Maggie Stiefvater's Blog: Maggie Stiefvater, page 386
February 26, 2012
Valuable, Content Filled Posts: i.e., my cat playing fetch
I tell people all the time that my cat plays fetch, but they don't believe me. Not in a meaningful way.
Sometimes it feels like it takes YouTube to end any discussion these days.
Sometimes it feels like it takes YouTube to end any discussion these days.
February 21, 2012
Foreign Cover Round Up
It's been awhile since I posted foreign covers, and as I find them intriguing, I figured I'd share the ones I'd gotten since my last wrap up.
In other news, I have a Lego Dobby on my desk and for some reason, he's always missing his head when I first sit down in my office. I'm not sure who the culprit is (knowing Dobby, maybe he's doing it to himself). Regardless, it's extremely distracting.
French and Russian editions of The Scorpio Races.
Indonesian editions of Lament & Ballad, Polish edition of Ballad, new German editions of Lament & Ballad
Japanese edition of Lament, Russian and Danish editions of Forever
New UK Mass-market (super market) editions of Shiver, Linger, Forever
Czech, Dutch, Finnish, Lithuanian, and Swedish editions of Forever
Favorites? Ones you hate? Ones you wish we had in the U.S.?
In other news, I have a Lego Dobby on my desk and for some reason, he's always missing his head when I first sit down in my office. I'm not sure who the culprit is (knowing Dobby, maybe he's doing it to himself). Regardless, it's extremely distracting.
French and Russian editions of The Scorpio Races.
Indonesian editions of Lament & Ballad, Polish edition of Ballad, new German editions of Lament & Ballad
Japanese edition of Lament, Russian and Danish editions of Forever
New UK Mass-market (super market) editions of Shiver, Linger, Forever
Czech, Dutch, Finnish, Lithuanian, and Swedish editions of Forever
Favorites? Ones you hate? Ones you wish we had in the U.S.?
February 19, 2012
I Was Going to Answer Reader Questions
. . . but because of the high prevalence of norovirus in our house (if you don't know what that is, I highly suggest NOT googling), I lost interest in operating my brain and I will instead share a photograph Lover took yesterday.
Two of our three dogs, Ginger (Banded Mountain Terrier) and Cooper (Swiss Mountain Dog). Ginger is demonstrating a canine's ability to use problem-solving and tools. In this case, she's decided to use Cooper as a dog bed.
I reckon Cooper is allowing her to do this because when he gets bored, he pulls her around by the tie out until she agrees to play with him. They have hard, hard lives.
I will be more coherent next week. And maybe even tackle reader questions.
Two of our three dogs, Ginger (Banded Mountain Terrier) and Cooper (Swiss Mountain Dog). Ginger is demonstrating a canine's ability to use problem-solving and tools. In this case, she's decided to use Cooper as a dog bed.
I reckon Cooper is allowing her to do this because when he gets bored, he pulls her around by the tie out until she agrees to play with him. They have hard, hard lives.
I will be more coherent next week. And maybe even tackle reader questions.
February 15, 2012
If You Give a Cow A . . .
I'm not sure how much time you've spent with cows, but they're pretty friendly.
Not the brightest bulbs out there, but still, more willing to give you the time of day than say, a squirrel or a [redacted].* It turns out that I will be seeing a lot more of cows than before, because our new house has several hundred feet of quality cow frontage. In fact, the cows closest to our house are not just cows, but super-friendly 4H cows with large and liquid eyes, grubby halters trailing leads, and bewildered but pleasant expressions.
*joke redacted here because it is Wednesday and I have already gotten more hate mail than I want to deal with.
Anyway, after closing on our First!Ever!House! on Friday (that sounds an awful lot like grown-up business, by the way, that verb -- "closing." It's like the phrase "mutual fund." Whenever I hear myself say one or the other, I check the mirror for signs of gray hair or the gleaming reflection of a staid silver Mercedes sedan)(just like Edward Cullen!),** I journeyed out to the Future House of Stiefvater with Lover to prance around and celebrate the largest and most brick thing we'd ever bought. After the obligatory standing in the halls and testing the echo-power of a house with no rugs or window treatments or furniture, we all trailed outside to look at the cows.
**Who am I kidding? I'm going to get hate mail anyway. First from people with gray hair, and then from a Cullen. Possibly also from Mercedes.
With uncertain but inevitable amiability, the cows — more like calves, these were definitely YA cows — wandered up to the fence. On previous occasions seeing The Future House of Stiefvater, we had coaxed them into being scratched. Things 1 and 2 had also allowed themselves to be licked. I don't know if you've seen a cow tongue, but I would like you to appreciate the intestinal fortitude of my children. I always felt a little bad that I had nothing to offer to YA calves in return, however. If they'd been dogs, I would've given them a biscuit. But they were cows. We had no biscuits, and anyway, what do you give as a treat to an animal that has four stomachs (well, four chambers in their stomachs, if you want to be technical)? I scrounged around in our vehicle and found a bag containing eight sweet potato chips.
I became filled with a burning desire to find out what happened when you combined cows and sweet potato chips.***
***Add an angry email from PETA and the American Angus Association to the ones already mentioned in this post.
I proffered the first chip. YA Calf #1 was very pleased with the offering, and despite the fact that YA Calf #1, like all cows, had no teeth on top, the chip seemed to go down just fine.****
****Yes, that's right. I was told this fact about toothlessness by the previous homeowner, and a bit of Googling bore this out. It's hard to imagine, though. Can you imagine us without teeth on top?*****
*****I am seriously regretting photo-shopping that photo of Julia Roberts to include a toothless upper maw, because I will now be having nightmares about that for a week.
This made YA Calf #2 eager to have a taste, but YA Calves #1 and #3 were in his way. What was a curious cow to do? Extend its blue tongue fourteen feet over the heads of the others, of course.
Okay, it wasn't really fourteen feet. But it was about twelve inches. And blue. And sticky. The tongue merely touched the chip and then withdrew back into the mouth, like a frog catching flies. Delighted both by the cow's evident enjoyment and the realization I still had my hand, I fed two more of the chips to YA Calves #3 and #4, respectively. I was certain that we'd become firm friends and that later, when cows had taken over the earth, they would remember me and spare both my family and my Camaro. It was a realization I pondered again and again after returning to the weekend rental cabin to play approximately 17 games of pool. I considered the day a rousing success.
Later, Lover fed YA Calf #1 the remaining four chips, which made YA Calf #1 emit one dry cough. So, basically you can send any angry e-mails about inappropriate cow feeding to him, not me. I have since googled and found that the following make good cow treats:
-apples
-oranges
-bread
-SWEET POTATOES
Admittedly, maybe not fried. But just in case you are planning on going forth and befriending any of our future bovine overlords (I might be channeling Gary Larson here), you're now equipped with 100% more knowledge than I had when I started out.
Not the brightest bulbs out there, but still, more willing to give you the time of day than say, a squirrel or a [redacted].* It turns out that I will be seeing a lot more of cows than before, because our new house has several hundred feet of quality cow frontage. In fact, the cows closest to our house are not just cows, but super-friendly 4H cows with large and liquid eyes, grubby halters trailing leads, and bewildered but pleasant expressions.
*joke redacted here because it is Wednesday and I have already gotten more hate mail than I want to deal with.
Anyway, after closing on our First!Ever!House! on Friday (that sounds an awful lot like grown-up business, by the way, that verb -- "closing." It's like the phrase "mutual fund." Whenever I hear myself say one or the other, I check the mirror for signs of gray hair or the gleaming reflection of a staid silver Mercedes sedan)(just like Edward Cullen!),** I journeyed out to the Future House of Stiefvater with Lover to prance around and celebrate the largest and most brick thing we'd ever bought. After the obligatory standing in the halls and testing the echo-power of a house with no rugs or window treatments or furniture, we all trailed outside to look at the cows.
**Who am I kidding? I'm going to get hate mail anyway. First from people with gray hair, and then from a Cullen. Possibly also from Mercedes.
With uncertain but inevitable amiability, the cows — more like calves, these were definitely YA cows — wandered up to the fence. On previous occasions seeing The Future House of Stiefvater, we had coaxed them into being scratched. Things 1 and 2 had also allowed themselves to be licked. I don't know if you've seen a cow tongue, but I would like you to appreciate the intestinal fortitude of my children. I always felt a little bad that I had nothing to offer to YA calves in return, however. If they'd been dogs, I would've given them a biscuit. But they were cows. We had no biscuits, and anyway, what do you give as a treat to an animal that has four stomachs (well, four chambers in their stomachs, if you want to be technical)? I scrounged around in our vehicle and found a bag containing eight sweet potato chips.
I became filled with a burning desire to find out what happened when you combined cows and sweet potato chips.***
***Add an angry email from PETA and the American Angus Association to the ones already mentioned in this post.
I proffered the first chip. YA Calf #1 was very pleased with the offering, and despite the fact that YA Calf #1, like all cows, had no teeth on top, the chip seemed to go down just fine.****
****Yes, that's right. I was told this fact about toothlessness by the previous homeowner, and a bit of Googling bore this out. It's hard to imagine, though. Can you imagine us without teeth on top?*****
*****I am seriously regretting photo-shopping that photo of Julia Roberts to include a toothless upper maw, because I will now be having nightmares about that for a week.
This made YA Calf #2 eager to have a taste, but YA Calves #1 and #3 were in his way. What was a curious cow to do? Extend its blue tongue fourteen feet over the heads of the others, of course.
Okay, it wasn't really fourteen feet. But it was about twelve inches. And blue. And sticky. The tongue merely touched the chip and then withdrew back into the mouth, like a frog catching flies. Delighted both by the cow's evident enjoyment and the realization I still had my hand, I fed two more of the chips to YA Calves #3 and #4, respectively. I was certain that we'd become firm friends and that later, when cows had taken over the earth, they would remember me and spare both my family and my Camaro. It was a realization I pondered again and again after returning to the weekend rental cabin to play approximately 17 games of pool. I considered the day a rousing success.
Later, Lover fed YA Calf #1 the remaining four chips, which made YA Calf #1 emit one dry cough. So, basically you can send any angry e-mails about inappropriate cow feeding to him, not me. I have since googled and found that the following make good cow treats:
-apples
-oranges
-bread
-SWEET POTATOES
Admittedly, maybe not fried. But just in case you are planning on going forth and befriending any of our future bovine overlords (I might be channeling Gary Larson here), you're now equipped with 100% more knowledge than I had when I started out.
February 9, 2012
More Info About The Raven Boys
Ah! Behold -- Amazon has updated their page for THE RAVEN BOYS, and it has a longer description. That means I'm safe to share it here, too
“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.”
It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive.
Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her.
His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.
But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little.
For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.
From Maggie Stiefvater, the bestselling and acclaimed author of the Shiver trilogy and The Scorpio Races, comes a spellbinding new series where the inevitability of death and the nature of love lead us to a place we’ve never been before.
(and for those just seeing this for the first time, it comes out September 18 of this year, is the first in a four-book series, and as always, can be pre-ordered from any bookstore, online or not. But also also like always, you can pre-ordered a signed and doodled in copy by pre-ordering from Fountain Bookstore).
Interestingly enough, every time I think about the book being released, I get a little squeeze of nerves in my stomach. Ha! look! there it went again.
“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.”It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive.
Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her.
His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.
But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little.
For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.
From Maggie Stiefvater, the bestselling and acclaimed author of the Shiver trilogy and The Scorpio Races, comes a spellbinding new series where the inevitability of death and the nature of love lead us to a place we’ve never been before.
(and for those just seeing this for the first time, it comes out September 18 of this year, is the first in a four-book series, and as always, can be pre-ordered from any bookstore, online or not. But also also like always, you can pre-ordered a signed and doodled in copy by pre-ordering from Fountain Bookstore).
Interestingly enough, every time I think about the book being released, I get a little squeeze of nerves in my stomach. Ha! look! there it went again.
February 3, 2012
GO Somewhere and DO Something
I am generally a productive person. I have vices, but they generally are vices that make me work more, not less, which is convenient when you are in the writerly line of work. I have even honed a fine system of reward and punishment which grants me time to procrastinate on an earned basis, which probably makes it more properly "free time" than "procrastination." Oh yes, I am a productive person.
But it also means that I am extremely unprepared for coping with times when I suddenly find myself not productive, as I did this week. Rather than writing, I found myself making bread, eating cookies, reading novels, watching Ghost Hunters, winning awards, animating hands, and playing Irish pub music on Hannibal the piano. And I seemed incapable of breaking this vicious cycle. So I turned to my authorial friends. I rely a lot on the wisdom of my friends when I get stumped, and so last night, I reached out to my friend Jackson Pearce and asked for her oracular advice on my unproductivity. (that's Jackson ---->)
The following occurred.
This struck me as sage advice as I had not left the house in approximately three months when I was last on tour, so I went to bed early with the intention of taking Thing 1 and Thing 2 to school the next day (a task ordinarily relegated to Lover) and then Going Somewhere and Doing Something. The following morning, I rose with the birds, packed school lunches (bread and cookies, because as you could see, we had plenty on hand), and journeyed off to the Big City with the children, driving Slick the Wonder Car.
Well! I thought as I drove. This is already doing quite well! I have story ideas already! I am quite awake! It is not even 8 a.m.! Truly Jackson is wise!
Then I dropped off Things 1 & 2, and because I needed to Go Somewhere, I went to the Big City's Super Target to get some bagels for Thing 2 and some acid for my contact lenses and also several pairs of cheap sunglasses because I had lost the Very Expensive Ones that Lover had gotten me and because the sun was a lot brighter than I remembered from 2011, when I last left my house. By virtue of it being not even 8:30 a.m., the Super Target was virtually empty, apart from the 4,002 employees restocking the shelves. I ogled my books in the book section, because I'm classy like that, and then I collected my items and headed toward the front. There was only one register open, with the cashier standing in front of it (I told you, I was the only customer there), and I made a bee line toward her, smiling in a way that I hoped was more "good morning I am human" and less "my teeth are bared run away." Cashier smiled back, but then her face abruptly changed.
CASHIER: Oh my God.
ME: !
CASHIER: Are you?
ME: . . .
CASHIER: Maggie?
ME: . . .
CASHIER: Stiefvater?
My thoughts were twofold. 1) She pronounced my last name right! 2) This is all Jackson Pearce's fault.
ME *in retrospect, with probably more wariness than was warranted*: How did you know it was me?
CASHIER: I read your blog!
ME: *I am never leaving the house without brushing my hair again*
If you are reading this, friendly cashier and blog reader, I am sorry for goggling my eyeballs at you. I had not left the house in a very long time, as I mentioned, and when I did finally emerge, it seemed that I had become famous. Or at the very least, like someone who really ought to brush their hair before leaving their house. And so I'm sure I would be more coherent now, but at the moment, I know there was eye goggling involved.
Anyway, I then staggered back to Slick the Wonder Car. For a moment, I was distracted from Jackson's advice by my urgent need to drink the mango smoothie I had just purchased while listening to a very obnoxious piece of music (you won't like it) and picking the UV sticker off the cheap sunglasses I had just purchased. Then, putting on the sunglasses and coming to, I realized that it was not enough to have Gone Somewhere. Remembering Jackson's exhortation to Do Something, I put the car in gear and drove to the Mitsubishi dealer*.
*Oh, I am so relieved that I have announced RAVEN BOYS so this following story involving Mitsubishis will have a modicum of context.
Because it was not yet 9 a.m., I assumed the dealer was closed, so I cruised into the parking lot and backed Slick the Wonder Car into an empty spot. Ha! I was woefully mistaken, dear reader! The moment I stepped out of the car, a dealer-man manifested directly next to me.
DEALER-MAN: What can I DO for YOU?
ME: I am here to look at Evos.
DEALER-MAN: *strangled noise*
ME: What was that? That noise?
DEALER-MAN: *wordlessly points from Slick the Wonder Car to the Evos.* *finally manages* But you have that. WHY?
ME: That is anti-salesmanship, my good sir.
Do you know what a Mitsubishi Evo(lution) is, dear reader? It is this:
This marvelous thing goes from 0-60 in 4 seconds or something close to it, is not very expensive in the general sense of things that go 0-60 in less time that it takes you to find your car keys, and is generally clumped in the greater automotive lexicon of Boy Racer. It is quite precisely what you would expect to find a Raven Boy in, which was why I was there, but it was also quite clearly not what DealerMan expected to find a Maggie in (which is patently false. If I did not have Loki and Slick the Wonder Car, I would consider a Boy Racer because I enjoy both speed and irony, and me in an Evo would accomplish both neatly).
For a moment, I thought about inventing a story about how I was contemplating trading Slick the Wonder Car in for an Evo because I'd caught my husband and my dog trainer in the back seat of Slick the Wonder Car, or how I had watched 2 Fast 2 Furious so often that my life wouldn't be complete without an Evo, or how I just couldn't bear the unremitting Slickness of Slick the Wonder Car and needed something less slick, but then I remembered that I lived in the Big City and had just been recognized in a Super Target, so it wouldn't behoove me to go around telling grandiose falsehoods in case I ran into DealerMan again in a different context.
So instead I told him who I was and that one of my characters was driving an Evo in my next book (the sequel to Raven Boys) and that he had absolutely no chance of selling one to me as I merely wanted to poke around for research's sake. Unperturbed, DealerMan spent the next 30 minutes talking about Evos and then he got the key and let me sit in it and start it up. I would've test-driven it, too, although there was no earthly reason to test-drive one for purposes of my novel, but apparently you cannot test-drive Evos, because they know that all you want to do is find out if it really does go 0-60 in less time than it takes you to say "Excuse me, ma'am, can I have a ham and cheese sandwich with lettuce but no mayonnaise, please?"
Then DealerMan and I parted ways amicably and I drove home and wrote a chapter with a Mitsubishi Evo in it. It's a very fine chapter, if I do say so myself.
So thank you, Jackson Pearce. It turned out all I really needed was to Go Somewhere and Do Something.
But it also means that I am extremely unprepared for coping with times when I suddenly find myself not productive, as I did this week. Rather than writing, I found myself making bread, eating cookies, reading novels, watching Ghost Hunters, winning awards, animating hands, and playing Irish pub music on Hannibal the piano. And I seemed incapable of breaking this vicious cycle. So I turned to my authorial friends. I rely a lot on the wisdom of my friends when I get stumped, and so last night, I reached out to my friend Jackson Pearce and asked for her oracular advice on my unproductivity. (that's Jackson ---->)The following occurred.
This struck me as sage advice as I had not left the house in approximately three months when I was last on tour, so I went to bed early with the intention of taking Thing 1 and Thing 2 to school the next day (a task ordinarily relegated to Lover) and then Going Somewhere and Doing Something. The following morning, I rose with the birds, packed school lunches (bread and cookies, because as you could see, we had plenty on hand), and journeyed off to the Big City with the children, driving Slick the Wonder Car.
Well! I thought as I drove. This is already doing quite well! I have story ideas already! I am quite awake! It is not even 8 a.m.! Truly Jackson is wise!
Then I dropped off Things 1 & 2, and because I needed to Go Somewhere, I went to the Big City's Super Target to get some bagels for Thing 2 and some acid for my contact lenses and also several pairs of cheap sunglasses because I had lost the Very Expensive Ones that Lover had gotten me and because the sun was a lot brighter than I remembered from 2011, when I last left my house. By virtue of it being not even 8:30 a.m., the Super Target was virtually empty, apart from the 4,002 employees restocking the shelves. I ogled my books in the book section, because I'm classy like that, and then I collected my items and headed toward the front. There was only one register open, with the cashier standing in front of it (I told you, I was the only customer there), and I made a bee line toward her, smiling in a way that I hoped was more "good morning I am human" and less "my teeth are bared run away." Cashier smiled back, but then her face abruptly changed.
CASHIER: Oh my God.
ME: !
CASHIER: Are you?
ME: . . .
CASHIER: Maggie?
ME: . . .
CASHIER: Stiefvater?
My thoughts were twofold. 1) She pronounced my last name right! 2) This is all Jackson Pearce's fault.
ME *in retrospect, with probably more wariness than was warranted*: How did you know it was me?
CASHIER: I read your blog!
ME: *I am never leaving the house without brushing my hair again*
If you are reading this, friendly cashier and blog reader, I am sorry for goggling my eyeballs at you. I had not left the house in a very long time, as I mentioned, and when I did finally emerge, it seemed that I had become famous. Or at the very least, like someone who really ought to brush their hair before leaving their house. And so I'm sure I would be more coherent now, but at the moment, I know there was eye goggling involved.
Anyway, I then staggered back to Slick the Wonder Car. For a moment, I was distracted from Jackson's advice by my urgent need to drink the mango smoothie I had just purchased while listening to a very obnoxious piece of music (you won't like it) and picking the UV sticker off the cheap sunglasses I had just purchased. Then, putting on the sunglasses and coming to, I realized that it was not enough to have Gone Somewhere. Remembering Jackson's exhortation to Do Something, I put the car in gear and drove to the Mitsubishi dealer*.*Oh, I am so relieved that I have announced RAVEN BOYS so this following story involving Mitsubishis will have a modicum of context.
Because it was not yet 9 a.m., I assumed the dealer was closed, so I cruised into the parking lot and backed Slick the Wonder Car into an empty spot. Ha! I was woefully mistaken, dear reader! The moment I stepped out of the car, a dealer-man manifested directly next to me.
DEALER-MAN: What can I DO for YOU?
ME: I am here to look at Evos.
DEALER-MAN: *strangled noise*
ME: What was that? That noise?
DEALER-MAN: *wordlessly points from Slick the Wonder Car to the Evos.* *finally manages* But you have that. WHY?
ME: That is anti-salesmanship, my good sir.
Do you know what a Mitsubishi Evo(lution) is, dear reader? It is this:
This marvelous thing goes from 0-60 in 4 seconds or something close to it, is not very expensive in the general sense of things that go 0-60 in less time that it takes you to find your car keys, and is generally clumped in the greater automotive lexicon of Boy Racer. It is quite precisely what you would expect to find a Raven Boy in, which was why I was there, but it was also quite clearly not what DealerMan expected to find a Maggie in (which is patently false. If I did not have Loki and Slick the Wonder Car, I would consider a Boy Racer because I enjoy both speed and irony, and me in an Evo would accomplish both neatly).
For a moment, I thought about inventing a story about how I was contemplating trading Slick the Wonder Car in for an Evo because I'd caught my husband and my dog trainer in the back seat of Slick the Wonder Car, or how I had watched 2 Fast 2 Furious so often that my life wouldn't be complete without an Evo, or how I just couldn't bear the unremitting Slickness of Slick the Wonder Car and needed something less slick, but then I remembered that I lived in the Big City and had just been recognized in a Super Target, so it wouldn't behoove me to go around telling grandiose falsehoods in case I ran into DealerMan again in a different context.
So instead I told him who I was and that one of my characters was driving an Evo in my next book (the sequel to Raven Boys) and that he had absolutely no chance of selling one to me as I merely wanted to poke around for research's sake. Unperturbed, DealerMan spent the next 30 minutes talking about Evos and then he got the key and let me sit in it and start it up. I would've test-driven it, too, although there was no earthly reason to test-drive one for purposes of my novel, but apparently you cannot test-drive Evos, because they know that all you want to do is find out if it really does go 0-60 in less time than it takes you to say "Excuse me, ma'am, can I have a ham and cheese sandwich with lettuce but no mayonnaise, please?"
Then DealerMan and I parted ways amicably and I drove home and wrote a chapter with a Mitsubishi Evo in it. It's a very fine chapter, if I do say so myself.
So thank you, Jackson Pearce. It turned out all I really needed was to Go Somewhere and Do Something.
February 2, 2012
And My Next Project Is . . .
Okay . . . so it is that moment. That moment where I reveal what MagicalNovel is really about. On Monday I mentioned that it was the most ambitious thing I'd ever tackled and I showed MagicalNovel's baby photos, and then I encouraged readers to guess what it was about, with hilarious results. (One reader — Cathrine M.H. — did get it precisely right and I will be sending her something prizey).
But now the guessing is over. It will be coming out September 18th of this year, and here is the cover.
*cuddles cover*
*cuddles it some more*
And here is the official summary:
It doesn't mention that Gansey wears top-siders for practically the entire novel, but that is also true. It doesn't mention that this was the book that had me soliciting Twitter for all that "boys behaving badly" music for the playlist while I wrote it, but that is also true. It also doesn't mention that THE RAVEN BOYS is book one in the four-book Raven Cycle, but that is also ALSO true.
So . . . there it is. I feel weird releasing this into the world, because it feels like such a different sort of project for me (which I now realize I have said every time I announce a new book). I've never planned out a series so painstakingly before, nor worked with so many characters. I'm having more fun than you can possibly imagine.
Well, possibly you can imagine it. Just insert my face hovering above three bowls of a cookie dough. That emotion is quite similar.
As always, if this sounds delightful, you can pre-order a signed and doodled in copy from Fountain Bookstore. Or you can pre-order from Amazon here.
I hope you guys love it. I leave you with the two songs iTunes informs me I listened to the most in this novel's playlist.
I realize the songs are very different, but so are Gansey and Blue. If you put those two tracks together, I think you have a pretty good idea of what this book is like.
But now the guessing is over. It will be coming out September 18th of this year, and here is the cover.
*cuddles cover*
*cuddles it some more*
And here is the official summary:
Filled with mystery, romance, and the supernatural, The Raven Boys introduces readers to Richard "Dick" Campbell Gansey, III and Blue Sargent. Gansey has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he's looking for much more than that. He is on the hunt to find Glendower, a vanished Welsh king. Legend has it that the first person to find him will be granted a wish—either by seeing him open his eyes, or by cutting out his heart.
Blue Sargent, the daughter of the town psychic in Henrietta, Virginia, has been told for as long as she can remember that if she ever kisses her true love, he will die. But she is too practical to believe in things like true love. Her policy is to stay away from the rich boys at the prestigious Aglionby Academy. The boys there—known as Raven Boys—can only mean trouble. When Gansey and his Raven Boy friends come into her life, Blue realizes how true this is. She never thought her fortune would be a problem. But she was wrong.
It doesn't mention that Gansey wears top-siders for practically the entire novel, but that is also true. It doesn't mention that this was the book that had me soliciting Twitter for all that "boys behaving badly" music for the playlist while I wrote it, but that is also true. It also doesn't mention that THE RAVEN BOYS is book one in the four-book Raven Cycle, but that is also ALSO true.
So . . . there it is. I feel weird releasing this into the world, because it feels like such a different sort of project for me (which I now realize I have said every time I announce a new book). I've never planned out a series so painstakingly before, nor worked with so many characters. I'm having more fun than you can possibly imagine.
Well, possibly you can imagine it. Just insert my face hovering above three bowls of a cookie dough. That emotion is quite similar.
As always, if this sounds delightful, you can pre-order a signed and doodled in copy from Fountain Bookstore. Or you can pre-order from Amazon here.
I hope you guys love it. I leave you with the two songs iTunes informs me I listened to the most in this novel's playlist.
I realize the songs are very different, but so are Gansey and Blue. If you put those two tracks together, I think you have a pretty good idea of what this book is like.
January 31, 2012
The Cagey is Almost Done
I am very pleased to report that my caginess about MagicalNovel is nearly done. Scholastic has given me the okay to reveal the details of my next project this Thursday. That is barely any time away from now! That is practically now!
But I'm still impatient.
So I shall tell you things that MagicalNovel is not. It is not the sequel to LAMENT & BALLAD. That's REQUIEM (briefly known on Twitter as WinterNovel), and I'm working on it on the weekends and it will eventually appear. It is not a sequel to THE SCORPIO RACES or FOREVER (these things will not happen).
And I shall tell you something that it is: namely, a project I've been cooking ever since I was 19 or 20, back when I was not a good enough writer to pull it off, an origin story that might sound similar to THE SCORPIO RACES'. What can I say? I wrote lots of crappy novels with good ideas back then. I have in fact been carrying around a hand-written draft of this manuscript through four moves, written in a journal which pretty much begged for something like MagicalNovel to be scrawled in it.
Now, MagicalNovel doesn't resemble that old manuscript very much, but the central conflict and most of the main characters' names are unchanged. Even back then it was the most ambitious thing I'd ever tackled, and even using everything I learned so far, it is possibly the hardest novel I have ever written, a fact I hope will not be obvious on the pages.
So, guesses? Closest to the actual novel will get a prize that I haven't thought of yet. Something prizey.
But I'm still impatient.
So I shall tell you things that MagicalNovel is not. It is not the sequel to LAMENT & BALLAD. That's REQUIEM (briefly known on Twitter as WinterNovel), and I'm working on it on the weekends and it will eventually appear. It is not a sequel to THE SCORPIO RACES or FOREVER (these things will not happen).
And I shall tell you something that it is: namely, a project I've been cooking ever since I was 19 or 20, back when I was not a good enough writer to pull it off, an origin story that might sound similar to THE SCORPIO RACES'. What can I say? I wrote lots of crappy novels with good ideas back then. I have in fact been carrying around a hand-written draft of this manuscript through four moves, written in a journal which pretty much begged for something like MagicalNovel to be scrawled in it.
Now, MagicalNovel doesn't resemble that old manuscript very much, but the central conflict and most of the main characters' names are unchanged. Even back then it was the most ambitious thing I'd ever tackled, and even using everything I learned so far, it is possibly the hardest novel I have ever written, a fact I hope will not be obvious on the pages.
So, guesses? Closest to the actual novel will get a prize that I haven't thought of yet. Something prizey.
January 23, 2012
From Rough to Final: TEN Dissections
So, do you remember the last time I blogged? Like, two hours ago? This blog post was originally scheduled to be that blog post, because I hadn't planned on winning a Printz Honor or Odyssey Honor today. Anyway, I did, and I posted about them first, but now that that little life-paradigm-changing news is out of the way, I can talk about a group effort that I'm really pleased about.
This is going to be a writing post.
I'm a hands-on learner, one of those people who would prefer to be told "recreate x" without a strict set of directions on how to get there. So when I posted my dissection of a rough chapter from THE SCORPIO RACES, with a description of why I changed the things I did, I was doing it because it would've helped starting-out-writer-Maggie in a way that theory never seemed to. For me, it was all right to be told how to do something. But it was even better to see someone at work at that something. If they would describe what they were doing at the same time, even better, but really, the most important thing was the work in progress. It's why when I taught my colored pencil classes, I used to do the same thing:
The reaction to my chapter dissection suggested that I wasn't alone in my learning style, and a few commenters wished that other authors might do something similar. I shot out some feelers and I'm pleased to tell you, some other authors are doing just that. Below is a list of dissection blog posts by ten other authors. I hope this helps show just how many different ways there are to get from A to B, and also gives everybody ideas on which way might be right for them. And thanks to the readers who prodded me in this direction. Without further ado, the blog posts:
Kimberly Derting writes about THE PLEDGE, developing real characters, and debating swearing and no-swearing.
Jaclyn Dolamore writes about MAGIC UNDER GLASS and pacing issues, struggling with descriptive versus info-dump, and the cutting of entire human beings from drafts.
Sonia Gessler writes about THE REVENANT and how to flesh out a moment using knowledge gained through multiple drafts. Fascinating stuff for those of you who tend to end up with really short drafts and aren't sure what you're missing (as I was when I first started out).
Dawn Metcalf writes about LUMINOUS and the process of finding out the difference between what the reader needs to see in order to know what's going on versus what you need to write to find out for yourself what's going on.
Saundra Mitchell writes about THE VESPERTINE and how drastically pacing can and should change, especially in crucial early chapters. Bonus round: examination on how to balance period language in your novel.
Jenny Moss writes about SHADOW and, like Sonia, talks about how you can take a very spare manuscript and turn it from a skeleton into a creature with flesh and facial features. Moreover, looks at the timeline for writing a novel, and just how long a quick draft can really take.
Jon Skovron writes about MISFIT and a very satisfyingly changed final draft — lots of red Xs and vanishing prose in this one, people. Though my Scorpio dissection made me look like a very tidy reviser, my process with MagicalNovel and Shiver looked a lot more like Jon's process with Misfit.
Kiersten White writes about PARANORMALCY and her line-by-line attack on her draft. To me, it feels very familiar — definitely similar to the thought process I undertook when cleaning up Scorpio.
Brenna Yovanoff writes about THE SPACE BETWEEN and her extremely skeletal first drafts. Brenna's one of my two critique partners and I've always been stunned and delighted and afraid of her first drafts — they are alien things of terror, full of non-words. I'm wishing she would've shown one of her more terrifying pages (they are full of place holder thingies) but you probably will learn more frm the one she picked.
Margo Lanagan writes about THE BRIDES OF ROLLROCK ISLAND. I very much enjoy Margo's precise language and in her dissection of her latest selkie novel, I can see where it comes from. Click on the images below to see them larger.
Rough Draft
As Novella
Final Draft
Margo's Comments:
Okay. So now what is going to happen is I am going to go make the world's largest batch of chocolate chip cookie dough because I just don't see how I can process the events of this week without it. Tomorrow I'm flying out to work on my anthology with Brenna Yovanoff and Tessa Gratton and I'm afraid they're going to have to bear the brunt of my demented grinning.
This is going to be a writing post.
I'm a hands-on learner, one of those people who would prefer to be told "recreate x" without a strict set of directions on how to get there. So when I posted my dissection of a rough chapter from THE SCORPIO RACES, with a description of why I changed the things I did, I was doing it because it would've helped starting-out-writer-Maggie in a way that theory never seemed to. For me, it was all right to be told how to do something. But it was even better to see someone at work at that something. If they would describe what they were doing at the same time, even better, but really, the most important thing was the work in progress. It's why when I taught my colored pencil classes, I used to do the same thing:
The reaction to my chapter dissection suggested that I wasn't alone in my learning style, and a few commenters wished that other authors might do something similar. I shot out some feelers and I'm pleased to tell you, some other authors are doing just that. Below is a list of dissection blog posts by ten other authors. I hope this helps show just how many different ways there are to get from A to B, and also gives everybody ideas on which way might be right for them. And thanks to the readers who prodded me in this direction. Without further ado, the blog posts:
Kimberly Derting writes about THE PLEDGE, developing real characters, and debating swearing and no-swearing.
Jaclyn Dolamore writes about MAGIC UNDER GLASS and pacing issues, struggling with descriptive versus info-dump, and the cutting of entire human beings from drafts.
Sonia Gessler writes about THE REVENANT and how to flesh out a moment using knowledge gained through multiple drafts. Fascinating stuff for those of you who tend to end up with really short drafts and aren't sure what you're missing (as I was when I first started out).
Dawn Metcalf writes about LUMINOUS and the process of finding out the difference between what the reader needs to see in order to know what's going on versus what you need to write to find out for yourself what's going on.
Saundra Mitchell writes about THE VESPERTINE and how drastically pacing can and should change, especially in crucial early chapters. Bonus round: examination on how to balance period language in your novel.
Jenny Moss writes about SHADOW and, like Sonia, talks about how you can take a very spare manuscript and turn it from a skeleton into a creature with flesh and facial features. Moreover, looks at the timeline for writing a novel, and just how long a quick draft can really take.
Jon Skovron writes about MISFIT and a very satisfyingly changed final draft — lots of red Xs and vanishing prose in this one, people. Though my Scorpio dissection made me look like a very tidy reviser, my process with MagicalNovel and Shiver looked a lot more like Jon's process with Misfit.
Kiersten White writes about PARANORMALCY and her line-by-line attack on her draft. To me, it feels very familiar — definitely similar to the thought process I undertook when cleaning up Scorpio.
Brenna Yovanoff writes about THE SPACE BETWEEN and her extremely skeletal first drafts. Brenna's one of my two critique partners and I've always been stunned and delighted and afraid of her first drafts — they are alien things of terror, full of non-words. I'm wishing she would've shown one of her more terrifying pages (they are full of place holder thingies) but you probably will learn more frm the one she picked.
Margo Lanagan writes about THE BRIDES OF ROLLROCK ISLAND. I very much enjoy Margo's precise language and in her dissection of her latest selkie novel, I can see where it comes from. Click on the images below to see them larger.
Rough Draft
As Novella
Final DraftMargo's Comments:
Okay. So now what is going to happen is I am going to go make the world's largest batch of chocolate chip cookie dough because I just don't see how I can process the events of this week without it. Tomorrow I'm flying out to work on my anthology with Brenna Yovanoff and Tessa Gratton and I'm afraid they're going to have to bear the brunt of my demented grinning.
How Caller ID Nearly Prevented A Very Nice Sunday (Twice)
I'm trying to figure out how to write this blog post. It wasn't the post I'd thought I'd be writing this morning — I actually have another major writing blog post that's going to go up later this afternoon, a collaborative thing with a bunch of awesome authors — and I reckon if I'd known how today was going to go when I was scheduling it, I would've done things differently.Because today was the day of the ALA Youth Media Awards. You know, that fancy day when they announce the winner of the Newbery (for excellent children's books for 14 and under), the Caldecott (excellent illustrated children's books), and the Printz (excellent young adult books). I was keeping my eye on them for no other reason than the Alex Award winners would also be announced at the same time, and I generally make it a point to read and love all of the Alex Award winners.
But yesterday while I was vacuuming my house for company, my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number and I am hateful of telephones, so I nearly didn't pick it up, but then I thought: perhaps it is one of my author people's cellphone.
ME: Hello?
THEM: *garblesmackgarble*
ME: I can't quite —
THEM: *garblesmackErinfromgarblePrintzsmack*
ME: (thinking, this is a bad connection, truly, I thought they said Printz committee there!)
THEM: ERIN, THE CHAIRMAN OF THE THE PRINTZ COMMITTEEsmacksmackgarble
I then rambled incoherently in their ear about how I couldn't really hear them and moved into my piano room as if that would make the connection better (it did not) and then out of shame and regret that I couldn't hear the Printz committee when they were clearly trying very hard to be heard by me, I lied and told them I could understand them perfectly. So I'll relay the rest of the conversation to you, but in order to understand it, you have to imagine their voice with an octopus' accent. You know, watery.
THEM: We're calling to tell you that THE SCORPIO RACES has been awarded a Printz honor!
ME: . . . of course you are.
THEM: . . .
ME: I'm going to pass out now.
At that point the phone connection failed. I debated for a moment if it was unprofessional to call THE PRINTZ COMMITTEE back as they probably had extremely important things to do and had, after all, conveyed their message to me. However, I was struck by the knowledge that if I didn't call them back, they might believe that I had fallen down and struck my head on my piano and then decide to give my Honor to a more physically able candidate.
ME: *dials* Hi. I didn't pass out.
THEM: We thought we'd lost you!
I can't remember what happened then. I think I said "thank you" approximately 17 times, and then they told me I couldn't tell anyone anything until Monday, and then they left me in the silence of my unplayed piano room to stare at my phone.
And as if that wasn't enough, I had to pick up another call from an unrecognized number yesterday, which turned out to be the producer of my audio books, letting me know that The Scorpio Races had won an Odyssey Honor, which is the ALA award for excellence in audio books. You see? I TOLD YOU I loved my narrators.
I still haven't really processed it, though I watched the ALA webcast of the awards and my legs got all noodly when they said my name and saw the medal on my book. I mean, my book. With a medal. So many of the books I grew up loving bore one of these three medals — Printz, Caldecott, Newbery — and now I have one too.
Saying it that way makes me a little breathless, so maybe I am starting to internalize it. Maybe.
I should tell you, too, that by way of celebration, I went immediately to Fountain Bookstore's website and ordered all of the Alex Award winners that I didn't already own.
What a fine, fine day.
/noodly
Maggie Stiefvater
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