book again. I'm presently working on my second novel for Scholastic, and I am over the moon about working with them again. That's such a gift, and I'm not taking it lightly.

I just mean that no day happens twice. I don't remember who said, "Everything is a once in a lifetime experience." But it's a quote I've been thinking through lately.

Just working with Scholastic was a dream come true. I never thought people would connect with this story so soon. I didn't think I'd get to talk stories with so many fellow, wonderful, kindred-spirit booknerds. It's been a dream. I'm so grateful that even Felicity Pickle couldn't find the right word to express it. Not everything in the past year has been a dream, of course. There have been some really dark days to push through, too. That's always how it is, isn't it? Some days, you're in the Shire. Some days, you're in the bowels of Mordor.

But the story part of this season has been one of the sweetest experiences I'll ever have.

And still, I'm always so conscious of the balance between sharing good news, and encouraging you as you write ... vs. writing what becomes the virtual equivalent of standing on a tree stump and blowing my own horn.

... I don't know why I imagined a tree stump in that scenario. Is it because I'm short? Ha!

So for a while, blog posts will be short, and lots of them will be updates. But please don't read between the lines that I think I'm awesome. I'm not. Proof: I just asked ModCloth to email me when they re-stock My Little Pony coffee mugs.

(Nothing brings all the boys to the yard like Lord of the Rings and My Little Pony references, just fyi. Form an orderly line, gents!)

I'm trying to find a way to document all of this somehow. And I want to share it with you however I can. I hope you'll be patient with me while I figure out the right balance.

If you read anything between the lines of these updates it's this:

You're not out of time.
You haven't missed your chance.

I don't know the shine of your particular dreams, but I know they're worth dreaming. Don't just stare at them until you see spots. Run at them with your whole heart. I don't believe the old adage that hard work gets you exactly where you want; it does not. I've known too many kind, intelligent, talented men and women who seem to get nothing but unlucky breaks .... for no other reason than the crappy fact that life is really, really hard and dark days are a plenty. But good days are coming, too. And sometimes all the work you've done, and that tricky, tricky thing called timing, align in a magical way.

So here's to stars in your eyes and stardust on your eyelashes and the brave, brave heart you wear on your sleeve.

Steady on, sweet dreamer. It's a story-season, after all.

a word like roar.

So you would love Meg; she is wonderful and whimsical and currently studying at Belmont. If you attend Belmont too, you really, really need to make this girl one of your life-long-forever college friends because I'm not kidding, she's fabulous.

Meg told me that she had a painting in her dorm room based on a quote here on the blog. (This, you should know, is not why she's fabulous. She's just a wonderful person in general. But the painting is so lovely, that I couldn't wait to share.) And then she showed me a picture ... and I was overwhelmed by all the pretty.

This is the work of a lovely artist named Lauren Holley. (And this is Lauren in the picture, holding her creation.)


I LOVE IT! I am honored that quote was art-worthy! And I'm so happy to know it's in a dorm room.




Thank you for sharing this with me Lauren and Meg! I'm nuts about it! Hugs to you!

I think I wrote the post with that quote two years ago, when I picked "roar" as my word of the year. I picked it because anxiety is such a constant force in my life. And even though I've dealt with anxiety long enough to know how to manage it, I still have a hard time finding my brave sometimes. Being shy is a crutch I lean on a bit too much, I think. Please don't misunderstand me: it is perfectly, wonderfully okay to be shy. But it's one thing to be shy because that's who you are, because you connect better with one or two people then ginormous groups, or because you need a little space, or you're contemplative, or need to acclimate to a new situation before you dive into it. All that is lovely. But too much of my shyness blooms out of insecurity, I think. And my fearful trepidation was causing me to miss out on some great things. So I made Roar my word of the year. And that was even before Katy Perry made the word cool.

Here's a fun note: I don't know why Lauren decided to paint the quote on a hot-air balloon, but a hot-air balloon is a key part of my novel.

Slight tangent: In a plot-twist I couldn't have expected ... I'll be in several new places this year, talking about the novel. I get to participate some incredible events in the coming months, including ALA, which I have dreamed of attending for so long. I get to talk about Felicity's story with people who love books, and who love to connect the right book with the right reader. I am thrilled, and so grateful. And yet it's still a conscious decision I have to make to push through the sinky-swampy fear.

Somehow, little by little, it keeps on happening.

If there's anything I've learned in the past two years, besides how to pop my hood with pliers (because my car is old and the hood latch is broken), it's this;

Just on the other side of my fear, there's nearly always a view so beautiful I can't even believe it. Some dreams are worth roaring for. Absolutely.

I hope you roar at 2014, sweet friends. You've got it in you. You truly do.

Did you pick a word as your theme for 2014? I'm thinking of the word curate. I don't like the sound of the word, but I really like the meaning. 

books and bake sales.

When I was in elementary school, these were a few of my favorite things:

- Art.
- Ice Cream after lunch. I don't think schools do this anymore. RIP, Creamsicles.
- Fridays, because we could drink Coke during recess. Also, I could sleep late the next day.
- Reading. And English. And creative writing, regardless of the subject.
- Recess. Because I could sit at the picnic tables and read.
- PE. Because I couldn't participate (I have brittle bones), which meant I got to sit in the bleachers and read.
- Library day. Because ... you know.
- BAKE SALES. Do schools still have these? Billy Miller's mom the best cupcakes.
- Parties. Especially Halloween parties. I would have worn a Halloween costume to school every single day if I could have.

- BOOK ORDERS!!

(Which are no longer called "book orders"... I don't think. But they function in the same, amazing capacity.)

My BFF, who is a teacher, called me when our elementary school stopped selling ice cream and removed the pop machines. ("Soda" machines, is what some folks call them.) That was tragic. I'm sure kids are way healthier now, but woe. WOE! Some days, the only thing that got me through horrible fractions was knowing I could have a Creamsicle after lunch, ya know?

Time changes many things.

Time does not change the wonder that is ... a Scholastic Bookclub Flyer. (Book orders, if you're old school. But I much prefer the word "flyer".)

I remember being so happy on the day my class got book orders. Seeing what was new. What was on sale. Sketching pencil stars besides the maybe's and hearts beside the DEFINITELY'S.  My parents usually told me I had like $5-$10 to buy books and I took my budget very seriously.

I treasured the book order. And then came the excitement when the box arrived, and teachers doled out new books. The covers were shiny and the pages were crisp, just waiting for my Cheetoh fingerprints to fill the margins. Like smudged, orange snowflakes. Sigh. It was a beautiful sight.

Seriously though: please allow me a moment to be a dork:

Over the weekend I received this kind, wonderful tweet:


Gah!!!!!

Thank you, Justin! 

And then, today, I saw A Snicker of Magic in a Scholastic book order (the one I saw is for 4th grade, I think). I had ... a moment. One of those strange and rare and wonderful moments when time folds a little bit. First came the echo-feeling the same joy I felt back when I got book orders. And then the WHOA moment.

I wrote a novel. And it's in the January Scholastic flyer!

Wayside School is Falling Down was one of my favorite books when I was in middle school. So there are no words for how this feels:


As Felicity would say, " My heard kicked yes inside my chest ... YES YES YES! " :)

I'm showing you this for a reason besides me getting sappy:

The copy of A Snicker of Magic sold through Scholastic Book Clubs is paperback, and it only costs $4. 

That makes me so, so very happy. Teachers and students who can't afford to splurge on a hardback right now (or have a tight book budget) might still be able to swing this copy, if they want one. Happy, happy day!

(Just so you know, the copy you pre-order, or wait and buy, at your bookstore or online retailer is a hardback copy. For now, this particular paperback version is exclusive to Scholastic Book Clubs.)

The most surreal part of all of this is knowing that maybe, maybe, somebody will like the book enough to put it on their shelf, and keep it in their heart for a while. A teacher might pull my book out of the Scholastic box in a few months. That's just nuts.

I'm so blessed to be any part of this story-world. So grateful I get to spend so much time doing what I love.

Hooray for new books. And big dreams that take root when you are very, very small. And Creamsicles, too. Hooray for those.

Hooray for sweet moments.

Felicity Pickle sounds like ...

Good Morning! I know it's not very creative to talk about the weather but I hear the low in Chattanooga this morning is six degrees.

SIX. DEGREES.

I feel like the Snow Queen has cast a spell on my city. I get to stay inside today (hooray!) but this weather is just bizarre. My brother just moved to Denver, and I predicted he'd have to learn to drive a snow plow and walk with the tennis-racket-esc snow shoes cartoon characters wear during blizzards. (Are those legit?) It might be colder here today than it is in Colorado. The Snow Queen is near, I tell you. I can feel it! 

I was in a store last night with my mom. When we left, I saw the first snowflakes I'd seen in a long time so of course, of course, I pretended I was Elsa and sang all the way to the car.

Mom was thrilled. *sarcasm*



Anyway.

I thought about writing a long, sappy Farewell to 2013/Hello 2014! post. And I probably will, eventually. That's the way of things. But now that I know I can share some fun news, I thought that would be a better way to throw some confetti over this new year.

Here's what's up in Midnight Gulch:

In two months (!!!), Felicity Juniper Pickle will make her way bravely into the world. And into your hearts, ideally. (I mean, there's always a risk you'll just want to use the pages to line your guinea pig's cage but I hope you actually enjoy reading it.) I still can't believe my novel comes out this year. I feel like it's all a big dream. I don't know if it will ever feel real. There is a load of anxiety and worry that comes with a moment like this (*cue Kelly Clarkson song*). I hear that's normal.

But there is so much happy, too. Sometimes the wonder of it all smashes me flat, and it's the sweetest feeling.

This is a smash-me-flat kind of moment:

Scholastic is releasing A Snicker of Magic in audio!

As Felicity would say, "SPINDIDDLY!"



Cassandra Morris is an amazingly talented actress, and I am so grateful and excited she's bringing Felicity to life! When I heard her read a snippet of the book, I thought my heart might thump right out of my chest. She captured exactly what I heard in Felicity's voice: all the wonder and worry and fear. And hope, always. It was such a surreal moment to actually hear that voice hit the air. I'll never forget it. I can't wait for you to hear!

Now that we're only a few months out, I'll be writing more about the book (fun stuff like what inspired it, my favorite scenes, my "soundtrack" :). I won't drive you bananas with that sort of thing, but I would love to share more about the story with you, if you're game.

I can't tell you how grateful I am for your enthusiasm over the book. Thanks for blogging about it, tweeting it, and sharing it with the book-lovers in your life. Thanks for emailing me to tell me it made you cry. (YES! ... ;) )  Thanks for pre-ordering the book, too - whether it's for yourself or your library or your kids or your BFF who loves books with ice cream covers. Seriously: to know that you'd invest your hard earned cash (Buzz's life savings!) in a book I've written is a big deal. And the fact that you're spreading the word about the book means so much to me. It means so much to every author when that happens. Thanks for being so wonderful.

Two questions:

First, what's your favorite audio book?

Second, how was your holiday?!

emily and the sea.

I was in 8th grade the Christmas my parents gave me a collection of Emily Dickinson's poems. Whoever wrapped the book taped the paper to the jacket, so I accidentally ripped the dust cover to shreds. For as long as I've had it, the book has only ever been a soft, gray spine on my shelf.

I don't think Emily would mind.

The rhyming-pattern of her poetry was probably the first thing about Emily's writing that appealed to me. I was in college when someone told me you could sing any of her poems to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas." I think I've always been smitten with that sing-song rhythm, the way her stanzas see-saw back and forth. I like the compact elegance of her work. I like the mystery. And, of course, there's a sadness in the way she writes. I like that, a lot. I think you can feel the longing in her words, long before you ever picture her as The Belle of Amherst.

Pale in the moonlight creeping through her window,
ghostly in the flutter of a white dress.

The Christmas I received the gray book, I read Emily's poems all together, all at once, as if I was reading a novel. I pressed lots of lines against my heart. "Hope is a thing with feathers..." is a line I still quote a bunch. "I dwell in possibility..." is another.

"This is my letter to the world
That never wrote to me."

And I quickly memorized what's still my favorite of all her works. If you were here, I'd recite it with a flourish (like Anne Shirley reciting "The Highwayman" ;). But that's probably not the best way to share it.

It's the kind of poem that should read as more of a whisper, I think. This is how it begins:

Glee the great storm is over! 
Four have recovered the land;

...Do you know that one?

It still makes my heart flutter. I like it because it's a full story in barely a page.
I like it because you can hear the ocean between every line.

Forty gone down together,
Into the boiling sand.

I've always imagined the scene Emily describes taking place in a seaside village. Care to indulge me for a moment? (The words in italics belong to Emily, of course.)

**
It's a dark and moonless winter night. A man pulls his jacket tighter across his chest. A woman tucks her hand into the crook of his arm as they trudge down the hill together. New fallen snow crackles under their boots; her long skirt goes damp at the hem. Soon neighbors walk alongside them, and the path is full of muffled conversation and flickering lantern-light. Children scamper on ahead, kicking paths through the darkness. Puffs of breath rise into the air. Snowflakes tumble to the ground.

They're all making their way toward the old house on the cliffs. It's strange how the orange light glowing from the windows calls to them on nights like this. How can light - pure, warm light - be louder than the restless sea crashing against the shore? The house is their refuge from the dark months, the place they go to dance away winter. To be close to one another. To remember.

When they walk through the door, the room is already filled with music, with laughter, with swirling skirts and the smells of the fruit pies baking in the kitchen. Boots scuff a familiar rhythm across the old, beamed floors. A fire snaps happily in the hearth.

From the corner of the room, an elderly lady in a long black dress sits, and watches, with barely a smile gracing her face.

"It's her eyes," whispers a curious little girl to her friend. "They're so ... strange, aren't they? Her eyes are as dark as the sea when its angry."

The old woman's hair is still thick, a long shimmer of silver and white. Her skin is pale and creased, brittle as a faded flower petal. But her wrinkles can't hide what a beauty she once was.

Eventually, the music dies away. Folks settle in, and the stories begin.

The last story of the night belongs to her, always. 

She spins a tale that's ... how old, now? Fifty years? Sixty, even?

Grief is a dark magic, she realizes. Grief never ages.

" Glee the great storm is over ," she rasps. Her eyes are distant, fixed on a point no one else could possibly understand, much less remember.

"They say she's a witch," the little girl whispers to her friend. "She has to be. Look at them all! Look at the way they all lean in to the sound of her voice..."

The girl is too young to know, of course: some people cast spells with their stories. The old woman has always been this way, even before sorrow stole her smile away. She believed in fairy tales once-upon-a-time. The only stories she tells now are dark and sad, but bewitching just the same.

Tonight, she spins the tale of the great shipwreck, and the few who survived it.


"Four have recovered the land. 
Forty gone down together into the boiling sand ..."

And we stood helpless on the shore, she tells them. We could only watch as the ship was tossed on the waves. We saw it plainly; when their screams were swallowed up in the jaws of the wind. They called them miracles ... the four who survived.

"But what about the forty?" asks the little girl. "Did they come back no more?"

The old woman shakes her head, but says nothing else. Her red lips tremble as she closes her mouth. Her gnarled hands flex into fists, gripping hopelessly at old memories.

She remembers -

The face of a man she loved?
The laugh of the friend she lost?
Dresses floating on the surface of the water?
Broken bodies washed up like shells on the sand?

Some people dream of riches hidden deep in the ocean - mermaids and sunken treasures and golden, glimmering worlds.

She has only ever dreamed of bones at the bottom of the sea.

Then a sadness suffuses the story. 
And a softness the teller's eye
And the children no further question.
And only the waves reply. 


Happy (late) Birthday, Emily Dickinson. Thank you for teaching me to love the rhythm of language.

Thank you for teaching me to listen to the sea.

Do you have a favorite poem? Or a favorite poet? I'd love to hear about yours in the comments. I'll leave mine there, too. 

* If you're up for a fun read, look up the poem Billy Collins wrote about Emily Dickinson (title redacted so I don't get heaps of spam). It's gorgeous. My favorite line is the last: "life is a loaded gun/that looks right at you with a yellow eye."

advanced reader copies. and hobbits and such.

Hello folks! Long time no see!

How've you been? Is it snowing where you live? Did you do something new to your hair? It looks adorable.

So I was trying to decide which post to share today - the one in which I geek out over my favorite Emily Dickenson poem, or the one about the museum I visited last weekend that has a miniature pig who lives in residence. (Life's been offering up lots of blog fodder lately.)

Before I write about either of those topics, I thought it might be worthwhile to do a quick post about galleys. Also known as advanced reader copies. ARCs, as the cool kids call them.

I'm not a cool kid, so I like to pronounce arcs like ORCS. In honor of my fellow citizens Middle Earth.

(On that note, do you pronounce the dragon as SMAW-g or SMOG? Or should we just call him Benedict?)

... how did I end up talking about hobbits-iz? Anyway!

I've received several emails and tweets lately asking about how to get an ARC of A Snicker of Magic. 

Two things:

First, THANK YOU! It rocks my heart so hard to know you actually want to read Snicker. Thank you, thank you, for your interest in the book. Thanks for helping me spread the word about this quirky story. I'm so grateful for the time you've taken to talk about it or blog about it or tweet about it or pre-order it. That is so, so kind.

One of the most surprising book-related things happening now is that I'm getting emails and tweets from people who already read the book and liked it (!!). That means the world to me. Thanks for taking the time to tell me you enjoyed it. Thanks for telling me who your favorite characters are! And thanks for taking such good care of the Pickles, and helping them find more hearts to call home. You deserve endless pints of Dr. Zooks. ;)

Second, I don't actually have control over who receives an ARC. If you're interested in obtaining one of those, you are most welcome to holler at the publicity department at Scholastic. (If you email me about ARCs, I just forward it along to them anyway.)

I have that info on the contact page over there ----->

Everybody I've met at Scholastic is so kind and fun and easy to chat with. I love them dearly (and I'm not just saying that because they sometimes read my blog). If, for some crazy reason, there are no ARCs left, fear not! We're barely two months away from the day Felicity Juniper Pickle laces up her wordy-sneakers and takes on the world.

(That thought both terrifies me and thrills me. I'm thrillified.)

Thirdly (... is that a word? Thirdist? Felicity would say something like, "For thirdicus!") : 

- ARCs will be available at Winter Institute in Seattle next month. (I'll be there too, if you'd like to hear my accent in real-time. My twang doesn't come with subtitles, so steady yourself.)

- And ARCs will be available at ALA in Philadelphia next month. I'll be there with my editor and we are both so darn excited! I have always wanted to attend ALA. I can't believe I really get to go! If you're there, too, I hope you'll snag a galley and say hello.

That's all the ARC-news I have, but if you have any questions, holler in the comments. I'll try to find an answer. (Or I'll just make up one.)


Next week we'll return to our regularly scheduled programming: Emily Dickinson and miniature pigs and books. Oh my. ;)

*PS: A few years ago, Holly Root wrote a great post about what an ARC actually is and how it should be used. It's a great read, if you're in a clicky mood. 

yellow monday.

"Women who make you laugh, and who make you think, and who also happen to wear yellow flowers in their hair are always dangerous..." - A Snicker of Magic 






Hey friends! Since A Snicker of Magic is only three months away (eeeeek!), I thought it might be fun to celebrate with a little quote and a piece of gorgeous art made by Alyson Kate. Alyson's design savvy has me convinced she's part-wizard, just FYI. And I'm nuts about her YouTube channel.

I'll be back soon with a post about my first NCTE experience (short summary: it was crazy-dreamy-fun). I met so many lovely teachers and librarians and booklovers. I still can't believe I got to hang out with such a sweet bunch of people for two days. On Saturday night, I hopped in a cab with the Scholastics to go see Catching Fire and My. Gosh. Have you seen it yet? How can two hours feel like ten minutes? It was intense and wonderful. I can't wait to see it again. 

My heart is still spinning, but I'm trying to steady myself enough to get some writing finished before I leave for family-time Georgia. It's pie-week!

So on that note, I hope you have a lovely holiday weekend, full of pie and people you love. And yellow flowers, of course. :) I would love to hear about your favorite Thanksgiving traditions in the comments. I have an idea for a tradition that I try to implement every year, and it never works. I'm determined to keep trying though. It involves Gibby (the farm vehicle that is liken to a turbo golf cart) and Christmas lights. You would approve, I think. 

Happy Thanksgiving!  :) 

Off to Massachusetts!

*crawls out of writing cave*

*staggers into the sunlight*

*squints* Ahoy, there! *waves to you, wildly* AHOY!

*runs at you* Do you have chocolate?!

... I'll stop with the shenanigans.

How goes it, friends? Is Fall freezing your face off?

Biscuit and I have been tucked away in The Cave of Solitude, working on something new. But I thought I'd pop in today and share some fun updates about A Snicker of Magic. Which is just a bit over three months away now.

Whoa. Banana.

So:

* If you follow this link, you can see my editor (!!!) share a sweet little intro about A Snicker of Magic during Scholastic's Spring 2014 preview. Snicker is the first book in the middle grade section. It's a weirdly wonderful thing to see Snicker hanging out beside so many beautiful books.

* Semi-related: Have I mentioned I want to raid my editor's closet? That's not exactly an update, but she's got this effortless posh-whimsy thing happening for her.

* Whereas I fear my personal style is probably more rockabilly Lisa Frank. I've been trying to decide between a horse-print dress and a heart-sweater for this weekend.

* Let's get back on track here.

* Or not. This isn't exactly an update either, but it matters BIG to me: I have been informed that someone dressed as a character from A Snicker of Magic for Halloween. *muppet arms* That's bucket list territory right there! Over Halloween, when I was buying bags of candy just for myself, I told my mom that I would flippity-jibbit if I ever saw somebody dressed as a character in one of my books. I didn't actually think it would happen for a long time, if ever. Fantasy novels and the like tend to lend themselves to more dress-up opportunities, and that's not what I write (yet). And then - wah! It happened! I am over the moon.

* By the way, it happened because galleys (ARCs) are out in the world, and so quite a few folks have read the book now. I have a whole post about the day I got the galley. I don't know why I haven't shared yet.


But it's so pretty. I can't believe it's real. I can find words (or, more accurately, make up words) for most occasions, but it's surreal when you actually see your story book-shaped. I know lots of you are writing and pursuing publication, too. This I promise you: the moment you rip open the box and see your galley is every bit as magical as people make it out to be. Don't stop imagining that moment, when you see your galley, or when you see your book on a shelf. Imagining all that can get you through some tough times, I think. And then when you actually do see it ... it blows your mind completely. It's better than you thought it would be. The best dreams always are.

* Truth: the fact that galleys are out in the world, and people are reading them, will make me twitchy if I think about it too long. So let's mosey on to the next item:

*  ... I have a few events comping up in the next few months.

Confession: I just spent an absurd amount of time figuring out how to type that last sentence. Because I don't want "I have eventz" to sound like "I am all that and a bag of Skittles, WHAT!" *hair toss*.

But I will be at in just a few fun places nervously talking about A Snicker of Magic and trying to find an excuse to show off pictures of my dog.

This weekend (Nov. 23-24), I'll be at NCTE in Boston!

I'm so darn excited (and so darn nervous!) that I sometimes start thinking about it ... and I bounce a little bit. Slowly.

Like a sleepy Popple.

Or like Sloth, when Chunk gives him the Baby Ruth.

Do you do that when you get nervous?

... not so much?

*nods* Okay.

If you're one of the wonderful English teachers attending NCTE this weekend, galleys of A Snicker of Magic will be available at the Scholastic booth. I have promised Biscuit we won't give her galley away:


Because she is very attached to it.

But we will have oodles of galleys. So if you're there, and a galley interests you, I hope you'll partake!

Galleys are different than final copies in several ways, and I knew that. You know that too, I realize. But the one thing that is in the SNICKER galley, which will not be in the final copy, is a letter from my editor.

I wasn't expecting it at all.

And if you think it made me happy-cry, you are correct.

This weekend, in addition to galleys, we'll have some adorable and snatch-worthy SNICKER surprises. Here's a clue to the cuteness:



I'll show you what they are when I get back. I saw them for the first time when I was in New York, and the squeal-factor was HIGH.

So! Galleys are at NCTE. And I'll be at NCTE for a little while, too disguising myself behind a potted plant trying to get a glimpse of Judy Blume. Most likely, I'll be the shortest girl there with the most prominent drawl. So, if you're attending NCTE, listen for my twang, and holler! And snag a Snicker galley. And a surprise ... : )

Thanks for putting up with my updates. I promise to write a post just for fun in the near future. 

Namely, I decided to browse a few local "antique" stores recently and I found a bounty of fabulous junk that I cannot wait to show you. Some antique stores really are lovely and full of fun, old surprises. Other stores ... are full of fun surprises. Not so much "lovely" ones but to each his own, etc. If there's a hard-to-buy-for-someone on your holiday shopping list, fear not. Because I know where you can get a fancy lamp made out of a 7up can.

Can you imagine the kind of genie that would come popping up out of that thing? Exactly.

I'll have them put it on hold for you, don't worry.

PS - since the November 25th means we're only three months away from my book's birthday, I'm going  to share something very sweet and lovely. I think you'll dig it. ( Allyson Kate made it. That's how pretty it is.) So scuttle back, k?



I would love to hear how you're doing down in the comments! And I would love to hear what you think I should read on the airplane. (Are you listening to holiday music yet? Or is it still a bit too early for that?)

*waves to you as you sail away*

*hoards chocolate*

*staggers back to cave*

trixie-treatsy.

Friends, it is the day before one of my favorite days of the year. Tomorrow is the day whole BAGS of candy will go on sale for half-price, simply because they have Frankensteins and Pumpkins on the wrappers. WIN. Tonight, however, is Halloween and it's a fun night, too.

Fun for leaves!


Fun for jack-o-lanterns!

Fun for treats!

Sadly, Biscuit and I will not be lobbing candy at trick-or-treaters tonight. This neighborhood gets packed with trixie-treatsy types, so she'll already be barking and squealing like crazy. Too many people coming to the door would make her frantic.

I do think Biscuit would look adorable in a costume though. Like in a little superman cape or something!! But every time I suggest this to her, I get this look:


So I guess it's not happening.

How is that even comfortable?

I told her we could also dress up as a duo one year. Dorothy and Toto seems a bit obvious, but maybe we could be, like, Sherlock and Watson. Or Lucy and Aslan. Or Khaleesi and her dragon?!


She's still not into it. So.

One year, my friend Tony and I dressed as Harry and Hermione. It was a last minute costume. This was obvious, apparently, since the first person we saw asked if we were supposed to be Olive Garden waiters.

In fact, we were supposed to go as Sonny and Cher. I was going to be Sonny, but the Sonny Bono wig I received in the mail was a disaster. It was shoulder-length and fluffy. And then my brother, who cannot follow essential costume instructions, purchased a salt-and-pepper-colored mustache instead of a black one for me to stick upon my face. So I looked like a very short, very creepy, old hippy. Which was funny, admittedly. But Sonny and Cher just wasn't happening. Thus, I found myself using eyeliner to draw a lightning-bolt scar on Tony's forehead about five minutes before we partied. That's the last time I dressed up for Halloween.

But I am wearing a sweater today that counts a little bit, I think. It reminds me of Winnifred's book in Hocus Pocus:


Halloween night will be chill for me. My mind is all wound up in something new, and so I'm trying not to even talk to many people. For their sakes. When I'm in the early drafty phase of a project, I make no sense to anybody. I don't even make sense to myself. I just get all mumbly-crazy-wacky. And then my brain is so full of plots and words and characters that I just get ... quiet. Sometimes frustrated. Sometimes excited.

It's so fun diving into a new story though. And gosh I love writing in the fall.

There's something about the whistling wind
and the fluttery leaves
and the way dark clouds creep and curl across the silver skies
... it's bewitching.

And if I happened to be writing something a bit ... ghostly ...
- I'm not saying that I am, of course, but if I were - ...


... this would be a lovely day to do it. ;)

Question: What's your favorite costume that you've ever donned for Halloween shenanigans? Or the costume you wish you'd worn? Are you partying tonight, or chilling out with your dog and a bag of candy and watching The Great Pumpkin?

Also: If you're in the mood for a spooky-lovely read, this book is so wonderful that I tried to walk and read at the same time, which nearly resulted in a sprained ankle, which would have SO been worth it.

Happy Halloween, you beautiful monsters!