Cynthia Hand's Blog, page 7
August 21, 2012
The Cutting Room Floor
I'm back to the grindstone with Boundless, working on a new round of edits. And I'm preparing for my son's grand debut into kindergarten. And I'm prepping for two classes that I am teaching at Pepperdine, also starting next week: my Intro to Creative Writing class and a YA lit class that I've never taught before and therefore have a ton of extra prep work to do. And I am writing a short story for an anthology. I have a very long interview to write up. And reading a friend's manuscript. And a bunch of other stuff.
In other words, I just got really freaking busy.
So, in the midst of all this craziness, I am coming back to Boundless with the intent to cut at least 5,000 words. At least. Whole scenes are hitting the cutting room floor. Whole scenes, people!
Trimming an entire scene always hurts like a paper cut.
In the past, I've taken some consolation in the fact that the deleted scenes from my books can be made available in different ways. I can use them as exclusive content for the Young Adult Scavenger Hunt, which I do twice a year, and there are a few other sites where my cut stuff has ended up since Unearthly was published. It makes the cut sting a bit less, knowing that even though the scene wasn't good or important enough to make it into the book, that doesn't mean that nobody will ever see it. Deleted scenes are fun!
But here's what's bugging me today:
Hmm, where to begin? Okay. Here goes. I try not to read reviews. I am getting better at it, too, the not-reading-reviews thing, I mean. I hardly ever check Goodreads anymore, because I ultimately think that it's not good for me as an artist. If I read too many reviews I start thinking differently about my story, not for the sake of the art, but for the sake of people pleasing. I start having imaginary conversations with people I don't know at 2am, where I say to them, pleadingly, "Yes, yes, I know that it's a love triangle, technically, but really, if you'd just examine the entire thing more closely, you'd see that it's not a real love triangle. . ."
It makes me think about Daniel Radcliffe during an interview, when he was asked, "Do you read what people say about you?" and he immediately responded, "No. That way lies madness."
Yes. Reading your own reviews=madness. I get that. I try to resist the temptation. Most of the time.
So imagine me this morning, sitting down to chop away at my current manuscript. I work for a while. I check Twitter. I check my email. A Google alerts comes up, which alerts me to the fact that somebody has just reviewed Unearthly 2.1. Wha?????! I think. But no, mustn't read a review, I think. But what the heck is Unearthly 2.1?
I click the link. Yes, it's true. There is an Unearthly 2.1, a cut scene from Hallowed. 252 people have rated this scene, and something like 30 people have reviewed it.
My first thought is, Cool, 252 people have read my deleted scene!
My next thought is, Wow, there are about 20 people who really don't like this scene.
My next thought is, Oh come on, people. It's a DELETED scene. Which means it didn't make the cut. It wasn't good enough. Relax! There are real scenes, IN THE BOOK, so go read those.
And I'm back to having imaginary conversations with people I don't know.
Sigh. Well, that's why I avoid reading reviews, isn't it? I remind myself. No biggie. Except now, when I go back to work on my Boundless manuscript, I think, well, this scene has to go, but is it good enough to ever see the light of day? Because if I release this scene, it will probably get REVIEWED.
This makes me want to revise the scene I'm going to cut. Which is so not the point of cutting extraneous scenes. And so not a good use of my time.
And, ultimately, it makes me less likely to want to share my deleted scenes. I cut them because they weren't good enough. To cut them and then have people criticize them for not being good enough is a bit like pouring lemon juice in my paper cut.
Ouch. Ouch, I say.
Now, I also want to make a few things clear. Prepare for the disclaimer:
1. Goodreads is good. As an avid reader, I adore Goodreads. As an author, it kind of terrifies me, but that's okay. That's natural. As an author, I should be scared of Goodreads. But I am 100% glad Goodreads exists. In fact, I attribute Goodreads to a big part of Unearthly's success. To date Unearthly has 3,781 reviews (and over 25,000 ratings), so many of them good. People are talking about my books, and I am so grateful that there is a place like Goodreads where they can talk about my books.
2. I think people, on Goodreads and elsewhere, have an absolute right to their opinions, and should be able to write whatever they want in their reviews. Period. I have imaginary conversations with some of my negative reviewers, but never in a million years would I ever dream of actually communicating with the writer of a negative review. They deserve to be able to voice their opinions without being confronted by the authors or their friends. (I do, however, sometimes think wistfully about the old days when all the critics ran in the same social circles as the writers and occasionally Hemingway liked to quote a critic's bad review back to him at a party and then punch him in the face. There was a kind of accountability for what you said, back then, before the basic anonymity of the internet.)
3. I most likely will release more deleted scenes, not to worry, because my publisher thinks it's good publicity and because, at the end of the day, I still like those scenes, and it makes me happy to be able to share them with people who will get a kick out of reading them. Which leads me to. . .
4. Maybe I'm overreacting. I am willing to consider this possibility. Maybe this whole post is a kind of knee-jerk reaction to the surprise of being reviewed on something I didn't expect to be reviewed on.
So tell me, what do you think? Are reviews for deleted scenes a good thing? Do you think this practice will make authors more hesitant to release deleted scenes, or is it just another sign of the technological age we live in, that we get to see and judge all content, not just what makes it into the pages of a print book? What should become of all that extra stuff on the cutting room floor?
August 15, 2012
Writing Short
I'm a writing fool.
I finished a novella yesterday, which was great fun. Unfortunately I can't tell you much about it. Stay tuned.
I celebrated finishing said novella by having ice cream for dinner. Don't judge: it was 86 degrees in my house at seven o'clock last night. (For more of why I don't just buy an air conditioner already, see this old post from last year's hot season. Still true this year.) I had a chocolate shake from McDonalds. With a cherry. Mmmmm. It was delicious. It was 750 calories. That's dinner.
This week I'm also working on a short story, which has brought a few things to light:
1. It's been a long time since I've written a short story. Like, more than six years. This blows my mind since writing short stories used to be what I did best. That's what I was trained in, after all. I have written two separate collections of literary short stories. I also got my publishing start with short stories; in fact, it was an old short story of mine that brought my agent to me. So writing a short story again feels like visiting a past version of myself as a writer. A ghost of the writer I used to be.
She's more concise than I am.
2. Writing short stories is hard. Before I'd written any novels, back when I was simply a proud short story writer, I used to tell my students that good short story writing was actually harder than good novel writing. You have to be ruthless. Economical. Smart. You have to make an arc fit within the span of fifteen or twenty pages. You're not free to ramble about the way novelists do. Every single word has to count.
Then I wrote a novel. And another. And another. Today, if somebody told me that short story writing is easier than novel writing, this would be my response:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
And then I would quite possibly slap him/her.
Short story writing is not easier than novel writing. You don't have to keep 1400 pages of story straight in your head all at once. But short story writing is hard. It requires an intense focus. It's like a fast sprint, whereas novel writing is a marathon.
3. I am rusty at being ruthless. I find this odd, since my writer's brain is in good shape right now. I've been bench pressing more than 1000 words a day for quite a while. I'm fit. But this week as I sat down to write this story, thinking to myself, this will be easy, I can do it in an afternoon, I'm sure, I was struck by how lazy I've become when it comes to word count. I'm used to writing horizontally as opposed to vertically, which means that I often just let myself go and write whatever strikes me, focusing on getting something down and fixing it up later. (As the writer Chris Offutt used to say, "When I write, I throw in everything but the kitchen sink. . . and then I throw in the kitchen sink and turn on both faucets." Yeah. That's me. Sidenote: Is Chris Offutt that guy in the rocking chair on the credits of TrueBlood? Because I swear that's him.) Writing this way allows you more surprises, more discovery of the story as you go, but it's also less meticulous than writing vertically, when you don't leave a sentence until it's as good as it can be.
Writing horizontally also makes for chubby drafts.
This is the part of this blog where, if my editor was reading this, she would snort and point out that my last draft of Boundless was close to 115,000 words.
It's not fat. It's big boned, I keep telling her.
So this writing a short story is good exercise. I'm slimming down.
I finished a novella yesterday, which was great fun. Unfortunately I can't tell you much about it. Stay tuned.
I celebrated finishing said novella by having ice cream for dinner. Don't judge: it was 86 degrees in my house at seven o'clock last night. (For more of why I don't just buy an air conditioner already, see this old post from last year's hot season. Still true this year.) I had a chocolate shake from McDonalds. With a cherry. Mmmmm. It was delicious. It was 750 calories. That's dinner.
This week I'm also working on a short story, which has brought a few things to light:
1. It's been a long time since I've written a short story. Like, more than six years. This blows my mind since writing short stories used to be what I did best. That's what I was trained in, after all. I have written two separate collections of literary short stories. I also got my publishing start with short stories; in fact, it was an old short story of mine that brought my agent to me. So writing a short story again feels like visiting a past version of myself as a writer. A ghost of the writer I used to be.
She's more concise than I am.
2. Writing short stories is hard. Before I'd written any novels, back when I was simply a proud short story writer, I used to tell my students that good short story writing was actually harder than good novel writing. You have to be ruthless. Economical. Smart. You have to make an arc fit within the span of fifteen or twenty pages. You're not free to ramble about the way novelists do. Every single word has to count.
Then I wrote a novel. And another. And another. Today, if somebody told me that short story writing is easier than novel writing, this would be my response:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
And then I would quite possibly slap him/her.
Short story writing is not easier than novel writing. You don't have to keep 1400 pages of story straight in your head all at once. But short story writing is hard. It requires an intense focus. It's like a fast sprint, whereas novel writing is a marathon.
3. I am rusty at being ruthless. I find this odd, since my writer's brain is in good shape right now. I've been bench pressing more than 1000 words a day for quite a while. I'm fit. But this week as I sat down to write this story, thinking to myself, this will be easy, I can do it in an afternoon, I'm sure, I was struck by how lazy I've become when it comes to word count. I'm used to writing horizontally as opposed to vertically, which means that I often just let myself go and write whatever strikes me, focusing on getting something down and fixing it up later. (As the writer Chris Offutt used to say, "When I write, I throw in everything but the kitchen sink. . . and then I throw in the kitchen sink and turn on both faucets." Yeah. That's me. Sidenote: Is Chris Offutt that guy in the rocking chair on the credits of TrueBlood? Because I swear that's him.) Writing this way allows you more surprises, more discovery of the story as you go, but it's also less meticulous than writing vertically, when you don't leave a sentence until it's as good as it can be.
Writing horizontally also makes for chubby drafts.
This is the part of this blog where, if my editor was reading this, she would snort and point out that my last draft of Boundless was close to 115,000 words.
It's not fat. It's big boned, I keep telling her.
So this writing a short story is good exercise. I'm slimming down.
August 5, 2012
Writing For Joy
When I get stressed I am easily distracted. For instance: when I was working on the revisions for Boundless, I had to actively work to not play The Hunger Games, which is one of those facebook games where you spend about three minutes at a time on before you run out of "energy." Is it a good game? Um, no. Not really. There's nothing challenging or cool about it. But I still felt my mind returning, over and over, to the desire to play. Ooh, I would think. Maybe I have enough energy to pick all the roses in President Snow's garden. . . And off I would go.
Not productive.
I also had to work to stay off Twitter and facebook in general and refuse to give in to the urge to check my email every few minutes.
Why? I kept asking myself. You have work to do! Get to it!
But it was hard work. Intense work. My brain was metaphorically sweating, for hours at a time. And all it wanted was a little breather to do something mindless for say, three minutes.
What's funny to me is that pretty much the minute I pressed send and sent the new-and-improved Boundless draft to my editor, I lost the desire to play the game. Or hang out on Twitter and facebook. It took about a week of resting, getting adequate sleep, weaning myself off the caffeine I used via iced tea to get myself through the deadline, cleaning my house so that my mind felt uncluttered, but at the end of all of that, I felt like myself again.
Whew.
And then I wanted to write. Not for work. Not for pay (although pay is good. I like pay.) but for the sheer joy of writing. For the fun of finding characters and watching them go do their unexpected things. For the beauty of language. For the play of ideas.
It is soooooo good to write out of joy again.
Right now I am working on:
a novella. Details on that to come.a short story for a very awesome anthology that I was thrilled to be asked to be a part ofa new noveland still stewing over the final changes I need to make to Boundless. Cuz we're not done yet, folks.So yeah, I'm busy. Again. Still. Whatever. But it feels so good to write!
Not productive.
I also had to work to stay off Twitter and facebook in general and refuse to give in to the urge to check my email every few minutes.
Why? I kept asking myself. You have work to do! Get to it!
But it was hard work. Intense work. My brain was metaphorically sweating, for hours at a time. And all it wanted was a little breather to do something mindless for say, three minutes.
What's funny to me is that pretty much the minute I pressed send and sent the new-and-improved Boundless draft to my editor, I lost the desire to play the game. Or hang out on Twitter and facebook. It took about a week of resting, getting adequate sleep, weaning myself off the caffeine I used via iced tea to get myself through the deadline, cleaning my house so that my mind felt uncluttered, but at the end of all of that, I felt like myself again.
Whew.
And then I wanted to write. Not for work. Not for pay (although pay is good. I like pay.) but for the sheer joy of writing. For the fun of finding characters and watching them go do their unexpected things. For the beauty of language. For the play of ideas.
It is soooooo good to write out of joy again.
Right now I am working on:
a novella. Details on that to come.a short story for a very awesome anthology that I was thrilled to be asked to be a part ofa new noveland still stewing over the final changes I need to make to Boundless. Cuz we're not done yet, folks.So yeah, I'm busy. Again. Still. Whatever. But it feels so good to write!
August 1, 2012
YA Scavenger Hunt
Welcome to YA Scavenger Hunt! This tri-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors...and a chance to win some awesome prizes! At this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize--one lucky winner will receive TWENTY-FIVE signed books, one book from each author on the hunt in my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!
Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are TWO contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the BLUE TEAM--but there is also a red team for a chance to win a whole different set of twenty-five signed books!
If you'd like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt homepage.
Scavenger Hunt PuzzleDirections: Below, you'll notice that I've listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the blue team, and then add them up (don't worry, you can use a calculator!).
Entry Form: Once you've added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian's permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by August 5, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
Scavenger Hunt PostToday, I am hosting Angela Corbett on my website for the YA Scavenger Hunt!
Angela CorbettAngela Corbett graduated from Westminster College with a double major in communication and sociology. She started working as a reporter for her local newspaper when she was sixteen and won awards for feature, news, and editorial writing. She has also done freelance writing. In addition to being an author, she works as a director of communications and marketing. She loves classic cars, traveling, and listening to U2. She lives in Utah with her extremely supportive husband and their five-pound Pomeranian, Pippin, whose following of fangirls could rival Justin Bieber's.Find out more information by checking out the author website or find more about the author's book here!
Buy the book from Amazon here!
Eternal StarlingA love so strong, even eternity can’t separate them.
Evie Starling has lived a relatively uneventful life hanging out with friends, gossiping about boys, and driving her 1966 Mustang. All of that changes when she moves to Gunnison, Colorado, to start college and meets two mysterious men.
For centuries, Alex Night and Emil Stone have yearned for Evie—but they each have their own reasons for wanting to be with her. When both men claim to be her soul mate and tell her about an unbelievable past, Evie learns that she’s not the person she thought she was. Soon, Evie finds herself in the middle of an age-old battle between the Amaranthine Society—the soul protectors, and the Daevos Resistance—the soul destroyers. With a past she doesn’t understand, and a future rife with danger, Evie has to decide who she can trust. But Alex and Emil aren’t the only ones who want Evie, and her soul is about to become the rope in an eternal tug-of-war.
Exclusive Content - Deleted SceneThis scene happens at the sand dunes, right after Evie and Alex get back from the lake. In an early draft, the characters introduced in this scene were a bigger part of Eternal Starling’s plot.
I grabbed one of my textbooks and sat down in an attempt to do some homework, though I knew my silent seething would make it difficult to concentrate. Alex sat down too, making small talk with my mom. I tried to ignore them.
I was in the middle of reading about Greek mythology when three guys from a neighboring camp walked up. “Hi,” one of the guys said. His wavy, copper colored hair was parted on the side, hiding his left eye. He was slightly taller than me, and looked close to my age. His friends were both shorter than he was and looked a bit younger. “Hello,” my ever-friendly mom said. The guy slid his hands in his pockets as he glanced from me to my mom and Alex. “We just finished setting up camp and saw the Mustang on the other side of the motor home.” My mom nodded towards me. “It’s my daughter’s car.” I lifted my lips in a sly smile. I knew Alex would be annoyed at the interest I was once again getting for my car. The guys had shown up so conveniently after my argument with Alex; how could I turn down an opportunity to irritate him? I flashed them my biggest smile. “Hi, I’m Evie.” My flirty tone was so different from my normal voice, even I almost laughed. I heard Alex snort behind me. I shot him a glare over my shoulder before turning my attention back to the three guys. “It’s nice to meet you,” the guy said. “I’m Ryan.” He gestured to the two guys on his right. “This is Max, and Brody.”
“Hi guys,” I said in the same perky tone. “You wanna check out the car?” “Really?” Brody asked. “Sure!” I said with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader. “Follow me.” The three guys trailed me to my Mustang. I opened the hood, showing them the engine and answering their questions about the car. Alex must have been listening as the conversation became more flirtatious because he came around the corner and said, “Evie, dinner is almost ready.” I was pretty sure dinner wasn’t done, and didn’t care even if it was. “Really, Alex? Already?” I tried not to betray the playful tone I’d been using to speak with the guys. He gave me a stern look. “Yes, really.” “Okay.” I smiled sweetly. “I’ll be there soon.” Alex seemed hesitant to leave, a reaction that was not lost on my new friends. He gave me a measured stare before he turned and walked back to the other side of the motor home. Ryan had been watching the exchange with interest. “Oh, I was hoping that was your brother or something.” I gave a musical laugh. “He’s just a friend.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Does he know that?” “He should,” I said, hoping Alex was still listening. “He’s the one who made the decision.”
Enter the ContestAnd don't forget to enter the contest for a chance to win a ton of signed books by me, Cynthia Hand, and more! To enter, you need to know that my favorite number is 17. Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the blue team and you'll have all the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
Continue the HuntTo keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author! Click here!
Enter The Extra Hallowed Giveaway
In honor of this special event, I'm going to give away 2 extra signed copies of Hallowed. Just follow the directions in the rafflecopter below:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
July 27, 2012
All the Pretty Notebooks
This week I've finally started drafting on my new project. I wish I could tell you more about it, I really do, but I can't. All I can say at this point is that it's a completely different world from my Unearthly universe (although, in some ways, not so much, as this new novel takes place largely in Idaho--at least the settings are similar) with a very different type of main character. Which is a good thing. I love Clara, and I've had so much fun with her for the past four years, but at this point I am getting a bit tired of her voice. It happens.
Love you, Clara. Now be quiet.
One of the things I love best about a new project is a new set of notebooks. These days I often write my draft zero out long hand, so I can get away from the computer and the allure of facebook and Twitter and the tons of emails that await me every time I sit down at my desk. I get a lot more done if I slip off to some quiet place with a notebook. And, like most writers, I am particular about the kind of notebook I work with. I like me a lined journal (college ruled or smaller, if I can find it) that will lay flat on a table. I like these pens I found about a year ago from Pilot that are made of recycled water bottles-- a gel roller with a super smooth line. I love those days when I go through all the ink in a pen in one day of work.
Yes, I'm a pen murderer. At least these pens are refillable.
I've found that one novel typically takes me 4 notebooks, to get from the first draft through the last draft of major revisions. I'm getting quite the collection, see?
Not all of my notebooks, but some: the bottom one is for Maggie's story, which I've been jotting down for a couple years just to understand Maggie and her past, the white and green is 2 out of the 4 of Hallowed, the 4 green with elephants is Boundless, the black and white composition book is--can you guess what that might be? If all goes well you might get to find this out in December or so-- and the top, my new project!!)
So, yay! New project! I have been refraining myself from working on this new book for almost a year now. The story is burning bright in my brain, and I only hope I can get it down fast enough, so it does not burn out before it's all on the page. I have about 50 handwritten pages of notes on the characters and their world so far, just waiting for me to pick it up for serious and draft.
I am so ready! Let the fun writing begin!
Love you, Clara. Now be quiet.
One of the things I love best about a new project is a new set of notebooks. These days I often write my draft zero out long hand, so I can get away from the computer and the allure of facebook and Twitter and the tons of emails that await me every time I sit down at my desk. I get a lot more done if I slip off to some quiet place with a notebook. And, like most writers, I am particular about the kind of notebook I work with. I like me a lined journal (college ruled or smaller, if I can find it) that will lay flat on a table. I like these pens I found about a year ago from Pilot that are made of recycled water bottles-- a gel roller with a super smooth line. I love those days when I go through all the ink in a pen in one day of work.
Yes, I'm a pen murderer. At least these pens are refillable.
I've found that one novel typically takes me 4 notebooks, to get from the first draft through the last draft of major revisions. I'm getting quite the collection, see?
Not all of my notebooks, but some: the bottom one is for Maggie's story, which I've been jotting down for a couple years just to understand Maggie and her past, the white and green is 2 out of the 4 of Hallowed, the 4 green with elephants is Boundless, the black and white composition book is--can you guess what that might be? If all goes well you might get to find this out in December or so-- and the top, my new project!!)
So, yay! New project! I have been refraining myself from working on this new book for almost a year now. The story is burning bright in my brain, and I only hope I can get it down fast enough, so it does not burn out before it's all on the page. I have about 50 handwritten pages of notes on the characters and their world so far, just waiting for me to pick it up for serious and draft.
I am so ready! Let the fun writing begin!
July 24, 2012
Endlessly and YA Author Week
Hi, y'all! Today I'm off to do a YA library event and signing with Kiersten White, Marie Lu, and Robin LaFevers! Love those ladies and their books!
Yes, for some reason they put up a copy of my UK Hallowed, but hey, it's all good. If you're coming to Oceanside, see you there at 4pm! Be sure to get a few of my Unearthly temporary tattoos!
Also, big happy book birthday to Endlessly , the amazing and fantastic end to the Paranormalcy trilogy by Kiesten White. I am totally going to give Kiersten a big ol' awkward hug and say congrats! Because it is a great book. I blurbed it, actually. Like this:
“There’s not a character in YA fiction that I enjoy reading more than Evie’s. Endessly had me in its clutches from the first hilarious page to the last breathtaking sentence. A fun, heartfelt, and dynamic ending to a marvelous series.”
So yeah, I dug that book. A lot. Check out the trailer.
Yes, for some reason they put up a copy of my UK Hallowed, but hey, it's all good. If you're coming to Oceanside, see you there at 4pm! Be sure to get a few of my Unearthly temporary tattoos!
Also, big happy book birthday to Endlessly , the amazing and fantastic end to the Paranormalcy trilogy by Kiesten White. I am totally going to give Kiersten a big ol' awkward hug and say congrats! Because it is a great book. I blurbed it, actually. Like this:
“There’s not a character in YA fiction that I enjoy reading more than Evie’s. Endessly had me in its clutches from the first hilarious page to the last breathtaking sentence. A fun, heartfelt, and dynamic ending to a marvelous series.”
So yeah, I dug that book. A lot. Check out the trailer.
July 20, 2012
The Very Busy Spider
Ever so often, I read this book to my son:
It's about a spider building a web.
On every page, a new animal shows up and asks the spider to hang out with it: "'Quack, quack,' said the duck. 'Want to go for a swim?'" But the spider never answers. She is always very busy spinning her web. This goes on and on, page after page, from morning until night, the spider not responding to anybody, just spinning and spinning and spinning, until finally she finishes her web. Then an owl flies by and says, "Who? Who? Who built this beautiful web?" But the spider doesn't answer then, either. She's asleep. "It had been a very, very busy day." And thus ends the book.
I am so totally the spider right now.
(Eric Carle, by the way=genius.)
So. I have turned in the next round of revisions for BOUNDLESS. Over the past several weeks many, many people have tried to get my attention, and I have not responded. So sorry for that, people. I was very busy spinning my web.
Revisions are usually tough and slow for me, but THIS revision. Oh dear Lord. So many threads. So many characters and their arcs. So much to set up. There were days a pesky fly flew into my web and thrashed it to shreds. There were days when I was inexorably trapped in the web and I started to feel suspiciously like the pesky fly. There were days I honestly considered whether this web-spinning thing was a healthy career decision.
I drank a lot of iced tea. Which helped me stay up into the wee cool hours of the morning when the house was quiet and I could think. And then I would lie in bed later trying to turn off my brain, which insisted on revising my book, even when I'd clearly told it to stop. Even in my sleep, I revised. I often woke with a dull headache and the sense that I had been working all night.
I am a morning person, by the way. I suck as a night owl.
I am, quite frankly, exhausted.
Stay tuned for the Grouchy Ladybug, is what I'm saying. . .
But, at least for now, it's turned in. I am finally free to work on a new project. (and possibly a new, NEW project that is Unearthly-related. I shall tell you when I know. . .) And this is great. I have been wanting to work on my new project for almost a year, and I can't wait to really dig into it.
Tonight my husband came into my office to warn me about a spider on the back patio, who was building an enormous web. My husband thought it would be, er, icky, if I walked into that web on my way to water the lawn in the morning.
"He's out there now, building it?" I asked. For some reason I think of this spider as a he. Don't ask me why.
Yes, he was.
I went out on the patio and located said spider-and-web. My husband was right; it's a big web. The supports easily stretch across a ten-foot space, with the center positioned to intercept any unlucky bug who happens to make a suicide-run for the porch light. (Well played, spider. Well played.)
I've seen this spider before. He's a very large orange and black orb weaver, with stripey legs exactly like in the Eric Carle book. I have resisted the temptation to squash him, because he eats many bugs, and he's not doing any harm or trying to get in the house to bite my babies. He's a good spider, and I have just read Charlotte's Web to my son and James and The Giant Peach and I am supposed to be okay with good spiders. (Embarrassing side note: someone recently asked my son about reading Charlotte's Web. He said he never wanted to read it again. Because it -and I quote- "makes Mommy cry like crazy." Seriously, though. Those last lines: "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and good writer. Charlotte was both." I could start sobbing right now. . .)
Ahem. So back to the patio spider. I haven't ever seen a spider building its web before, not in real life, anyway. So I stood there for a good twenty minutes and watched as the little guy worked to fill in the web. Around and around and around he went, the glossy threads occasionally catching the light. And I noticed one thing right off:
Part of the web is easy for the spider. Starting from the bottom left, he just cruises along, goes a little bit, secures the thread to the support, spins a bit more, secures, climbs the left side, secures the line, goes across the top, spins, secures, spins, secures. No problem, right?
Until he hits the top right, and he has to go down.
Then the spider falls out of his rhythm, he wobbles, the entire web dangles unsteadily as he lowers himself, secures the line, twists and waves his legs frantically and looks all kinds of unbalanced, then finally reaches the bottom and hiccups across two more anchors before he finds his groove again.
Every single time.
I can practically hear the little guy cussing: "Oh for $%^&&**$*!!!! This stupid #$^*&#$&!!! web!!!!" And toward the end there he was looking so very tired. Like, "Please, please, can't this web be finished now? Pant, pant. I need a vacation." But on he went, until the web was done. I wish I could have taken a picture of it for you, but it would not show up with my camera. Trust me, it was glorious.
It made me smile. Because I am so totally that spider.
This web building stuff is HARD. Even for spiders. And they were made to spin.
(This web is a fair approximation of what both my spider's web and BOUNDLESS look like right now. . .)
Join me tomorrow morning where I forget about the web and walk right into it on my way to water the lawn and run around screaming and swiping at myself. Because that's going to be fun.
It's about a spider building a web. On every page, a new animal shows up and asks the spider to hang out with it: "'Quack, quack,' said the duck. 'Want to go for a swim?'" But the spider never answers. She is always very busy spinning her web. This goes on and on, page after page, from morning until night, the spider not responding to anybody, just spinning and spinning and spinning, until finally she finishes her web. Then an owl flies by and says, "Who? Who? Who built this beautiful web?" But the spider doesn't answer then, either. She's asleep. "It had been a very, very busy day." And thus ends the book.
I am so totally the spider right now.
(Eric Carle, by the way=genius.)
So. I have turned in the next round of revisions for BOUNDLESS. Over the past several weeks many, many people have tried to get my attention, and I have not responded. So sorry for that, people. I was very busy spinning my web.
Revisions are usually tough and slow for me, but THIS revision. Oh dear Lord. So many threads. So many characters and their arcs. So much to set up. There were days a pesky fly flew into my web and thrashed it to shreds. There were days when I was inexorably trapped in the web and I started to feel suspiciously like the pesky fly. There were days I honestly considered whether this web-spinning thing was a healthy career decision.
I drank a lot of iced tea. Which helped me stay up into the wee cool hours of the morning when the house was quiet and I could think. And then I would lie in bed later trying to turn off my brain, which insisted on revising my book, even when I'd clearly told it to stop. Even in my sleep, I revised. I often woke with a dull headache and the sense that I had been working all night.
I am a morning person, by the way. I suck as a night owl.
I am, quite frankly, exhausted.
Stay tuned for the Grouchy Ladybug, is what I'm saying. . .
But, at least for now, it's turned in. I am finally free to work on a new project. (and possibly a new, NEW project that is Unearthly-related. I shall tell you when I know. . .) And this is great. I have been wanting to work on my new project for almost a year, and I can't wait to really dig into it.
Tonight my husband came into my office to warn me about a spider on the back patio, who was building an enormous web. My husband thought it would be, er, icky, if I walked into that web on my way to water the lawn in the morning.
"He's out there now, building it?" I asked. For some reason I think of this spider as a he. Don't ask me why.
Yes, he was.
I went out on the patio and located said spider-and-web. My husband was right; it's a big web. The supports easily stretch across a ten-foot space, with the center positioned to intercept any unlucky bug who happens to make a suicide-run for the porch light. (Well played, spider. Well played.)
I've seen this spider before. He's a very large orange and black orb weaver, with stripey legs exactly like in the Eric Carle book. I have resisted the temptation to squash him, because he eats many bugs, and he's not doing any harm or trying to get in the house to bite my babies. He's a good spider, and I have just read Charlotte's Web to my son and James and The Giant Peach and I am supposed to be okay with good spiders. (Embarrassing side note: someone recently asked my son about reading Charlotte's Web. He said he never wanted to read it again. Because it -and I quote- "makes Mommy cry like crazy." Seriously, though. Those last lines: "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and good writer. Charlotte was both." I could start sobbing right now. . .)
Ahem. So back to the patio spider. I haven't ever seen a spider building its web before, not in real life, anyway. So I stood there for a good twenty minutes and watched as the little guy worked to fill in the web. Around and around and around he went, the glossy threads occasionally catching the light. And I noticed one thing right off:
Part of the web is easy for the spider. Starting from the bottom left, he just cruises along, goes a little bit, secures the thread to the support, spins a bit more, secures, climbs the left side, secures the line, goes across the top, spins, secures, spins, secures. No problem, right?
Until he hits the top right, and he has to go down.
Then the spider falls out of his rhythm, he wobbles, the entire web dangles unsteadily as he lowers himself, secures the line, twists and waves his legs frantically and looks all kinds of unbalanced, then finally reaches the bottom and hiccups across two more anchors before he finds his groove again.
Every single time.
I can practically hear the little guy cussing: "Oh for $%^&&**$*!!!! This stupid #$^*&#$&!!! web!!!!" And toward the end there he was looking so very tired. Like, "Please, please, can't this web be finished now? Pant, pant. I need a vacation." But on he went, until the web was done. I wish I could have taken a picture of it for you, but it would not show up with my camera. Trust me, it was glorious.
It made me smile. Because I am so totally that spider.
This web building stuff is HARD. Even for spiders. And they were made to spin.
(This web is a fair approximation of what both my spider's web and BOUNDLESS look like right now. . .)Join me tomorrow morning where I forget about the web and walk right into it on my way to water the lawn and run around screaming and swiping at myself. Because that's going to be fun.
July 13, 2012
Fancy New Blog
I'm still in the cave feverishly working on revisions for Boundless, but I wanted to stick my head out for five minutes to tell you that I have a new and improved blog / website. The biggest additions are the left-hand sidebar, where I have the foreign covers of my books linked to the publishers' websites. At the bottom are countries where the rights are sold, but no book has been published yet. I think. And I've moved the right-hand sidebar up to my fancy new events tab.
You will notice that I have a new event coming up:
July 24, 2012, 6pm, at the Oceanside Barnes and Noble with Kiersten White, Marie Lu, and Robin La Fevers, all of whom I adore. (Okay, technically I haven't met Robin yet, but I adore Grave Mercy, so I am pretty darn likely to adore Robin as well.)
I will be there with bells.
Also, for those of you who haven't seen it on my Facebook/Twitter feed, I thought I would toss you a crumb. Below is a picture of my research board for Boundless. There's a lot of stuff on there you won't understand, some clues, perhaps. Closer to the release I will be sure to make a video where I walk you through the board and all its many wonderful parts.
Now back to revising.
You will notice that I have a new event coming up:
July 24, 2012, 6pm, at the Oceanside Barnes and Noble with Kiersten White, Marie Lu, and Robin La Fevers, all of whom I adore. (Okay, technically I haven't met Robin yet, but I adore Grave Mercy, so I am pretty darn likely to adore Robin as well.)
I will be there with bells.
Also, for those of you who haven't seen it on my Facebook/Twitter feed, I thought I would toss you a crumb. Below is a picture of my research board for Boundless. There's a lot of stuff on there you won't understand, some clues, perhaps. Closer to the release I will be sure to make a video where I walk you through the board and all its many wonderful parts.
Now back to revising.
June 22, 2012
Boundless Cover Reveal
Wow, am I ever excited! My editor has given me the go-ahead to share the cover for BOUNDLESS!!!!
First off, I want to say that this might be my favorite cover out of all of them, and I love all my covers. But this one. . . I love her expression, I love her dress and the way the wind is moving it, I love the lake rocks under her feet, the suggestion of water, the parting of the clouds, and I love the color. It's all LOVELY.
Squee!!!!
Ready to see?
Okay!
.
.
.
Ta-dah!
What do you think?!!!!
And again, in honor of Boundless, I'd like to share another song that I listened to a LOT to get me in the Boundless frame of mind: Human, by Civil Twilight. Let this play and stare at the cover for a minute, I dare you. See if you don't feel what Clara feels. . .
First off, I want to say that this might be my favorite cover out of all of them, and I love all my covers. But this one. . . I love her expression, I love her dress and the way the wind is moving it, I love the lake rocks under her feet, the suggestion of water, the parting of the clouds, and I love the color. It's all LOVELY.
Squee!!!!
Ready to see?
Okay!
.
.
.
Ta-dah!
What do you think?!!!!
And again, in honor of Boundless, I'd like to share another song that I listened to a LOT to get me in the Boundless frame of mind: Human, by Civil Twilight. Let this play and stare at the cover for a minute, I dare you. See if you don't feel what Clara feels. . .
May 29, 2012
Title for Book 3
I've been a bad blogger. People are always asking me how I juggle all the balls in my life: writer, author, mother, wife, professor, blogger, housekeeper, laundress, cook, dishwasher, etc, and my answer is always the same:
I am always dropping one or two of the balls.
Blogging is a ball that's been left on the floor for a while now. I hope to pick it up again soon. Right up there with housekeeping. :)
Right now I'm on the road, a combination research/publicity/family vacation kind of trip. This past week I've been at Stanford, interviewing students and hanging out the way I did with Jackson Hole High School when I was writing Unearthly and Hallowed. I lived near Stanford a few years ago, and worked at the Stanford Cancer Center as a "social science research assistant" for a while there, so it's a pretty familiar place, but let me tell you, going there with the writer's cap on, trying to understand the university the way Clara would see it as an incoming freshman, has been so fun and and the same time overwhelming! Special thanks to Estella Go, especially, for showing me around and answering all my endless questions! You rock!
On Thursday I did a signing at Not Your Mother's Book Club with Brodi Ashton and Bree Despain, which was awesome. I love those ladies. We laughed. A lot. And Brodi occasionally went completely blurry, she's so quick-witted. See, here's the proof. And here's me in my new purple glasses trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about. It was awesome.
Later this week I'm off to The Dalles, Oregon for an awesome event with 11 other writers on June 2. See the sidebar for details.
And then I'm headed to Boise for a couple of days and then to my dad's mountain house to revise Book 3 while my dad takes my son on long tractor rides.
Oh, wait.
I don't have to call it Book 3 anymore.
It has a TITLE.
And I've been given the green light to tell you that title!
So I suppose I should get on with it!
Okay, here's the definition:
adjective
having no bounds; infinite or vast; unlimited: His ******** energy amazed his friends.Synonyms
limitless, endless, unbounded, inexhaustible, illimitable.
Can you guess?
What's that you say? Stop stalling and just tell us? You've been scrolling down frantically ever since you saw the subject line of this post.
Okay, okay.
The title is (deep breath)
...
...
BOUNDLESS
I am so happy with this title. Like all of my titles, I like that it works on multiple levels, each that can be applied to what happens in the book. Because what happens in this book is VAST, people.
Yay titles!
BOUNDLESS is still (fingers crossed) on schedule to be released in January 2013. I know that's a long ways off, but I still need some time to tinker with it.
In honor of this big reveal I also want to share a song that inspired me as I wrote this book.
Sigh. I love this song. When I listen to it I always imagine it being sung to Clara by Christian AND Tucker, alternating with the lyrics.
Here are the words:
I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want's to find an easy way
To get out of our little heads
Have heart, my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Sigh.
Uh oh. The kids are awake now. Time to go.
Oh, but there's one more bit of news:
THE AUDIO FOR HALLOWED IS NOW AVAILABLE. Click here for the Audible.
And now I go back to juggling.
I am always dropping one or two of the balls.
Blogging is a ball that's been left on the floor for a while now. I hope to pick it up again soon. Right up there with housekeeping. :)
Right now I'm on the road, a combination research/publicity/family vacation kind of trip. This past week I've been at Stanford, interviewing students and hanging out the way I did with Jackson Hole High School when I was writing Unearthly and Hallowed. I lived near Stanford a few years ago, and worked at the Stanford Cancer Center as a "social science research assistant" for a while there, so it's a pretty familiar place, but let me tell you, going there with the writer's cap on, trying to understand the university the way Clara would see it as an incoming freshman, has been so fun and and the same time overwhelming! Special thanks to Estella Go, especially, for showing me around and answering all my endless questions! You rock!
On Thursday I did a signing at Not Your Mother's Book Club with Brodi Ashton and Bree Despain, which was awesome. I love those ladies. We laughed. A lot. And Brodi occasionally went completely blurry, she's so quick-witted. See, here's the proof. And here's me in my new purple glasses trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about. It was awesome.
Later this week I'm off to The Dalles, Oregon for an awesome event with 11 other writers on June 2. See the sidebar for details.
And then I'm headed to Boise for a couple of days and then to my dad's mountain house to revise Book 3 while my dad takes my son on long tractor rides.
Oh, wait.
I don't have to call it Book 3 anymore.
It has a TITLE.
And I've been given the green light to tell you that title!
So I suppose I should get on with it!
Okay, here's the definition:
adjective
having no bounds; infinite or vast; unlimited: His ******** energy amazed his friends.Synonyms
limitless, endless, unbounded, inexhaustible, illimitable.
Can you guess?
What's that you say? Stop stalling and just tell us? You've been scrolling down frantically ever since you saw the subject line of this post.
Okay, okay.
The title is (deep breath)
...
...
BOUNDLESS
I am so happy with this title. Like all of my titles, I like that it works on multiple levels, each that can be applied to what happens in the book. Because what happens in this book is VAST, people.
Yay titles!
BOUNDLESS is still (fingers crossed) on schedule to be released in January 2013. I know that's a long ways off, but I still need some time to tinker with it.
In honor of this big reveal I also want to share a song that inspired me as I wrote this book.
Sigh. I love this song. When I listen to it I always imagine it being sung to Clara by Christian AND Tucker, alternating with the lyrics.
Here are the words:
I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want's to find an easy way
To get out of our little heads
Have heart, my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess
Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
Sigh.
Uh oh. The kids are awake now. Time to go.
Oh, but there's one more bit of news:
THE AUDIO FOR HALLOWED IS NOW AVAILABLE. Click here for the Audible.
And now I go back to juggling.
