Elise Allen's Blog, page 21

The Write Time of Day

In college, I stayed up all night, most nights.  I did some of my best work in the middle of the night.  Granted, I also did some of my best procrastination.  Whole nights went by in seas of Tetris, Minesweeper, and Risk.

I still do a lot of my best work in the middle of the night.  With everyone else in the house asleep, I can't procrastinate by doing laundry or the dishes (not that those are normally strong pulls, but it happens), I can't watch TV (though I might manage to keep the volume low for Glee or Survivor), and I can't hang out with Miss M or my husband.  I brew a pot of coffee, make a snack, pop on my noise-canceling headphones, start up Pandora, and settle in for a gloriously peaceful long night of productivity.

There's just one problem these days.  I get tired.

It's really been a problem for the last ten years.  I expect myself to have the stamina of my college days, and I just don't.  It's strange, in a way, because I'm actually in better shape than I was back then, but I'm also doing more, which is tiring.

And yeah, there's that nagging thing about being many years older than I was in college.

Still, when it's a good night — a night the computer screen doesn't turn into swirling hypnotic colors and I can actually stay awake and focused — there's nothing better than cranking well into the wee hours.  If I'm inspired and on just the right caffeine buzz, I can make it to four in the morning and have great writing to show for it.

Yet since I can only handle that every so often, I've gotten much better at getting myself into that perfect-worknight zone in whatever patch of time I can find, whether it's the fifteen minutes between packing Miss M's lunch and waking her up for school, or the hour I'm snagging right now between working out and picking her back up from school.

Do you have a favorite time of day to work?  Has it always been the same, or has it changed over time?  Are you able to crank as well during other times of the day, or do circumstances need to be a very specific way for you to feel like you're doing your best?

By the way, about that workout — I'm basically doing the last month of the "Four Months to a Four Hour Marathon" book to prepare for the L.A. Marathon (which I in no way plan to finish in four hours).  I'm kind of pretending I did the first three months.  Today was supposed to be an 8-mile speed workout.  I made it 6.5, then did the last 1.5 as a cooldown on the elliptical.  Not ideal, but not bad.

Tired But Happy

So I've been doing a lot of postings about marathons, including my constant pain in the butt, my slow-but-steady triumph at the Disneyland Half Marathon, my hopes for running the L.A. Marathon, and my failures to get in a single long training run.

But today… SUCCESS!!!!

The L.A. Marathon is March 20th.  My last full marathon was the 2010 Walt Disney World Marathon, and I haven't run more than ten miles since the Disneyland Half in September.  If I didn't get in a really long run this long weekend, at least fifteen miles, I knew there was no way I'd make it.

My running partner Michelle and I decided Monday was the day.  We'd meet at 7am in our usual spot, and we'd go.

The morning started out perfectly.  It was freezing here ("freezing" by L.A. standards), but I bundled up like crazy so I wouldn't start weeping the minute I opened the door (I'm a wimp when it comes to cold).  I ate my Balance Bar on the drive from the San Fernando Valley to Marina del Ray, stopped at Ralph's for the Official Pre-Run Potty Break, and pulled into the parking lot where Michelle and I always meet… when we manage to get our crap together and actually meet… which, as I've said, has been almost never lately.

The run started out beautifully.  We went the Galloway route.  Jeff Galloway is a former Olympic marathoner who teaches runners to do the 26.2 with a run/walk ratio.  The idea behind it is that you use slightly different muscles for running and walking, and by switching it up you keep your running muscles fresher.  Your run portions are therefore faster, and you finish faster and in less pain than if you'd run the whole way.  I've found this to be true — while my fastest marathon was without walk breaks, my second fastest incorporated them… and was only two minutes slower.

What's spectacular about Michelle and I is that we both love running not because we're natural gazelles (all things considered, we'd be happier kicking back with sushi, wine, and chocolate), but because we love the way we feel after we run, and we love the opportunity to spend hours chatting while pounding the pavement.  For two hours we ran and dished about every little thing in our lives, then she turned around to head back to the cars and I continued onward.

I ran all the way up the Santa Monica bike path, just beyond Will Rogers Beach (for those who know L.A.).  The day was glorious: sunny and clear, with the ocean at my side, the mountains in the distance, and lots of dogs zipping around to keep me happy and preoccupied.  At the northernmost end of my route, the path was very close to the water, and I actually saw dolphins leaping out of the waves.

This is one of the many reasons I love living in Los Angeles.

From there, I turned around and started home, taking a detour up the insanely steep California Incline so I could dart into Panera for a proper pit stop, and a water bottle refill.  In theory, the stop was a great idea.  In practice, every muscle in my legs seized horribly once I stopped moving.  But the beauty of being by myself was I had no choice — if I wanted to get back to my car, I had to keep going; if I wanted to get back to my car any time soon, I had to run.

So I kept running.

My legs were screaming, but luckily there were endless things to distract me.  By this time, Venice Beach was its usual fantastic freak scene: drum circles, pipe shops, tattoo artists, sand sculptors, a psychic cat… plus there was some kind of pro-medical marijuana rally.  I saw a wide-eyed backpacker who had clearly just emerged from his hostel, and it struck me all over again that people travel here from all over the world just to check it out, and I get to toddle down every week and run.  I felt euphoric… though that might have been the endorphins… or the medical marijuana in the air.

I made it through Venice and back into Marina del Rey, where I suddenly realized my legs were no longer listening to my brain.  They had started to stage a coup, and threatened to spill me flat on my face unless I stopped running that instant.  I checked my wrist-Garmin and saw I'd gone 17.25 miles.  I negotiated a deal with my legs: if they'd let me make it to 18 miles, I'd stop running and make the rest of the route an extended cool-down walk.

My legs agreed, and at exactly eighteen miles I slowed to a walk.  The pain in my legs was almost unbearable… but the euphoria didn't go away.

A mile and a half later I made it to my car.  The pain by now was so intense that I wondered if I could really handle 26.2 miles in just a month's time.  But after I stretched, I felt great.  A month?  That's a world of time!  That's enough time for a recovery week, an even longer run, then a taper before the actual race.

Done deal.

For the rest of the day, I felt exhausted but unstoppable.

I've talked about this before, but there's something beautifully tangible and satisfying about a long run or marathon.  It's a concrete accomplishment you can point to and say I ACHIEVED THIS!  That's harder in other parts of life, especially writing.  Writing for a TV show is great… but is it your own show?  Selling your own show is great… but does it actually get on the air?  Getting on the air is great… but does it do well in the ratings?  In the book world, hitting the NYT Bestseller List is HUGE… but where is your book on the list?  And how many weeks will it stay there?

Those questions are normal, and they help push us forward to achieve more and more.  But when I wake up in the morning and run eighteen miles, that's something I know is an accomplishment.  Whatever else comes at me, I did that.  I pushed myself beyond what I thought I could handle, and I made it.  That's concrete, and I can own it without question.

Speaking of questions, here's one for you: what do you do to give you that concrete sense of satisfaction?  Do you get it from your work?  Your artistic passions (which could also be your work)?  Or from something like running — a thing you do outside your "real life" activities, and is therefore free of expectations?

Fine Line Between Wise Woman and Pathetic Loser

So I posted last week that over the weekend I'd be going for a long run, ideally 15 miles. Sunday was the day of choice.

So what happened Saturday afternoon? I was nailed by a fierce migraine that knocked me completely out of commission for the next 24 hours.

No 15 mile run.

While I recognize that had I actually forced myself to run through the blinding pain, there's every chance I'd have passed out in the middle of Venice Beach (which would have garnered absolutely no attention, given the location). Still, I felt like the biggest wuss in the world for "copping out" of the long run.

My sister the R.N. says I made the right choice. That makes me feel a little better. However, it's now one month before the L.A. Marathon, and I have yet to run longer than ten miles. But I'm saying it right here in print: I will run the race (even if it's more of a walk-shuffle-hobble), and doggone it, nothing will stop me!!!!

Except possibly another migraine.

Or really heavy rain.  So not feeling the really heavy rain thing.

But neither of those will happen!

Help me out — give me some of your best laid plans that didn't quite work out the way you wanted.  Did you push through anyway?  Did you alter your goal slightly?  Did you get frustrated with yourself when things started going off the tracks, or did you simply adjust, zen-like, and keep moving forward?

Monday.  That's when I'll do my super-long marathon prep run.  It's going to rain Saturday and Sunday… so Monday.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Today's Blurb is Brought to You by the Letter Q!

There are many, many reasons why Matthew Quick is among the coolest people in the world.

1) Like myself, he is a rabid Philadelphia Eagles fan.

2) He is such a rabid Philadelphia Eagles fan that his debut novel, The Silver Linings Playbook, is set against the Birds' 2006 season, which the book follows faithfully.

3) His second book, the YA Sorta Like a Rock Star, is pretty much an acclaim magnet.  It was named one of YALSA's 2011 Best Fiction for Young Adults, was nominated for a 2010 CYBILS award, and received a starred review from the School Library Journal, among other honors.  It also has a super-cool book trailer.

4) Sorta Like a Rock Star itself is sorta like a rock star, because it's featured in an ALA poster, along with the stars of Glee.  The book in Mercedes' hand?  Uh-huh.  That's Sorta Like a Rock Star.

5) He's married to the incredibly talented Alicia Bessette, whose debut novel Simply From Scratch is delicious in every way.

6) He and Alicia have a passion for making the world a better place, as evinced by their beautiful blog, Quest for Kindness.

7) And among a million other reasons why Q rocks my world is this: the KICK ASS blurb he wrote for Populazzi!

Here it is:

"Hilarious, psychologically chewy, downright Machiavellian, and heartfelt in all the most satisfying ways. POPULAZZI had me blazing through pages. Elise Allen rocks!"

—Matthew Quick, author of SORTA LIKE A ROCK STAR and THE SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK

How cool is that?????

Seriously, I'm losing my mind I'm so excited.  And when I get this excited, I have to do something about it, and that usually means a book giveaway.

So here it is — leave a comment on this post between now and the end of the day Monday to enter.  Then, my good friend random.org will pick a winner who will get their choice of one of Matthew Quick's books.  Let me know in your comment which you want, Sorta Like a Rock Star or The Silver Linings Playbook, and if you win I'll send it out to you.

Good luck!

The Pot'o'Gold at Rainbow's End

It might be a whole month before St. Patty's Day, but I've found a Pot'o'Gold!!!!

I get a little kooky about bargains.  Love them like crazy.  I buy almost nothing unless it's on sale.  I don't have the supermarket coupon thing down, but I buy clothes, housewares, even computer accessories on sale.  When I get a great price, I feel a sense of accomplishment completely out of proportion to what I actually achieved.  I even appreciate the product I bought all the more because it was such a great deal.

That's why I'm sharing my all-time favorite web link.

Have you heard of Retail Me Not?  This site is unbelievable.  They have discount codes for every store under the sun.  I'm on one of my many random food kicks right now, and this one involves protein shakes.  I searched high and low, and found a random website with the best price on the protein shakes.  Expecting nothing, I typed the name of the site into Retail Me Not's search engine.  Sure enough, they had discount codes.

I just bought some furniture for my daughter's room and saved twenty percent with a Retail Me Not coupon code.  I've saved money on web hosting, clothing, gifts… everything.  I highly recommend checking it out before pulling the trigger on pretty much any online purchase.

There's actually another site I love: Living Social.  They send emails with one AMAZING deal a day.  I jumped at one that offered a 90 minute horseback riding session for $40.  I grabbed one for myself and one for my daughter, and this one worked out perfectly for everyone.  Not only did I enjoy a great deal, but the stables got a continuing customer — I signed my daughter up for lessons after that first outing.

I'm not affiliated with either of these sites in any way.  I get no kickbacks for promoting them.  I'm just sharing 'cause I think they're insano-cool.  I'm sure there are other great savings sites out there I don't know anything about.  Do you have favorites?  I'd love to add them to my list!

Just Because You Can…

So on Sunday I was in my weekend working habitat, Panera Bread.  (The freak in the corner? Me.)  All was well, I was getting a lot of writing done, and then I popped into the bathroom (making sure to grab a raisin bread sample on my way — calorie-free when it's a sample).

Both stalls were full, with riotous laughter coming from one of them.  My mind reeled with all the zany hijinks that could occur when one is alone in a bathroom stall, but soon the laughter was followed by a string of giddy conversation, then more wild laughter.

I had to know.  I peeked through the space.

No, I didn't actually press my face to the slit between swinging door and dividing wall, but you know how it is.  It's an unwritten rule that we're all too polite to do it, but it's really not hard to see what's going on inside one of the stalls.  We usually do it when we're not positive if someone's really inside… or in this case, if we simply must know if someone is really chatting on their cell phone while taking a dump.

Someone was.

Believe me, I didn't let my eyes linger — I just looked long enough to confirm that indeed, the woman was copping a squat while holding a shiny red cell phone to her ear, chatting and laughing as if she were in a coffee shop.  Which, okay, she was, technically, but no matter how many meetings I've had at Panera, never once have I chosen to move the venue to the Ladies' Room, especially when I knew I'd be having a… shall we say… sound-effect heavy experience.

Which this woman was.

From the eye rolling and stares of the women ahead of me in line, I could tell the Potty-Talker had been at it for a very long time.  And from the tone of the conversation that echoed off the walls of the bathroom, she had clearly settled in for the long haul.

Really?  Really?

I mean, I know communication is so portable that we can talk from anywhere, but does that really mean we should?  Wouldn't this woman's conversational partner have been happier holding off on the conversation until after her intestinal distress was over?  Did her bowels really need to weigh in on every amusing anecdote to bring each story to life?

Really, I'm not a prude.  There's even one instance in which I'll bring the phone into the bathroom with me.  I did it once with my sister, and now it's a running joke between us.  But even then, it's not something I'd do in a public restroom!  I'm going to go out on a limb and say the only time it's acceptable to have a conversation while on any form of communal toilet is if you're at Club 33 in Disneyland, and need to share the thrill of that particularly impressive throne.  Otherwise, do your business and get out, then make your call.  Is that really so much to ask?

Here's my question for you — what behaviors have you seen in public that struck you as completely inappropriate?  Soooo looking forward to your answers on this one.

Hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day!

xo,

E

Fitness Fetish!!!

I looooove fitness stories.  Diet plans, exercise regiments, training programs… they totally rope me in.  All the time.  The Success Stories in Shape and Fitness magazine, The Biggest Loser… I just saw a promo for one on MTV called I Used to be Fat… I eat this stuff up.  And it's not just the fat-to-fit — give me a story about people digging deep to train for a marathon, a century bike ride, a climb up Mount Everest… I go nuts for it, and there are two main reasons.

One — they're about change.  There's something glorious about watching a story in which someone makes a profound change.  Change is constant and exhilarating in our lives, but even the most drastic sea changes usually happen internally.  With fitness stories the change happens right before our eyes, which adds to the thrill.

The second thing I love is the perseverance angle.  On all our journeys — whether it's writing a novel, raising a child, moving to a new city — we have terrible difficulties and moments when we think we can't take it.  When we push through, we achieve incredible things… but again, in real life these can be hard to pinpoint.  In fitness stories, the result of perseverance is tangible.  If I push through and run a marathon, no matter how slow, I get a medal (and the ones I'm holding up in the picture are only half my collection).  If I go to boot camp regularly, I can hit the deck and pump out pushups.  It's a clear success.

I'm right now "training" for the L.A. Marathon.  I put the word in quotes because I've been very lax about my running, and this will doubtless be my slowest marathon ever.  To me that doesn't matter.  What matters is that I take that 26.2 mile journey and finish it.  I'm no hardbody, and I'm no gazelle, but every time I accomplish something physical like a marathon, it helps me push through those more difficult, interior struggles, like wrestling with my own insecurities about whether what I'm writing is any good, or if anyone will like it.

So here's what I'd love to know from you: are there things you do physically that help you mentally?  Do you tackle insane hikes to clear your mind?  Do you ride centuries on your bike?  Do you hold tree pose in a wildly overheated room until all the extraneous chatter leaves your head?  And when you do these things on a fairly regular basis, what effect do they have on your overall mental life?  What effect do they have on your writing, parenting, relationships, and all your other passions?

Can't wait to hear your thoughts — I hope they'll power me through my long run Sunday.  I'm planning to do fifteen very slow miles.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Oh — don't forget — today is the last day to enter my contest to win one of Eileen Cook's fantastic books!

I'll be back Monday at the Debutante Ball.  Have a great weekend!

In Praise of the Crit Group

Two nights ago I met with a crit group for the first time in several years.  We used to meet regularly, but the group swelled — with wonderful people I really really like — yet with so many people, it became difficult to settle in, especially since all of us were women, many were moms, and one was a sex columnist.

There was a lot of chatter about kindergarten and sex.

I'm not against chatter, but with a bakers' dozen writers worth of chatter, there wasn't a lot of time for concentrated work.  It was also impossible to reconcile everyone's schedules, so it was hit or miss who came each month.  Personally, I know I missed an average of every other meeting.  With everything so sporadic, there was no ongoing spur to take notes, run with them, then come back for more.  So while the group was fun and at times effective, it wasn't the intense workshop I'd kind of hoped it would be, and we eventually stopped meeting.

Then a couple weeks ago I made a few calls, and got the three (including myself) original members of the band back together.  We met over drinks at a restaurant (okay, I had hot tea because I swore I was going running afterward.  Did I go running afterward?  Of course I didn't go running afterward.), and after the requisite catching up, totally dug in.

It was spectacular.  What I brought to the table was a new novel in its very early stages.  I'd started it, gotten sidetracked with other projects, and was now ready to dive back in… but I wanted other eyes on it first.  Their feedback was great — they were very specific about the elements they loved and the ones that weren't so terribly exciting, and I came away completely inspired to get back to it and delve deeper.  We're meeting again in one month, on a date that works for all of us, and despite all the other things on my plate, I know I'll take the time to work on the new novel, so I can share its next step.

What makes a great crit group?  Size, I now know, is key.  Too big and it stops being useful.  Mine is particularly small, which I love, but it doesn't have to be that tiny.

An even bigger must is that you trust and respect everyone in the group.  You'll be reading a lot of your crit group members' writing, so if you don't generally like their writing, you'll have a miserable time.  Of my two fellow group members, one is someone with whom I've worked a million times on television shows, so I know and love her work.  The other I didn't know until the group first started, but the minute I read something of hers I was completely hooked.

Beyond respecting their writing, you also have to respect your group members' critical perspective.  My two co-horts give great notes — the head-slapping "of course that's how it should work!" kind of notes that click on all the lights in my brain.

How do you feel about crit groups?  Do you have one you meet regularly?  Or instead of scheduled meetings, do you prefer a trusted group of "beta readers" you only approach at certain times in the writing process?  Are your early readers other writers, or is there someone else you always turn to for a key opinion — a spouse, maybe.

Let me know — I'd love to hear what works best for you!

The Pocket Call

So I was in the middle of writing a totally different post when my cell phone rang.

My cell phone never rings first thing in the morning.  I saw it was from a friend I'd seen recently.  I knew she was going through some stuff, so when I heard nothing but a little bit of static (I get horrible cell reception in the house) and some gasps of breath, I thought she might be crying.

"Harriet?" I asked (except, you know, I used her real name).  "Harriet?  Is everything okay?" More gasps.  More static. "Harriet?" This went on for another several seconds, and I realized there could be another reason behind her silence.  Sure, she could be in emotional agony… or she could have no idea whatsoever that she called me.

Still, if she was upset, it would be awfully insensitive to say, "Hey… is this a pocket call?"  So I went with hostage-situation gravitas.

"Okay, Harriet?  Don't freak out.  I'm going to hang up because my cell gets bad reception in the house, but I'm going to call you right back from my land line.  Got that?  Right back."

I hung up and called her back, and of course it had been a pocket call.  The gasps of breath had been her sipping her morning coffee.

This was actually the second pocket call I'd received that week.  Just a couple days prior, one of my bosses (when you're freelance, you have lots of bosses), had pocket called and left a fabulously long message as she chatted with some guy while driving from San Diego to Los Angeles.  Sadly, it was muted by the whirr of the engine and I couldn't make out anything juicy.

My husband has pocket called me on occasion, which could have been the beginnings of a Marian Keyes novel, but he was just talking about reality TV.  (This also could have been the beginning of a Marian Keyes novel, had I misunderstood and assumed he was talking about himself and not the cast of Jersey Shore, but alas, I'm not that imaginative in real life.)

My favorite pocket call story is my friend who accidentally called his BFF while driving alone in his car.  Five minutes of him singing along to Duran Duran, loudly and off key, still lives on her answering machine.

As far as I know, I've left no incriminating pocket calls in my wake.  Have you?  If so, what happened?  Did your life suddenly become a chick-lit novel?  Is embarrassing evidence forever preserved on digital voice mail?  Can't wait to hear!

Gotta run… phone's ringing…

Loving Eileen Cook

Super, super, SUPER cool news!

I just got a frickin' awesome review — technically a "blurb" — from an author I crazy-adore and admire.

The author in question is the sharp-witted, gloriously clever-voiced Eileen Cook, penner of YA novels What Would Emma Do?, Getting Revenge on Lauren Wood, and her latest, The Education of Hailey Kendrick.

I love Eileen's writing, and getting to know her personally has been one of the many joys of blogging at The Debutante Ball.  Eileen is a former Deb, and from the time our Class of 2011 began, she was incredibly gracious with her time and advice.  And check out her author pic:

She's a dog person!  What's not to love?

Still, I was very nervous asking her to read Populazzi.  I have so much respect for her work, had she not liked the book, it's likely I'd have entered the kind of depression only mass quantities of dark chocolate can solve.

But guess what?  SHE LOVED IT!!!!

Wait — I don't want to put words in her mouth.  Here's what she said:

Populazzi is a fresh, fun peek behind the popularity curtain. If you ever wanted to fit in, wondered how to climb the popularity ladder, or needed how to figure out which guy was the best for you- then you'll love this book. Elise Allen is a welcome new voice in YA fiction and Populazzi is destined to climb the best seller lists.

- Eileen Cook, Author of The Education of Hailey Kendrick

I'm seriously on cloud nine right now, and I had to share with everyone.

So you know what?  This calls for a giveaway.  Anyone who comments on this post between now and Friday (2/11) is entered for a chance to win one of Eileen's books.  You choose the book: Unpredictable (that one's not YA — it's "chick lit," and it's absolutely hysterical — I loved it), What Would Emma Do?, Getting Revenge on Lauren Wood, or, The Education of Hailey Kendrick.  You tell me which one you want in the comment (click here for more info on each book), and if you win, that's the one I'll send you.

Happy reading!