Brodi Ashton's Blog, page 25

Second Revision Letter, Shorter than the First... And my Blog has a new Dress

Hey y'all.

So, I got my second revision letter. As you may recall, I turned in my revisions the Friday before Thanksgiving. That's less than a two-week turnaround, during a major holiday.

Wow.

The good thing is, my editor is really fast!

Yay!

The bad thing is, my editor is really fast .

Break's over.

And apparently she's a speed-typer, because you'd think with such a quick turnaround, the revision letter would be only a couple sentences long.

Um...

The letter itself is brilliant. I haven't actually read it yet. (I usually need about 24 hours to work up the nerves to read these letters. The process involves dressing in my gray sweats and running up the steps to the state capitol, at the top of which I throw a couple of fist pumps, and then sacrifice a goat). But Sam read it, and he gave me a rundown of the major points, which were all insightful and necessary. Dangit.  

I love having an editor who gets the book and is so enthusiastic about it, in spite of the fact that she's Captain McSpeedy Typerpants.  

For those of you who thought, "Her book's not coming out until winter 2012? That's like forever away!", it turns out we are on an accelerated schedule, just to make all of our deadlines.  And really, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because I hate the wait. I go a little nuts when I wait. Just look at what I did to my blog! 

*Ahem*... do you like it? My blog, I mean? 

I still have to flesh out the clicker tabs (I totally speak tech) and gussy up the top, but I'm happy to be rid of the flowers. Because, as Bree Despain pointed out to me yesterday, "Yeah, the flowers totally aren't you." I'm not sure how to take that.

Now, anyone know where I can purchase a goat?

One Last thing I'm Thankful For... And Compiling a Holiday Book List

Hey y'all. Happy December.

Kid C had an assignment to write one thing he's thankful for, inside a drawing of a candy corn.  Here's what he turned in: I'm kind of proud of him, because I've always told him to "Think outside the candy corn."

My favorites:the unavers and space (the universe and space)a home and corn and tirky and a god and chikin and foodand pincek (pancake)

And for the big finish in the lower right had corner....the world and pets and peple and Ham

In that order. 

The thing I learned from this (besides someone needs to work on his spelling) is that even if a kid can't speak at age five, you may reach a point at age seven where you can't shut him up. For that, I'm grateful.

As the holiday season begins, may we all think outside the candy corn.



Before I go, (I'm at my computer, I'm not really going anywhere) let's think of good books for people to buy as presents this month.



I'll go first:

Sweethearts by Sara Zarr. 



I just read this yesterday, for the first time, in two sittings. Loved it.



Now, your turn. (Or you can leave a comment and just say hi.)

Thanksgiving at the Ranch, with 25 nieces and nephews. That's not a typo.

I come from a small family. Two parents and one sister. I married a guy who is the youngest of six children, each of whom has from 3 to 8 kids. 

So, my Thanksgiving dinners went from nice, quiet affairs to this:

Yep, that is what 16 adults and 25 children looks like. (Okay, not all of them are pictured, but you get the idea.)

I'm in the upper right hand corner, with my arms folded. You can see I wore my nice sweats for the occasion. (The one with the pink shell strategically placed over my left... um... sister.) Because at Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for pants that give a little.

How, you ask, do we fit inside one house? The answer is, we don't. We all drive to the family ranch in central Utah.  Okay, I did not take this picture. If I had, the lake would be ice, and it would look like it was 15 degrees outside. 

Here's one Sam took:   Can you tell how cold it was? Just spit at that picture, and you will see the spittle freeze on your computer screen.*

*The above statement is not FDA approved. Please do not send me bills to replace your computer screen

Kid B and Kid C love it here. They get to ride horses:

They get to laugh at their mom, whose saddle lurched to one side when she hoisted herself up on the horse.  The saddle was loose! I swear! Stop looking at my butt!

And then, when we're bored, we get to shove our kids into a hole in a rock. (Thus, the origin of the phrase: "Why don't you just shove it in a hole in the rock!") They got stuck there. Between a rock and a hard place. (Which happened to be another rock). 

The boys are still there. We told them Santa Claus will first appear at that rock, and if they're not there, Santa won't go to any houses, and there will be no Christmas. Don't worry, we left food and water.

How was all y'all's Thanksgiving? Anything discover really random things you're thankful for? 

For instance: I was Thankful for Kraft Roka Blue cheese spread for my famous cheese ball. I didn't know how thankful until they stopped producing it. Stupid Kraft. I always knew I shouldn't trust anyone who spells Craft wrong.

I would like to thank...

my Family... who understands the mania of living with a writer, and still loves me

A dad... who is going all Chuck Norris on Pancreatic Cancer's arse

Friends... Who know when to come by with emergency Diet Coke, and then know when to stay far away

Blog readers (yes, YOU)... who brighten my day, and without whom my blog would just be a burp in the wind, only not as magical

A critique group... who have to wade through hundreds of crappy first drafts before they get to anything good

An agent... who's one part teddy bear, one part ninja, a dash of therapist, and a cup of cheerleader (mix together and bake at 350)

An editor... who quizzes me on the world I've created, and therefore makes the book better

A mom... who doesn't flinch when our budget's tight and I need a loan

A sister... who can't help introducing me as "the Next Stephenie Meyer", even though I punch her in the arm, because let's be honest, nobody's the next Stephenie Meyer

Two boys... Who still have no idea why I'm at the computer all day

A hubs... who... who... yeah. No words. Sorry Sam.

Feel free to add your own list. Love to you all! Happy Thanksgiving!

A Visual Tour of EVERNEATH

Happy Monday before Thanksgiving, y'all.

So, my writer's group and I went to a condo in Midway for a writer's retreat over the weekend, and I am proud to announce I kept my promise about not writing a single word. 

One of my favorite parts of the weekend was strolling the streets of Park City, and checking out some of the sights where my book takes place. (Did I mention EVERNEATH is set in Park City?)

There's a critical scene in the book, where the main character Nikki meets the guitarist of an indie rock band. The ominous encounter takes place at Harry O's, on Main in Park City. 

So we sneaked inside to get a peek.  That's Emily Wing Smith on the right, and I'm the unabomber on the left. 

Now, to really get the ambiance of the scene, you have to picture the place at night, jam packed during the Sundance Film Festival. And then picture an awkward teenage girl making her way through the crowd.   Just when she thinks she's going to have to stand there, looking lame and alone, all night, a familiar looking boy from one of the VIP couches scoots over, and makes room for her. She recognizes he's a member of one of her favorite indie bands. Little did she know what that meeting would lead to... and the fateful decision she would make. 

Okay, I'm just being silly with the whole tagline thing. dun Dun DUN!!!

Anyway, I loved seeing it in person after I'd been writing about it all month.

Here's another stop on our tour: Flanagan's. An Irish bar and restaurant. One of my characters in my book gets kicked out of this bar a few times.

They also make a delicious Shepherd's Pie. Yummm. 

So, yeah, it was a total blizzard that day. We rode the free trolley to stay out of the weather. 

If you're ever in Park City, check out these places, and ride the historic trolley.

So, what's everyone doing for Thanksgiving? We're going down to my hubby's ranch in central Utah. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, especially this year because we have so many things to be grateful for! 

Have a fantastic holiday. What's everyone doing? And did you like your tour of the EVERNEATH?

My Revision's Greatest Hits, from Best Lines to Worst Google Searches

My revisions are in. They're in!

To celebrate, I'm going up to a condo in Midway for a writing retreat this weekend. And guess what I'm going to do on that retreat?  ANYTHING BUT WRITE!

So, here's a rundown of the highlights from the revision:

Total words added: Um... 20,000. Please don't tell my editor. Pretty please.

Total times someone flinches in my book: 1

Total times someone spots a little from laughing too hard: 0 (still trying to work that one in)

Strangest Google search for revisions: "4 syllable names that start with P"

Second strangest Google search: "Different ways to describe the shape of a knife wound" (I think I was a little desperate on that one. The search turned up nothing of use. I finally had to use my own descriptive terms. I hate it when I have to write my own words.)

Third strangest Google search: "Does anyone want to write a slam-bang finish for my book? Anyone?"(Okay, I didn't really search for that. But I wanted to.)

Favorite line from my book (today, at least): "There are no heroes. And if there were, I wouldn't be one of them."

Second favorite line from the book: "Nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tea cozy."

Third favorite line: "They expected me to wear pants!"

Best part about revising: Friends bring you treats! 

Worst part about revising: The smell.

So, now I plan on relaxing for a moment. I'm going to Midway with my writers group, where cinnamon bears will be eaten and Diet Coke will be mainlined. 

What are all y'all's plans for this weekend? Anyone leaving town for Thanksgiving?

Proof that Even My Subconsious is Politically Correct

I had a strange dream last night.

This door-to-door salesman appeared on my front porch wearing a turban and a shalwar kameez. He was selling machine guns. He had one in his hands, and asked me if it was okay if he did a demonstration. 

The last thing I wanted to do was to give this salesman the impression that I was scared. I would never make assumptions based solely on the fact that he was wearing a turban. Some of my best friends in Pakistan wear turbans and shalwar kameez. I didn't want to be accused of racial (or religious) profiling. I wanted to act just like I'd act if a Catholic or a Baptist was at my door, brandishing a gun for sale.

So I said, sure. Please commence with the demonstration.

He loaded the gun, pointed it at my house, and - swiveling back and forth - proceeded to riddle my house with bullets. As the kicker to the demonstration, he shot me in my leg.

"Do you see how the bullet lodged in your bone, instead of going through and through?"

I nodded, trying not to cry.

"It's amazing isn't it? And that's not even full strength! That bullet was diluted 10 to 1." "Wow," I grunted, as I hobbled over for my checkbook. 

"That's not all." The salesman then pulled out two hand grenades. "Check this out." He removed the pins out and through them over my roof and into my back yard.

We listened for a few moments.  "You're expecting a big boom, right? Am I right??" The salesman said, excited.

I nodded.

"Well that's the beauty of these babies. You never know when they're going to explode!"

"I'll take two," I said, although at this point it was more like a whimper.

The salesman pulled out a sticker and put it on the shoulder of my shirt.  It read: 

I am Politically Correct.

So, dear blog readers... what does it mean?

And I will say this:  writers often complain of insomnia, but sometimes isn't it really a blessing? 

Interpretations please!

Overheard this Weekend, Including Gems from the SCBWI Conference, Church, and Kid C

Hey y'all.  We're on the home stretch for edits. They're due this Friday, and I'll warn you now... blogging may or may not happen this week. And if it does, it may or may not sound crazy. 

Okay, crazier than usual. 

Last weekend, I attended the SCBWI conference, went to church, had a family dinner, worked on edits... so I thought it'd be fun to share with you some of the phrases I overheard during my exploits. (Who knew going to church was an "exploit"?)

Things overheard this past weekend:

"Pick me! I wanna be a leper! Me! Me!"

-From a boy in primary who was volunteering for a presentation on a parable

"Query hooks should be equal parts desirable and unique. A paranormal romance where the main character falls for a supernatural creature? Desirable, but not unique. A story about a child serial killer? Unique, but not desirable. Make it both."

-paraphrased from Chelsea Eberly, Associate Editor at Random House

"Mormons are lucky they don't drink. They wake up in the morning and they know that how they feel at that moment is the best they're going to feel all day."

-From my uncle at the dinner table

"Voice [in writing] can't be taught. But it can be cultivated, like a garden." -Matt Kirby, author of The Clockwork Three

"If you want to keep something secret, put it in the instructor handbook."

-From a church leader at an instructor training seminar

"It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is with a poor one."

-My mother-in-law quoting her own mother 

"Shots kill kids!!" -Shouted from Kid C to the waiting room as we were leaving the doctor's office after receiving our flu shots.

So, what did you overhear this weekend? And how is everybody doing?

I Have a new Title... And Kid C Explains the Life and Death Consequences of Times Tables

It's time for...

Thing 1 and Thing 1!

Thing 1:The title for my upcoming book has been officially changed from The Ever'neath to.... drum roll please... EVERNEATH!

You see how there's no "the" and no apostrophe? Also, there's no exclamation point. I just put that in there because I'm so excited I have an official title!

Not only that, but the new title means I've made up a word. (Okay, technically Bree Despain made up the word.) It's not an any dictionaries... yet. 

So, what do you think? Is this something you could get used to?

Thing 1:In his second grade class, 7-year old Kid C has moved up from addition, to subtraction, and finally to multiplication. In order to pass off each level, the students have to finish a worksheet of problems in under 6 minutes.

Kid C was one of the first to reach multiplication, and he's been working his butt off to learn his times tables. The other night, it was time for bed, but he'd been practicing his worksheets and wanted to do more. 

I told him it was time to stop, because he had to get some sleep. He responded with, "What do you think this is, some sort of JOKE?!"

Apparently, second grade times tables are life and death. He then went on to say (and I hope I transcribed it all correctly):

"Mom, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns, who know their times tables. Who's gonna do it? You? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Math Skills, while time-consuming, probably saves lives. 

"You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on my times tables, you need me on my times tables. We use words like honor, code, loyalty, and multiplication. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. 

"I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a woman who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a pencil, and do a worksheet. Either way, I don't give a darn what time my bedtime is!"

Seriously, what are they teaching these kids?

SCBWI Conference This weekend I'm going to the SCBWI conference in downtown Salt Lake City. Sydney puts on a great conference every year. And it was two years ago at this conference that I met my awesome writers' group, The SIX. 

Anyone else going?

I'm Back from my Revision Retreat: And How Your Book is like a Big Pizza Pie

Hey Y'all. Happy Wednesday. 

I'm back! Thanks for making Sam feel so welcome on Monday. He's filled in on the blog three times now, and so far he's 3 for 3 on using the word "metrosexy". Because that's the mark of people who are metrosexy- they have to remind you a lot.

I think he's totally metrosexy, in a fluffy, squidgy kind of way. 

As Sam told you, I spent the last two days up in the mountains of Midway, UT, to do some revising. I took the trip because I was getting a little lost in my book - Alice down the rabbit hole kind of lost - so I decided to make a road map of it using post-it notes.

Presenting, your first look at EVERNEATH, post-it style:

On the tour of my book:

If you'll follow me please... The book starts in the upper-left hand corner, and goes down column by column. As you can see the notes are color-coded. 

Blue: Flash BackwardGreen: Flash SidewaysOrange: MC (Main Character) eats a slice of Pizza

(Okay, one of these is not the true code)

The thing I like best about this method is that it's a snapshot of the balance and pacing in my book. Yes, my MC eats a lot of pizza.  Especially toward the end. And therein lies the rub (of special tomato sauce):

Readers are bound to get bored of the MC only eating pizza. They'll be all, "Hey! What happened to those cool little blue post-its? And I haven't seen a green one in ages. Flash me somewhere! Beam me up, Snotty!"

Imagine if the pizza delivery guy came, and all the toppings were piled on 3 slices. We'd never stand for it. We demand our toppings to be sprinkled evenly throughout!

Okay, to address the elephant in the room, does anyone have any spare pizza? Seriously. Apparently I'm starving.

With my book made up of post-it notes, it was easy to put all the notes together, shuffle them like a deck of cards, and divvy them out evenly. The book doesn't make sense anymore, but according to the color wheel, it's pleasing to the eyes.

The other thing I discovered while on retreat:

Bottles of Diet Coke are, on average, one or two fingers too big for a single serving.  Somebody do something. There are people in the world who don't have access to Diet Coke, and here I am wasting two-fingers worth with every serving. 

It's okay, though. I pooled the leftovers, and I'm using it to plant a tree in Brooklyn. So, what do you think of the book? And how are you NaNoWriMo-ers doing? And is anyone else craving pizza?