Brodi Ashton's Blog, page 19

Sweating out a Sequel: Sometimes your MC gives you the Bird

Howdy, y'all. 





Remember, tomorrow is the deadline for those of you who joined in the Chimichanga Challenge. 





I am currently at just over 22,000 words for my sequel. I don't think I'm going to make it to 40,000 by tomorrow, but that's okay. It's a heckuva lot more than I would have written otherwise!





The truth is, I'm feeling a little bit of deadline pressure. The end of school for my kids -- and therefore, the end of free writing days -- is looming like a dark bulbous cloud over the horizon. 





I think my stress is manifesting itself in my writing. Currently, in my sequel, I'm stuck in this one scene where the three main characters are sitting around, staring blankly, with nothing to say to each other.





I've been on this scene for a few days now. Once, a famous writer said, if you're stuck, put your main character up in a tree, and have the others throw rocks at her. I tried that. But the others couldn't be bothered to go searching for rocks, and my Main Character just built herself a hammock in that tree, and is now taking a leisurely snooze. 





I'm at that 22,000 word mark, which is the notorious Point-o-Desperation for the writer. I have thoughts like:





-I'm never going to finish. Books are really really long! Maybe the sequel could be told better in picture-book form. 





-My characters are protesting the lack of progression at this point. They are building hammocks in trees and refusing to cooperate.





-How did I ever finish a book in the first place?





-I'll never be able to finish a book again. That first one was a fluke. It basically wrote itself. (I liken this notion to having a baby, and when looking back on it, forgetting how much it really hurts.)





-I think my MC just gave me the bird.





I'm too easily distracted...





-That wall looks smudgy. Maybe I should clean all the walls.





-It's raining. I long to feel the rain on my face! Time to go outside... Oh wait. It's sunny. I long to feel the sun on my face! Time to go outside.... Lightning? It's been a while since I've been struck by it. Maybe I'll venture outside.





-Oh yay! The Mailman's here! So long, suckahs!





-Meet you for lunch? Sure! I'd never turn down lunch. Even writers have to eat, right? 





-Two  lunches? In one day? I'm in!





-Watching Dr. Who isn't procrastinating. It's research. 





-I have to blog first. I can't let my blog readers down. They depend on me!





-It's been years since I've picked my nose. I wonder what's been going on in there? I better find out...





Yeah, any distraction will do. So I'm making a promise, here and now. I will not be distracted any more. I will not let these things get in the way of writing. I will throw my own rocks at my MC, no matter how many times she flips me off. I will not go to lunch more than four times a week. 





Most of all, I will finish this book before June 4. If I don't, you can stick me in a tree and take turns throwing rocks at me. 





Thanks for listening.



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A List! Including: My New Car, Where Comfort is an Option... And Sam Destroys the Indestructible Miracle Blade

Hey y'all!

Happy Friday.

First off, Chersti Nieveen interviewed me on her blog for Utah Author's Month. Please go visit, and leave a comment! I don't want her viewership to go down just because I'm on there.

For today, a list!

1. So, I finally bought a new car. The best thing about it? The car has a special - nay, magical - button. Check it out.



Yep. That there is a "comfort" button.



Has there ever been anything so wonderful? 

I want to know how this button came about. Were the car makers all, "Let's be the first guys to make 'comfort' an option. Not mandatory. We'll be rich!"

When I first got in the car to test drive it, the button was not depressed. I had to wonder, who wouldn't press the button? Maybe someone who had it all, and was like, "I want to see how the uncomfortable people live. Jeeves! Un-press the button!"

There are definitely times I get in the car, and I think to myself, "You know, life has been a little easy lately. Comfort, off!"

Sometimes I threaten the kids: "Stop fighting, or you know that comfort you've been enjoying? Consider it gone!"

2. It's Mother's Day this weekend. Time for really bad art from my kids.Here's a preview: Kid C made a card for me, and drew a picture of the two of us together. 

Me, Kid C
Emily Wing Smith was right- I do look the same in every picture. Kid C definitely gets his drawing skills from me. Lately, he's been asking if he can illustrate my next book. 

Judging from this picture, that would be totally awesome. 

3. The other day, Sam was baking buffalo wings, and when he removed the tray from the oven, underneath the tin foil he found this:



That would be our kitchen scissors and a steak knife, melted together, and flat as a crepe. 

I sent the picture to Miracle Blade, along with the note, "I thought your knives were supposed to be indestructible, but apparently they can't withstand 450 degrees for 15-18 minutes. Put that in your infomercial!"

I want to know how Sam took the cookie sheet out of the cupboard, put the knife and scissors on top of it, then placed a sheet of tin foil over the whole thing, and then put two rows of frozen buffalo wings on top of that... and didn't notice!

It's not like they blended in with the background. You really can't get more neon-red than those scissors. And when he was carefully placing the wings on top, was there ever a moment where he thought, "Hey, the wings seem to be pooling on either side of this giant bump in the middle. That's weird."

It's probably an air bubble.

Oh, nope. It's scissors and a steak knife.

So, what are y'all up to this weekend? Any special Mother's Day plans? Have you commented on Chersti's blog? Anyone else ever bake a pair of scissors with a side of steak knife?

When you can't write, just type... and Favorite Lines from the sequel to EVERNEATH

Hey y'all. It's time for a...





Chimichanga Challenge Update:





Team Tamale: 11,845 words (out of 40,000)

Team Gluten-Intolerant: Disneyland (out of 40,000)





Yep, Bree Despain is in Disneyland. So let me just say right now, what were we smoking when we said 40,000 words?





But the contest has kick-started me into the second book. Most authors I know warned me that writing a second book, under contract, under deadline, would be much harder than writing the first.





Now I know what they mean. This second book has been the naughty child. It's shy, stubborn, and it gives me the silent treatment. I kept trying to coax the story out of its bedroom, but most of these attempts ended in a door slammed in my face.





So I sort of just ignored it. But here's something I learned... something we should print on a bumper sticker or something:





The book won't get written if you ignore it.





Catchy, isn't it? Even more simply put: It won't get written if you don't write it.





I know it seems obvious, but it's so easy to forget. If you're like me, you like for your inspiration to hit first, and then the writing comes. But sometimes, you have to write first.





And that's when the writing can be painful... like I have to quite literally take my hand, shove it up my nose, dig around in my brain for the right words, and then yank them out, covered in cerebral goo.





Sometimes you have to forget about the writing and focus on the typing. Just type. Type as many words as you can in an hour.





And through this random typing, I discovered a few scenes I wasn't expecting. I love these scenes. But it took a lot of bad typing, and bad words, to get there.





Just for fun, I thought I'd share some of my favorite lines from EVERNEATH 2. I know they are out of context, but hopefully you'll enjoy them. (I shared a few on Twitter last week).





"Aren't you the least bit curious about how I got you into bed last night?"





"You haven't changed a bit. No 'how do you do?' no talk of the weather. Just a good swift kick to the groin."





"I couldn't help but notice you confiscated a clump of my hair last night."

"What was your first clue?"

"The ripping pain at my temple."





"Sorry, but the vomit spewing from your mouth drowned out that last word. What were you going to do?"







"I hope you realize, if you forget him... he WILL die. You know this, right? Tell me you know this."

Okay, I don't know if those will even be interesting when they're so out of context. Most of them are spoken by the same character. (A character I have grown to love. Obsessively). 

If you're ever stuck on writing, try typing. I promise it will get better. 

What do y'all do when you're stuck? And do you like the lines? And if you're in the Chimichanga Challenge, what's your word count?

Questions from an Eight Year Old about Bin Laden: aka Why I'm tongue tied.

This morning, I talked to Kid C about what happened on September 11, 2001, and then I told him about Bin Laden getting killed, and that this was a historical day.  He's trying his hardest to comprehend it all, and he's asking me some tough questions.

"Killing is bad right? Then why are we cheering?"

"Doesn't he have a family who will miss him?"

"Is Bin Laden going to Heaven? Then where is he going?"

"Why does he hate us? He doesn't even know me. Would he be happy if I died?" 

"Did Jesus want him dead?"

"Do you think they killed him with a knife or a gun? Which would hurt more?" (His bet was a knife)."Didn't he have a shield?"

And finally...

"Brodi, what's a double tap?"

And then, as he's trying to figure out how he's supposed to feel, he's all, "So it's okay to celebrate, but not to party."

That's as good a plan as anything I've got.

Anyone have any answers?  All I know is I was relieved when it was time to go to school.

So, where were you on September 11? 

Sam and I were packing our bags for graduate school in London. We had plane tickets for September 12. Needless to say, our flight was postponed.

The Debut of our Cover Band, The Barely Manilows... with video.

Some people didn't think it would happen.

Some people thought I was only kidding.

Some people thought that we would suck.

Well, 2 out of the above 3 people were wrong. I wasn't kidding. It did happen.

Our critique group The Barely Manilows (More commonly known as The SIX) sang at the launch party for the awesome Emily Wing Smith and her new book BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE.

And while we originally threatened that anyone caught filming the catastrophe, I mean, performance, would lose a pinkie finger, we have since embraced the fact that we have no control over the interwebz. So now, we would like it to go the way of a virus.  In the video, from right to left: Bree Despain on maracas, Kimberly Webb Reid on the Triangle, Sara Bolton on Bass Vocals, Emily Wing Smith on Castanets, Valynne Maetani Nagamatsu on weird jingle bell thingee with a long red stick... and finally, that's me on the keyboard.

I tried to get a keytar, but apparently it's not 1986. Oh well.

Enjoy. (The lyrics are below for your amusement. Just follow the bouncing ego.)





Her name was Joy, andShe was dumped by Zanhe liked to wear his grandpa's shoesAnd he left her with the blues

But she was cluelessWhy he liked her lessAnd while she tried to heal her heart,Noah Liked her from afarAnd then on beverage nightHe liked to drink his Sprite

They were young and they fought each otherWho could ask for more

At the HavenMormon town, HavenThe dullest spot north of the borderAt the HavenMormon town HavenMusic and Passion were never the fashion at the Haven....They weren't in love

So joy and noahthey took a road tripso she could stalk Zan like a foolAnd surprise him at his schoolBut there's this detourThey're stuck in VegasAnd while his car is getting fixed, then their feelings get all mixedAnd all you need to knowThere's Barry ManilowAnd the rest you can read within the pages of the book

At King's EnglishYou can buy copiesThey'll even print you out a receiptAt King's EnglishThe Great King's EnglishReading and Passion are always the FashionAt King's English...Go Buy the book.

Thanks to Jenni Elyse for taking and uploading the video.  And now, as to the comments, please be kind. :)

Why Novel Writers Should Never Write Lyrics... and the Real Story Behind Copacabana

So, we had our first band practice of the Barely Manilows yesterday. Because we're performing at Emily Wing Smith's launch party tomorrow, and we didn't want to wait until the last minute. 

We also wrote new lyrics. I have since decided that writers of novels should never write lyrics. We get caught up in the mechanics. Here are some of the questions we asked while we were writing:

"I know this line makes for a good rhyme, but we haven't properly set up the character's motivation for the action."

"We can't put this here. It's chronologically inconsistent!"

"Too much description!"

"Did you really just try to sneak that -ly adverb in there?"

"Boyfriendless is not a word!"

"This line is, like, the definition of telling and not showing."

I have to say, the original lyrics have their fair share of telling, not showing.

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl

With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there

She would merengue and do the cha-cha

And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar

Across a crowded floor, they worked from 8 till 4

They were young and they had each other

Who could ask for more?

At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana (Copacabana)

The hottest spot north of Havana (here)

At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana

Music and passion were always the fashion

At the Copa....they fell in love



If I were writing the lyrics, I would've gone with something like this:

     "Lola!" The manager had to shout to be heard above the warm-up band. "You're up next!"     "Coming!" Lola called from the dressing room. She glanced in the mirror, pulled her dress down to there and then turned to the girl standing in front of the adjacent mirror. "Hey, Mona. Do you think these yellow feathers in my hair are a bit much?"     The girl studied Lola, tilting her head. "I'm not sure. What are you dancing tonight?"     Lola groaned. "The merengue and the cha-cha. Again."     "Girlfriend, you'll never be a star if you don't switch it up now and then." With that, Mona whipped around - the ruffles from her dress grazing Lola's bare thighs - and exited the room with a flourish.     Lola sighed. I'll be a star in Tony's eyes.     She straightened the feathers in her hair, pulled her dress slightly past there, and made her way through the throng of dancers coming back from their number.      "Hey Lola!" a red-headed dancer said. "Look for the guy in the front row, with the diamond nestled in his hairy chest. He's fast with the tips. And I think he's packing heat!"     "I only have eyes for Tony," Lola responded, despite the thrill of a gun, and the promise of chest hair.     As she stepped out into the club, she looked across the crowded dance floor, to where Tony was wiping down the bar.      He'll make such a good husband, she thought. Provided his temper doesn't get him shot one day. (Foreshadowing. Zing!)     As if he felt her gaze he raised his head, his eyes meeting hers. She pointed to her wrist, and mouthed the words, what time are you off?     He raised four fingers. She should've known. He always worked from eight to four. So late. At least they were young and they had each other. What could go wrong?     She adjusted her dress again - it was always riding up above there - and then she wiped a fresh sheen of sweat off her forehead as she took her place in front of the band.      "It's hot in here tonight," the trumpet player Mark said from behind her.      "I know!" Lola said. "Where are we... Havana or something?"     "Nope. Just north of Havana."

Then: The Chorus.

Sure, the words don't really fit with the music. But isn't that the mark of a true musician? Someone who can write music to fit these words     Fellow band member Valynne made us these band costumes:

I'm not saying the t-shirt company's claim that they are "one-size fits all" is a vicious lie, but I will say Barry's face looks even more distorted than usual when I wear it. 

And, is it meant to be a crop top? 

Emily's launch is tomorrow night at the King's English at 7:00. Let's party. Who's with me? And are there any Barry fans out there?

Chimi-Challenge Update, My Trip Pictures, and My Left Shoe

Chimichanga Challenge Update:





Team Tamale (me): 1,256/40,000 words.





Team Gluten Intolerant (Bree): 17 handwritten pages/40,000 words





I don't know what that translates into, but I think Team GI is ahead. But I have some great news for those of you competing as well: The deadline has been randomly extended to May 10, 2011! That gives us all 4 extra days.





Please give me your totals in the comments if you are joining in the challenge. And if you're not, feel free to trash-talk either team.





On to the blog:





I can sum up our trip to Southern Utah in 9 words:





We hiked:







The gang: looking extra thrilled to be there, and proving that

despite their surroundings, they can still manage to look thoroughly unimpressed.


My bro-in-law Dave, on crutches and still hiking after extensive knee surgery.

My sister calls him "gimpy" and proclaims him to be useless. And that was before the injury.




We rode scooters:



My dad: proving that chemo can't hold him back.


Why drive anywhere when you can scooter?

And may I add that you have to have a surprising amount of butt muscles to scooter, even going downhill.




We dug:



Niece N: Sacrificing her arm and head for the glory of an extra deep hole.




We buried:







Kid B: trying to determine if he is indeed having fun,

considering we kept having to convince him.


Kid C and Niece N: A test run for when they are buried together.




And when the kids acted up, we banished them to the narrows. (We made them watch 127 hours first.)







Scared of tight spaces? Oh yeah, we totally hiked up that crack. IYOE. (Insert Your Own Euphemism)

At least, the kids hiked up it. I ran away screaming like a little girl. I swear that crack gets narrower every year. 






Kid C deep in the narrows. We encouraged him the entire way, and he only believed us for a few minutes when we told him he'd have to cut his arm off to make it through the last bit.


Kid C: This could be you!




Speaking of my awesome sister...

Erin, taking her cue from the English and wearing a wide-brimmed hat.


Erin is known for getting things not quite right, but almost. For instance, when talking about her love for Diet Coke, she said, "I have a wooden leg for that stuff." 

We went to a movie the other day, and on the way home we got talking about Daniel Day Lewis. She's all, "Wasn't he the guy in that Last of the Moccasins movie?"

Yes, Daniel Day Lewis starred in that movie about the day when everyone had to go barefoot in the wilderness because there were no more Moccasins left.

Then she was all, "And didn't he get an award for that other movie? My Left Shoe?"

Totally. He got an award for playing a guy annoyed by his left shoe. "My Left Shoe: The One That Itches."

So, so close. I love her so much. And does she have a hidden shoe fetish I don't know about?





Also, if you're in the Salt Lake area, know this: It's Emily Wing Smith's Launch Party for Back When You Were Easier to Love!





Thursday

The King's English

7:00 p.m.





Our Barry Manilow cover band, The Barely Manilows, will be debuting our hit single, at the Copacabana! 





Seriously, I'm pretty sure this will be a one time thing, so be there or be elsewhere. Who's with me?

My Love Letter to Goodreads... I'm just Happy to be Shelved

Hey y'all. I'm back.





I'm sorry I didn't blog or even answer comments during the week. There was absolutely no Wi-fi. And I really wanted to tell Jenni Elyse that I was flattered I nearly killed her husband. 





I'm getting my pictures together, so I'll tell you all about the trip next week. For now, I'll tell you about something awesome I saw on Goodreads.





So, I'm in a group called the Apocalypsies- we're a bunch of debut authors who have books coming out in 2012. Get it? Apocalypse? Add on the -ies?



Because this might be your only chance.  Dunh dunh DUNH!
Anywho, one of the authors was talking about building buzz, and how she's gotten more publisher support because of the number of people on Goodreads who have marked her book "to-read". 





So, I checked the Goodreads numbers for Everneath. 





Let's just say that other author had me way beat by, like, thousands. Which is okay, because that's not what the story is about.





I know it's not coming out for awhile, so right now the numbers are small enough that I notice each person who's signed up to read it, and I feel a burst of love for that person. I heart them long time.





Not in a weird way. Okay, this post is getting off-track. My point is, it's early enough in the process that I don't have to avoid Goodreads for fear of bad reviews (because there will be people out there who hate it. Every author has to accept that.), and since I get maybe one new "to-be-read" designation a day, I feel like the book is spreading person by person, one by one. 





Anyway, I was going over the list of people who've decided to read my book. It's a crazy thing to go from begging family, friends and neighbors to please please pretty please read your book, to people on Goodreads actually wanting to read it. Without any bribery.





As I was looking over the list, I started noticing people put my book on "shelves" like: "Apocalypsies", "Mythology", "Retelling", "Paranormal YA".





Makes sense. Until I got to one reader. This reader had marked my book not as "to-read" but as "maybe-read" and then in the shelves, she had my book shelved under "Going-in-Skeptical."





I don't know why this made me smile. How honest! Maybe this reader is saying "I might read it, but I might not, and I wanted to tell you I'm on the fence about it and I'm not really expecting much."





I figure the "Going-in-Skeptical" shelf is just below the "There's-a-50-50-chance-I'll-Like-It" shelf, and just above the "I'll-bet-you-my-right-pinkie-finger-this-book-is-going-to-blow" shelf. 





And then I started wondering how I got on such a shelf. Was it my book description? Was it a sketchy blog post? Is it because I didn't have Wi-Fi this week, and the reader was all, "If I can't count on her to deliver a Wednesday post, how can I have faith in her book?"





Do I smell?





Or maybe the cup's half full. Maybe the reader was never planning on reading my book in the first place, and then saw something that made her re-think her position. (Was it the author picture with the pickle on my cheek?) Then she was all, "Well, if she's brave enough to put a pickle on her cheek, it might be worth my time. Maybe."



Here's my Hopeful Face




Now I want to thank her. Pinch her cheek and tell her I'm honored she would give me a chance, despite her low expectations. I kind of hope everyone goes in with low expectations. Those are so much easier to meet!





I know this sounds a little manic with a side of neuroses, but I really do appreciate each and every person who has announced to the world that they plan "to-read" my book. Even if they also announce they plan on "Not-Being-Impressed". 





I want to gather all my Goodreads readers and commence with one giant group hug, and possibly a spontaneous Hokey-Pokey. 



I'm the sassy girl in the green plaid skirt on the left.




I want to know what made them choose my book- the thought process behind clicking on the to-read button-thingy. 





And then I think about how a stranger, from who knows where, has chosen to invest her time in me. What an honor, and a responsibility. 





So, you Goodreads readers, this is my love letter to you. All 292 of you. I have to do it now, because in a couple months my ARCs (Advanced Reader Copies) will be out. And then reviews will come in. And maybe no one will want to hokey-pokey with me anymore. 





But for now... the slate is clean. There's still the chance I might come as a pleasant surprise to this reader. 





Hope. It's what I live on.





If you would like to put me on a shelf of your making, you can do it here. I don't care what the shelf is called. I'm just happy you would shelve (shelf?) me. My whole life, I've dreamed of being shelved. 





What do y'all think about Goodreads? Are you a member?





And has anyone seen the new Jane Eyre?  

My Trip to Hurkin, A Woman from Hungary was Hungry, and the Best way to Kill a Red Ant

Word progress for TEAM TAMALE: 7/40,000





Yes, you read that right, but there's a very good reason. I forgot to tell you all that the day after I started the Chimichanga Challenge with Bree Despain, I went on a family vacation. So, the first five days are going to be rough. 





By the way, the seven words I wrote were: "She wakes up and senses a problem." Are you totally intrigued? What problem would she immediately sense? Had she been snoring?





Are you hooked?





... okay, I know. I'm a slacker.





So, I'm out of town in beautiful Hurricane, Utah. (pronounced You-Taw.) Oh, and for those of you not from Utah, "Hurricane" is not pronounced "Hurr-ih-cane." It's pronounced "Hur-Kin". No Foolin'. It's one of those Utah quirks. 





Hurricane is one of the towns near Zions National Park. We paid $20 dollars to get in, to see scenes like this:





but really we spent the day doing this:





Kid C and his cousin Necie. Buried together, just the way the like.
About five minutes into our hike, the kids saw a pile of sand, and 3 hours later we were still there. What is it with kids and sand? Makes me think I should've remodeled our house with sand. It would've saved us a lot of money and provided an endless source of entertainment. Vacuuming would be a thing of the past. 





The only problem would be the red ants. You know what happens to red ants when you stomp on them in the sand? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Smothering them in sand doesn't work either. The only thing you can really do is wet the sand under them and then stomp on them, so the wet sand creates a hard surface. 





This technique took me about 3 hours to perfect... after which Kid C, with tears in his eyes, informed me red ants have families too. 







I distracted him by throwing sand in his eyes. Then he was crying for a different reason. A better one.







The crew. Plus two friends.


Kid C was excited to learn that many of the tourists at the park came from different countries. He started asking people where they were from. He got answers like Australia and Jordan, but he was confused when he asked an older woman - who didn't know any english - where she was from.





The woman smiled and motioned to her son to answer Kid C's question, but before the son could interpret, Kid C spoke loudly and slowly to the woman again... "DO... YOU... KNOW... WHERE... YOU'RE... FROM....?"





Because speaking loudly and slowly is the universal language.





The son replied, "Hungary."





Thinking the boy answered "How are you feeling right now," and not "Where are you from", kid C just looked at me and shook his head. He was lost in translation. He gave up.





Blogging will be sporadic this week, as I have discovered that Wi-Fi is not one of the naturally occurring elements in Zion National Park. I still don't understand how it is not universally available. 





How's all y'all's week going? Is it Spring Break for anyone else? Anyone going topless in Cancun?

Three things, A Rant, And the Return of the Great Author Smackdown

Word Progress: 0/40,000*

*This will make sense once you read the blog post.

Hey y'all. Three things on this sunny Friday Morning:

1. A rant.

This morning, I had a doctor's appointment scheduled. I've been waiting six months for this appointment. 

The doctor's office called me several times during the week, warning me not to be late. They are not forgiving of new patients who are late.

About a half hour before the appointment, I received a phone call, telling me the doctor had to cancel because she was off delivering a baby.

That's all fine. So I call back to reschedule, and the office person says the soonest she can fit me in again would be in six weeks. 

What the WHAT? Six weeks? They cancel on me 30 minutes before the appointment, after warning me all week about the dire consequences if I was late, and the soonest they can reschedule is in six weeks?

Does anyone else think that's crazy? 

The scheduler asked me if the end of May was good for me. Because I am not afraid of confrontation, I replied with a scathing "Um, yeah. That should work fine."

Why am I so scared of schedulers? Because my uncle was killed by a scheduler.

Kidding. I suck.

2. Lady of Leisure

Kid C (8 years old) said to me the other day: "Brodi, I think you are the most relaxed person in our family."

me: "What do you mean?"

him: "You don't go to work. You don't go to school." Thoughtful pause. "There must be something you can do..." 3. An Author Smackdown: The Chimichanga Challenge Returns

40,000 words in 21 days. 

Many of you will remember that Everneath came about because of a contest I had with author Bree Despain: The Chimichanga Challenge. It was a race to finish our novels.  (Mine became Everneath, hers was the sequel to The Dark Divine). 

Side note: I can't really remember why we called it the Chimichanga Challenge, but I think it was because we were talking about it in the parking lot of Costco when a strange man tried to sell us tamales out of a zip-lock bag he was carrying.Tamales... Chimichangas.... there you go.

To motivate each other for our current WIPs (Works-in-Progress), we are having another race. Here's the rundown.

Team names remain the same:Brodi.... Team TamaleBree......Team Gluten-Intolerant

Object of the Race:To reach 40,000 words (in addition to the ones already written) by May 6, 2011. 21 days from now.

The Rules:

a. Never talk about Fight Club.b. Never get involved in a land war in Asia.c. Never bury the lead.

The Point:Brodi finishes EVERNEATH 2Bree finishes DARK DIVINE 3

We will blog about our progress, and we will trash talk each other. (Can you believe she can't handle dairy products? Wuss.)

And, dear blog readers, you can divide yourselves into teams as well. Join one of our teams, or form your own team and start writing! And contrary to many religious zealots, you can bat for both teams if you want. Here's the best part: If we all reach 40,000 words in 21 days, we all win! Yay! Winners can treat themselves to whatever they want. Everyone can win!

But I will say: Last time, I totally won. 

So, what do you think? Do you want to form your own team? Do you want to join one of ours? Who do you like better, me or Bree? What do you like better? Tamales or Gluten Free Rice Bread?



Do you think the doctor totally should've squeezed me in before six weeks?