Brodi Ashton's Blog, page 10

15 More Days... Launch Parties, Revision Woes, and the need for Burned Flesh Factoids

So, I have a revision deadline for the latest version of EVERNEATH 2: It's Everneath-ier on Wednesday. 





This means I'm going through the draft right now, and coming across highlighted words. Stuff I didn't want to figure out right then, but needed to come back to later.





Sometimes I'd be in the middle of a really tense scene, or even worse, a romantic scene, and I'd turn the page only to find this:





blah blah blah... leading up to big kiss *smooch* 





Here are examples of my favorite highlighted reminders:





Blah blah blah... add description (Yeah, this one comes up about once a page)





------- word for hand thingee? -------(I don't know, could it be a glove?)





------ word for leather thing that can old a knife? ------ (Okay, obviously the word "sheath" wasn't coming to me)





------ do "concentric" circles go outward or inward?---------





what else can he do with his hand, besides run through hair?  (I ask myself this question every day. *she said as she ran her fingers through her hair)





-----need transition here: Aaaaaaannnnnnnndddddd... scene!-------------





--- note: what does burned hair smell like?-----





--- note: if you tear off sleeve, will burned flesh come with it? -------





And my personal favorite:





--- say it again, but better---





EVERNEATH comes out in 15 days. The launch party will be at The King's English bookshop in the 15th and 15th area of Salt Lake City. 





When: Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

Where: King's English 

Time: 7:00 p.m.

Treats?: Of course





Everyone is invited, so mark it down on your calendars so I don't look like an idiot up there at the microphone, speaking to an audience of Sam and my mom. 





I practiced my speech on Sam the other night. He had one thing to say:





"I'm not sure it's appropriate to talk about your hatred for faulty epidurals in your book launch speech. In fact, we could probably leave Kid C's birth story out."





Looks like it's back to the drawing board.





So, who's coming to the launch party? And who can answer the question about the burned skin? 

The TOP TEN things my kid says to me to keep me grounded

The other day, I did a TOP TEN list on Twitter, and I got a couple requests to do it as a blog post, because of all the people not on the twitter. (I'm looking at you, Dorien). 





So, since I have a book coming out in 17 days (17 DAYS!!), sometimes my head is in the clouds. Below, I present to you the TOP TEN THINGS MY KID SAYS TO ME TO KEEP ME GROUNDED:





#10 "Percy Jackson already did mythology, and he's a BOY."





#9 "Please don't show your cover to my friends. It's embarrassing."





#8 Me: "I'm going to be in Wal-Mart!" Kid C (shrugging): "I'm in Wal-Mart at least once a week."





#7 "Mom, do you know any REAL authors? Because my teacher needs one to talk to her class."





#6 "Why did you have to write a book about... LOVE?" (Followed by melodramatic gagging sounds)





#5 "Wouldn't it be cool if Nikki ate Jack's BRAINS?! (Yes, he's into Zombies)





#4 (Looking at my cover): "That's a weird looking dude." me: "Um, that's a girl." Him (turning cover upside down): "Oh. I get it." me: "???"





#3 When a friend asked him what my book was about: "Um... Monsters. And dragons. And people who eat BRAINS!" There are none of these things. 





#2 (looking at finished copy) "What, they only made it out of paper?" Tosses it onto floor. me: "Yes, they cancelled the gold leaf printing." 





And the number one thing my kid says to keep me grounded: "WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE R.L. STINE?" 





If you're a writer, what do your kids say to you? 





If you're not a writer... whatcha up to this weekend? 

I'm trying to get to my To-Do list, but where am I supposed to find the sand for the Sandcastles?

Hey y'all. There is so much to talk about today! 





First off, I was interviewed by Captain Jack Sparrow over on C.J. Redwine's blog. She is truly hilarious, and you can check it out here.





Next up, the Pitch Dark Facebook Page has the first 72 pages of EVERNEATH up. So if you can't wait until January 24th to start the book, head on over! 





So, I don't know if you noticed, but EVERNEATH comes out in 19 days. 19 DAYS!! 





The other day, I came home to find this on my doorstep:





My niece, M+M, made me a paper chain countdown for the launch date. Isn't that so great? Especially for me, because I have a very hard time counting backward from such large numbers like 19.





Each chain has a quote on it from the book:





So I thought it would be fun to share these quotes as I rip off the chains each day. If you want to follow along, look for me on Facebook or Twitter.





And finally, if you have an interview/swag/giveaway request in to me on my emails, I'm trying to get to them all. Really trying. But yesterday I did four interviews, and then I got eight more requests, so I'm convinced that completing interviews only leads to more, exponentially, and it's very hard. Please be patient, and if I haven't answered you and I was supposed to answer you, send me a reminder. 





Because look at my to-do list:





I'm not sure why I have to do these things, but they are on a list, and that means I'm going to do them! Excuse me while I step outside momentarily to Trust the Universe. 





You may also do this to-do list, if you're bored. I'm particularly eager to FIND OUT HOW THINGS WORK.





With that in mind, I'm off to dismantle my computer. Wish me luck!

Why I'm Hugging my Mail Today... Because it took Years to get Here

Guess what I got in the mail today? 

This little beauty:

An actual hardcover from the first printing of EVERNEATH.

And just like any newborn, it has a spine. 

I actually got two copies. Sam said we should keep one of them exactly like it is, and not besmirch it with my signature. Thanks, Sam. I would hate to ruin it by writing my name in it. 

Here's the truth:When I opened the package from HarperCollins, I just sat there in my study for about half an hour, staring at the book. I thought about the journey to get to this point, the culmination of factors both in and out of my control, the multitude of people who contributed to this little clump of bound pages. 

There's not enough room on the spine to list them all, but there should be! And those names deserve to be there, mostly because I just spelled "should" as "shood" and my book would've been full of "shood"s without a giant team backing me up. 

I tried to get all eloquent about the monumental effort that this book symbolizes, but then I realized the book is the perfect size and shape to make it very huggable, and so I shall forget the big words and sentiments, and I'll just hug it for a little while.

While I'm at it, let me just say a big thank you to all y'all who have been reading this blog, and taking this journey with me. I love everybody today. 

World-Building: When You're Missing the Essential World-Building Bone in your Body

So, I'm under deadline. I know it seems like I was just under deadline, and that's because I was. 





For those of you who don't know, I'm revising EVERNEATH 2: It's Everneath-ier. This time around, we are focusing on world-building. 





And let me tell you something right now: I was born without the world-building bone in my elbow. Doctors were amazed; they would take my x-rays around and show other doctors, and remark, "This little baby is going to have a helluva time trying to build a world that's not exactly like the one we live on."





Most of my world-building looks like this:





Okay, so lets take a planet:







Now we have to ask ourselves, where will the people live?





Let's add some land:





Good. Now, how will life grow? What will the people drink?





Let's add some water. 





And... oh crap. I've made Earth. AGAIN! 





Then I crumble up the paper and throw it away and start over. 





I was supposed to world-build in the last round of edits, but instead I threw in some razzle-dazzle. I gave my editor the old flim-flam-flummox, then I dazed and dizzied her, because how could she see that I couldn't world build when she had sequins in her eyes?





As a final number, I threw in a tap dance. 









But the thing is, I can't tap dance, and my editor could see just fine with the sequins in her eyes, and she still said, "Hey, how about we world-build a little?"





Then I tried to explain to her about my unique anatomy:



But she was not impressed. Apparently, she thinks I can do this. 



So, yon bloggerville, I think I can do this too. 





But just in case, does anyone know what the Underworld looks like? Anyone at all? Geography and demography would be great. And for heaven's sake, do not let it resemble Earth!

My Adventure in Houston, and Bringing my Dad Home for Christmas

Hi Everyone!

I hope y'all are enjoying the holidays. It's been a while for me on the blog, I know, but the holidays and my dad's health have definitely had me hopping.

And by hopping, I mean stressing. And by stressing, I mean tearing my hair out, strand by strand, follicle by follicle, until I accumulated enough to knit myself a pair of matching throw pillows for my couch.

Here's a recap:

A couple weeks ago, we landed in Houston because my dad had landed in the ICU there at MD Anderson.

We found him like this:







That picture is deceiving. He's not really giving the "Thumbs up" sign, nor is he saying, "Turn up the gas!" He's actually saying, "Get this contraption off of me, or I will take these thumbs and use them to gouge your eyes out."





He is a very stubborn man. But we needed to get him out of the ICU, in order for him to continue getting his radiation treatment, and get him home for Christmas.





So my mom and my sister and I made a bunch of goals, and stuck them to the television.









If you blow up the picture, you can see that yes, Diet Coke is considered a solid food, and by exercising, we mean cage fighting. We wanted to make the goals as realistic as possible.





The following day, we got to rip off the goal of "Clear chest x-ray," because take a look at that beautiful x-ray on the left.





The one on the right was the day before, and you can tell it is cloudy with fluid. But the one on the left... brilliantly black.





The smiling nurse is Justin. He was very happy to pose for our multitude of pictures, but he drew the line at climbing in the cage with my dad for a fight to the death. He's getting married in a few months, so I understand his hesitation.





A couple days later, we were able to ditch the flattering yellow garb and take my dad for a walk on the observation deck of the hospital, and we got to rip down the goal of "Overcome Vertigo."









Once he was out of the ICU, we made great strides. He even got to wear actual clothes again.



Last week, against all the odds, he was able to continue with his radiation treatments, complete the round, and return home to us just in time for Christmas.

I'd like to take full credit for his recovery, but the honest truth is it was all him. I couldn't have asked for a better present. 

May your own holidays be excellent, and your chest x-rays clear!

Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!

Houston, we had a problem...but things are looking better

This is Sam, Brodi's lovely husband.  Brodi is down in Houston, Texas (can I get a Yeehaw? or a y'all?) with her sister and her mom.  Her dad is at MD Anderson Cancer Center.  He has been there for the past week or two getting some awesome radiation treatment.  But, he had a bad spell and some bad luck and has been in the ICU for the past week.















The good news is that he is doing much better now than he was doing earlier this week.  We are keeping prayers, fingers crossed, etc. as he enters this weekend.  The pic above are DEMANDS by Brodi, her sister and her mom for her dad.  They will accept nothing less.  And so far, he is listening to their demands - you don't mess with 3 'blonde' women who have their minds made up.   The plan now is that her dad will continue to feel better this weekend and and then get some treatment that was in the middle of before his setback, and come home next week.  It would be a very nice Christmas gift to everyone if that were to happen.







First off - there is no reason for the pic above except I put it there because it is awesome.  With Brodi gone, I am trying to make sure that I don't go insane.  For all of you single parents out there...my San Francisco baseball hat is tipped to you.  This week has been work, running kids to school, soccer practices, scouts, haircuts, birthday parties, skiing, work, trying to clean the house, homework and regular work once again.  I think I have lost my wallet or phone 19 times in the past 3 days.  Somehow I am able to find them every single time.  But I have probably wasted 7 hours looking for those stupid little things.  I have also been able to witness some great conversations between our boys, such as "Do you know that 95% of kids do not get enough whole grain?'  Kid C told this to Kid B.  Kid B gave him a look that said, 'Seriously, you think I care about that. Seriously?' 





Today is also Kid C's birthday, so we had an early breakfast at McDonalds (breakfast of champions, pic on the right...if you look hard enough, you will see a load of fruits and vegetables - I think they are right under the sausage egg mcmuffin wrapper) and then a birthday party at his school.  After school, he is headed up to go skiing.  After skiing, we are going out to eat at Chuck-a-rama (his choice) or get Hot wings (my choice) and then a Utah Utes basketball game.  So, yes, we will be busy.  My birthday gift to Kid C is to teach him how to smile like a regular kid.  Hope you all have big plans for the weekend.  Brodi should be back in the blogging saddle on Monday.

A Very Yoshi Christmas

So, Kid B was in charge of decorating the Christmas tree this year. When he was finished, I walked into the living room to see this:



Yep, that there is Giant Green Yoshi, with Small Red Yoshi. And apparently, they've been catapulted onto the tree, and impaled in its branches. Doesn't he look so comfortable? 

Kid B is available as a Decorator-for-Hire. He can Yosherize any tree. Anywhere. Anytime.

And the ornament isn't without its symbolic meaning. Don't you remember when the sheep, and the oxen, and the winged baby dragons bowed their head before the manger? If not, that makes me wonder which version of the bible you are reading. We, of course, read King Koopa's Bible. I don't want to give any spoilers for those of you who haven't read it. 

But the butler did it. 

How are your holidays coming along? We are steamrolling ahead toward Christmas, flattening any and all elves who get in our way.

I Found a Treasure I'd Been Searching for for SIX YEARS.

Six years ago, while we were preparing to leave on a trip, my hubs hid the jewelry box containing my wedding ring. 

He was concerned that if someone broke into our house, my ring would be the first thing to go. 

Why wasn't I wearing it, you ask? That is a discussion for another time. But basically, it boils down to this: I never wear it, because I have a habit of taking it off and leaving it places like bathroom sinks and restaurants and bowling alleys.

You see, I would hate to lose it.

Anywho, we got back from our trip, and since I never wore my ring, there was no reason to get it out of its hiding place. 

Fast forward six years. We have since remodeled the kitchen, and a good portion of our house. We have since had another kid. And Sam totally forgot where he hid the ring. You'd think that at some point, during a spring cleaning session, or one of our kajillion garage sails, we would've come across the jewelry box. 

But it didn't happen. 

Finally, two days ago, Sam was rummaging through some sort of closet and found the jewelry box. Yay! 



I'm not sure what this says about us, on several levels. 

1. How much do my housecleaning skills suck if we never ran across it for six years? 

2. There is a cheerio in the corner of my kitchen floor that I've been able to keep track of for three years. Why couldn't I keep track of my wedding ring?

3. If someone did break into our house, I don't think his first thought would be, "I wonder where the wife keeps her wedding ring." It would more likely be, "Why does this family keep their flat screen under this big pile of Cap'n Crunch?" or "I'd steal the laptop, but my path is blocked by this pile of laundry... and wait... why have half of the keys on the keyboard been replaced with various incarnations of Spongebob Macaroni and Cheese noodles?"

4. Then we'd be featured on that new reality show "When Burglars Stage a Hoarders Intervention instead of actually Burgling the House."

5. I don't know why I'm suddenly numbering everything on this blog post.

6. But Six seems like a good round number to end on.

So... what's everyone up to this weekend? Sam and Kid C are taking ski lessons. Boy would I love to be a fly on that mountain.

Why I wanted to punch my Hubs... No Seriously.

Sorry so late with the blog. I spent the first half of the day with no internet. Now I completely know how the pioneers felt. 

Kidding.

Anywho, my brain no longer works right, so Sam has to remind me about things like appointments and parties and stuff. Last Friday, Sam's all, "Kid C's first school ski day is today!"

And I'm all, "What?!"

Sam: "Yeah, he needs gear. GEAR! Lots of gear that starts with the letter 'G' like Goggles and Gloves, and a Gator! And he has to be to this other school parking lot [not our own school, but another school] because if he's not there on time the bus will leave without him!"

So I ran around to a bunch of different places and bought the first goggles they showed me because I didn't have time to price-shop. 

I picked Kid C up from school, ran home and changed him. It was like a fire drill at the local station. I'm all, "Strip! STRIP!! Now put these on. No! On your head! Does it look like Goggles go on your feet?!"

Sweats, check.

Pants check.

two long sleeve t-shirts, check.

Ski Jacket, check. Gloves, check. Gator, check. Goggles, check. Hat, check. 

Kid C was very nervous. He asked if there would be bullies on the bus. He insisted on wearing every article of ski gear, even though he still had a long bus ride, and even though it was like 65 degrees outside.

65 degrees. 

But he didn't want to stand out because he wasn't sure how to put his gloves and goggles and stuff on. 

So, I race him to the other school, and we wait. 

That was how he looked as the final bell rang, and the entire school came out, filing past him and giving him strange looks. You can see the boy behind him is in simply a t-shirt and jeans, and here's kid C wearing every article of ski gear possible. 

And we wait.

And wait. 

And wait. 

I call Sam. "Are you sure we're at the right school?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I've never been surer about anything in my life!"

me: "Are you sure it's today?"

Sam: "Yes! I'm even more sure that it's today than I am that you're at the right school!"

We wait. 

And wait. 

No other skiers show up. But plenty of carpool moms drove by the poor snow boy, looking at me like I'm crazy because it's sunny and warm. 

Then my phone rings. It's Sam. "Um... looking at the fine print here... and it seems... the ski program starts next week. 



Who wants to break the news to Shaun White here?
So I'm all, "Hey Kid C. Congratulations! You passed the test. I just wanted to make sure it was possible to make it here on time, with you in your complete ski gear. And look! You did it!"

He gave me a look. (I could only see so much of it through his goggles). Then he turned around, slumped his shoulders and clomped his way back to the car. 

This is my life lately. What about you?