Debra Driza's Blog, page 6

Even YA Characters Need a Little Holiday Love

Well, I know I've been MIA for a long time, but yes, I'm still alive.  Barely.  At least, that's how it feels right now, because I'm pretty sure I've hacked up all but the deepest layers of my lung cells. Stinking cough. If it weren't in such poor taste, I'd be tempted to be overheard mumbling TB in public, just to see the horrified reactions.  You know, come to think of it, that might nab me some prime real estate at Starbuck's….

 But, believe it or not, I'm not actually posting for the first time in eons to talk about The Cough That Tried to Eject My Lungs into the Next Galaxy.  Instead, I want to talk about cheerful stuff.  The holidays are coming up, and everyone is running around, trying to score perfect gifts for that certain someone.  And it made me wonder….what if that certain someone was one of our favorite YA characters?  What would we be purchasing for them?

 After careful consideration, I made up this handy list of what a few YA characters could really use to bring in the New Year.

 Edward:  An economy-sized bottle of shampoo and a membership to the local spray-tanning salon.  Because he's lucky the glare off his chest during the fountain scene in New Moon didn't blind Bella for life.

 *If it had been pre-Breaking Dawn, then I would have suggested one of those Bop It toys.  For one, to help him alleviate all that sexual frustration that must have accrued over the past 109 yrs, and for two—just because I think he would look hilarious holding one in his sparklerific hands.  But post-Breaking Dawn?  Probably an indestructible pillow instead.  I mean, all those feathers flying around can't be sanitary.

Now that's what I call scary.

Bella:  A lifetime's supply of therapy.  Hey, trust me—remembering a regular episiotomy is bad enough. Remembering an episiotomy performed by your own predatory newborn? So not okay.  And also, a Bedazzler.  So her skin doesn't out-sparkle her shirt.

Ooooh, shiny!

Jacob:  A year's supply of t-shirts.  Dude must have fallen on some pretty hard times in New Moon and Eclipse to only to be able to afford pants.  Also, Chuck E Cheese token. You know, for his girlfriend.

Dude, where's my shirt?

Adrian from Vampire Academy:  The patch, a sponsor for AA, and P90X.  I love you, buddy, but seriously, getting off your pampered butt and doing a little exercise once in awhile would work wonders for your spirit-inflicted pity party.

 Katniss: A year-long trip to the spa.  Seriously, can you think of anyone more tightly wound than her?

 Peeta:  A copy of this book below to read while Katniss is deciding between the raw sugar scrub and the glitter pedicure.

Run While You Still Can!

 Zoey Redbird from House of Night:  A link to urban dictionary. Because there comes a point when, after being stalked by giant birdmen, juggling several guys, some of them evil, and finding out your favorite teacher wants to wipe out humanity,  "poopy-face" just no longer cuts it as a curse.

 Gale:  An infinite-repeat recording of old New Kids on the Block, Debbie Gibson, and the Wonder Pets and Dora theme songs.  And a little visit from Krampus.  Because poopy-face actually works for him in the last book. Oh, and LONG LIVE TEAM PEETA!

So there you have it, my YA holiday gift wrap-up!  Feel free to add your own suggestions in the comments–I'd love to hear from you!

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Sick of socal rain…

Rain, rain go away. Come again some other day. Or not.

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Two for Tuesday, er, Wednesday: Double Rainbows

Okay, so when I put up my post about SCBWI yesterday, I somehow forgot the most crucial thing.  It was there, in LA, among all those writerly types, that I first learned about Double. Rainbow. (All. The. Way. Across. The. Sky.)

I know, right?  This is life-altering stuff.  I also couldn't find the two key photos of me and one of my roomies yesterday, but it worked out perfectly. In true *Two for Tuesday style, here are Stephanie Kuehn's and my two attempts to make a Double Rainbow of our very own:

Wait, are we trying to fly away?

 

Hmmmm......

Hey, I never said they were GOOD attempts. 

And how would any Double Rainbow Two for Tuesday be complete without both the

A) Double Rainbow Guy:

B) **The Double Rainbow Song:

*Yes, I wrote this whole post before realizing it was, in fact, Wednesday. So it's technically a Two for Wednesday instead. Sue me.

**Houndrat is not responsible for any ear worms that may result. 

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Top 10 Things I Learned at SCBWI

I don't know about the rest of you, but I STILL feel like I'm recovering from SCBWI. I had such an AMAZING, AWESOME, FANTABULOUS time, meeting up with a bunch of online peeps, attending keynotes, and generally just flying my crazy-flag. A huge shout-out to my roomies: Veronica Roth, Corrine Jackson, Stephanie Kuehn, and honorary one-night-only roomie Dawn Miller–you ladies are both super fun and amazingly tolerant. Cough.

So, in honor of my trip, I've put together a list of top 10 things I learned at SCBWI. While there may be some useful tidbits for writers on here, a lot probably falls firmly into the Oh-my-god-Deb-is-so-freaking-random category. Don't judge.

10. The girls of YA Highway are all gorgeous (really, it's uncanny), fun, and great at leading field trips! Also, they rock at coming up with cool group costume ideas:

So glad they let me terrorize hang with them!

9. Veronica Roth likes to spoon when she shares a bed with you. Okay, joking, joking–there was no spooning involved at all–partly bc I sleep like a vampire, partly bc I think she would have punched me in the nose in her sleep if I'd tried.

8. Some editors suggest that book tours often don't promote sales enough to justify the expense, and endorse other forms of marketing as much more effective. (see, I DID listen sometimes). This was interesting to me because I've always heard so much about book tours as the MAIN way of promoting your book.

7. Hannah Moskowitz talks faster than should be humanly possible. And yet I STILL understood her. Hmmm….. (also, she's freaking adorable, though she'll probably kick my ass for using that term to describe her).

6. Yes, editors are sick of paranormal, but yes, it's still selling. Make sure yours has a unique spin.

5. Don't ever open up urban dictionary in a group setting. Ever. Also, writers know many, many bad words and hand gestures (thank you, Steph–the guy in our breakout session will remember that moment forever).

4. Not all of your roommates will appreciate your stunning Wham! medley…especially not when you sing it on the Santa Monica Boardwalk.

3. According to several editors, ebooks are not a sign of the Bookpocalypse! No, really. Some editors actually embrace ebooks as a good thing for publishing.

2. The jacuzzi at the host hotel doesn't stay open nearly late enough.

1. Writers, agents, and publishers are some of the best peeps ever!  (cue random photo montage;)

The Musers (and Cindy Pon!) chilling by the pool....

Dawn Miller, taking a shopping break...

Emilia and Jay Asher, looking pretty in pink...

Cindy Pon (who told me I almost broke her lap, HA!)

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Think Your MC's Clothes Don't Matter? Think Again–and Rate my Swimsuit Choices for Katniss, Bella, and more!

I don't know about you, but I've noticed a bit of a trend lately in YA books—heck, all books, for that matter. The trend? That much less wordage is going into describing the characters' clothes.

I'm sort of guessing this is a backlash from the decline of chick lit, and even though this makes me very sad—I love, love, love my Bridget Jones and Sophie Kinsella! (and NOT just because I can relate to the Queen of Babble! Really!)—I do get it. Sort of. I mean, I get that people don't want oodles and oodles of brand names to smack them upside the head every time they turn the page. To be sure, some of those books definitely read like product placements look in movies. Like, the authors deserved some serious kickbacks, or at the very least, free purses. 'Cuz you can never have enough of those. Especially when you defile them as rapidly as I do.

But, on the other hand…I sort of miss the descriptions of outfits, of what the characters are wearing at any given time. Call me girly if you will (though, this is kind of amusing, given the dust gathering on my hair-styling appliances) or fashion conscious (HA! Even more amusing since most of my capris are older than my soon-to-be first grader)…or, better yet, call me someone who thinks clothes can say a lot about a character.

I mean, picture a high-school guy wearing a buttoned-up collared shirt and khakis to class, and another wearing a Sex Pistols t-shirt and ripped jeans. Without knowing anything else, you've suddenly got a few clues into their respective personalities. Provided they aren't wearing those outfits to be ironic. Or it's Halloween. Anyway.

To prove my point, I'm posting the names of popular YA characters below, followed by the kind of swimsuit I envision those characters wearing.

Yeah, okay, so maybe it's an excuse for me to screw around on the net plan my new life as a swimsuit designer distract myself from the impending 2-day car ride of doom with the kidlets (meep!) But seriously, I think people's personalities and circumstances influence their clothing choices—even swimwear. How your character dresses him or herself really might give your reader some new insight.

First up: Katniss from Hunger Games. Okay, so let's face it: Katniss has no time for frivolity. She's either helping her family survive, or she's battling for her own life in the Hunger Games. So no cutesy, decorative crap for her—she needs sleek, fast and utilitarian. Hence I think this Speedo skinsuit would work:

Lean, mean, swimming machine!

Now, tell me this doesn't say something about the wearer, especially if that person wasn't at a swim meet?

Next up, Grace from The Dark Divine. Grace is a little old-fashioned in some ways, and given her father's profession and her church-oriented upbringing, I just can't see her being comfortable flashing a ton of skin. So I pictured her in something a little retro with good coverage:

Polka Dots, for the win!

Really, doesn't this suit say that? That here's a girl who isn't trying to flaunt a bunch of skin, but is comfortable with herself all the same? Unlike the next character, Rose from Vampire Academy, who, let's face it, realizes she's hot and has no shame in sharing her hotness with others. I totally picture her wearing a skimpy string bikini:

Flaunt it, baby!

And finally, the sparkly-vamp loving girl herself, Bella Swan. For the most part, Bella is a totally self-conscious character, one who eschews attention. So I envisioned her in a plain Jane black swimsuit—one that wouldn't make anyone look twice, with good coverage, no frills, just generic.

The Safe Choice

So, what do you think? Do you agree with the overall style of my choices for these characters? And that clothes say something about a character's personality? And, most importantly—what style of swimsuit do YOU wear?

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#booskthatchangedmyworld

So, Gretchen McNeil invited me to do a post on Books That Changed My World. If you're on twitter, you've probably seen the hashtag floating around. I don't know about you, but I get excited to read those tweets. Somehow, knowing my fellow tweetmeisters love so many of the same books as me shrinks the world just a little bit more.

Anyway, I feel like there are SO MANY books that made a huge impact on me, but I'm only going to name a few.

Desert Dog, Lion Hound, Big Red—basically, all of the dog books by Jim Kjelgaard. I gobbled these up when I was little, and I attribute them to instilling in me my great love of dogs that persists today. (You hear that, naughty Ridgebacks? You owe Jim. Big time.)

(image from amazon.com)

Dune by Frank Herbert: No, I'm not a huge sci-fi fan, but wow—this book just amazed me. I loved the epicness of it, and it first introduced me to the idea of the "chosen one" in fiction. Really, no wonder I became such a rabid Buffy and Matrix fan later on.

A Wrinkle in Time: The first book that really drove the point home that love conquers all. Even on other planets. With large brain monsters.

Fletch by Gregory MacDonald: Oh my, how I love this book. Fletch was probably my first anti-hero—charming, dry, and majorly naughty. I credit this book with starting me on my love affair with mysteries.

(image from amazon.com)

Bridget Jones's Diary: My first foray into chick lit. Awesomesauce. Probably the reason I like injecting a little humor into most of my writing. Plus, I'm pretty sure I quoted bits of this for years afterwards.

Brideshead Revisited: One of my favorite books of all time. The relationships, the humor, the tragedy as everyone struggled to reconcile their religious beliefs with their lives—it's all so amazing.

Twilight: Okay, say what you will about sparkly vamps, but this is the book that got me writing again after a long hiatus. So I owe it a huge debt of gratitude. Good Vampire.

I could go on and on and on, but I won't. Instead, please share books that changed YOUR life–I'd love to know!

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Fire: Why Cashore has me feeling like a failed feminist (Go Archer!)

As I closed Fire (an awesome book—I rarely enjoy high fantasy and gobbled this one up), I had several thoughts raging through my head, but two were predominant. One was, "HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO ARCHER? DOES KRISITIN CASHORE HAVE NO SOUL?!" Quickly followed by, "Oh my God—I'm an ARCHER-phyle—does this mean my feminist card has been revoked?"

I'm still pondering that last question.

Let's face it—it seems pretty obvious that Cashore penned Brigan to be the perfect feminist love interest. He trusts Fire, he's okay with her risking her life to help the kingdom if that's her choice, he respects her as an equal.

And then there's Asher: jealous, possessive, and man-whore of the Dells. Talk about a guy who likes to shoot his arrow. A LOT. I mean, preferring macho Asher to sensitive Brigan? Really? Maybe I should just give up my voting rights and knit my husband some slippers while he goes to a strip club.

Um.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that's not all there was to it for me. Yes, Archer might have had some issues he needed to work out (some issues I think were caused in part by his and Fire's emotional imbalance—he was madly in love with her, she did not feel the same) but he was so ALIVE. Fun. Vibrant. And for me, well, Brigan was kind of a sad-sack. *ducks rotten tomatoes from the horde of Brigan fangirls out there*

Really, though—I get that Brigan has HUGE, important issues to contend with, I do. His constant role as defender of his kingdom weighs heavily on him, so it's not exactly appropriate for him to run around skipping and singing Lady Gaga all the time. But I also don't find morose men especially attractive. Technology in Brigan's kingdom just came up with reattaching amputated limbs—surely they could conjure up some anti-depressants, too? Because I think the poor guy could use some.

So for me, a big part of the Archer versus Brigan thing has nothing to do with feminism, and everything to do with personality. Like I said on twitter, I'm afraid for Fire, really afraid that after spending too much time with Brigan, she's going to lock herself in her bedchamber and listen to the fantasy equivalent of Morrissey until she's too depressed to do anything but eat chocolate and make the maids act out soap operas.

To be totally fair, some of my blatant Archer favoritism may stem from me being spoiled by romance novels. While I guess it's more realistic for the love interest not to put the heroine number one before everything in real life, I think for Brigan, Fire ranked about 4th, after leading the army, his brother the King, his daughter, etc. For Archer, she was number one, and realistic or not, that's worth something to me.

But no matter how much I explain, I can't shake the feeling that Betty Friedan is rolling in her grave.

So, after donning my flame-proof suit, I have to ask–what do you all think? Archer or Brigan? And why?

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On Synopses and Sex and the City

Sequel synopsis update: Major fail. I have a page and a half of ideas, so at least it's starting to take form. The bad news? It's a huge jumble. Have I mentioned before how hard it is to be a pantser sometimes?

But there is progress. There are now two semi-coherent paragraphs that actually sound like I know what I'm talking about. But the rest is kind of…non-existent sketchy.

I mean, I'm reasonably certain my agent Taylor will NOT be impressed if I send her the following:

Trent…

Training exercise goes awry.

Before that can happen, though, the students must do x.

DEMONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Steph?

Foreshadowing scene…..

How many die??

DEMONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, this was cut and pasted from the second half of the actual synopsis. Just further proof that my brain, eet ees scary!

Anyway, in an effort to procrastinate hope it writes itself give my mind a little break, I decided to concentrate on something of vast importance: Sex and the City. Specifically, I'm wondering—which Sex and the City girl are YOU?

It came up on twitter the other day, and it got me thinking—I'm none of them. None. But, I do have favorites, and they might surprise you. Here's my mini rundown of each character, in descending order of how much I like them.

Charlotte:

Pros: Sweet, proper, perfect wife

Cons: Sweet, proper, perfect wife. Honestly? Charlotte kinda bugs the snot out of me at times. Of all the characters, I honestly think she's the most underdeveloped, and her pseudo-primness makes me want to wallpaper her car with pages ripped out of Playgirl.? She is a good friend in a crunch, though.

Carrie:

Yep, believe it or not, Carrie is my second least fave character. While she does have an amazing wardrobe, goes to cool parties, and gets to work as a writer (bonus points for that), let's face it—she's also kinda whiny and centers her life around men wayyyy too often for my taste.

Samantha:

Okay, so yeah, she's narcissistic, a bit silly and overdramatic sometimes, but OMG–the woman knows how to have F.U.N! She's also confident, successful, grabs life by the balls (often literally) and for the most part, doesn't chase after some guy like he's the salvation of the universe. She may be over-the-top, but you gotta love her even more for that.

Miranda:

?

I think Miranda is actually the most honest, thoughtfully drawn character on the show. She's got a career, she's got a kid, she struggles with body image sometimes, has romances but doesn't live and die by men, and has a practical streak and a brain. She's a perfect foil for the more flamboyant Carrie and Samantha.

So, who's your favorite?

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Teaser Tuesday…Can I get a Woot Woot?

So, this week, I'm posting something entirely different, from my new WIP. This story is light on the depression and heavy on the random, but, well, you'll probably figure that out for yourself. Reilly is the MC's ex. My MC is typically pretty studious and maybe even a bit uptight, but Reilly seems to bring out her playful side. Weird yet familiar to be switching back to past tense.

"This thing is still running?" I eyed the rusty-looking beast that masqueraded as Reilly's car. It had been a hearse—once. Before Reilly had gotten a hold of it and painted it ocean blue, the board racks on top providing the crowning touch. I winced when Reilly popped the locks and the door squealed open.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's been good to me." He patted the door. It groaned, bouncing on wobbly hinges.

"Uh-huh. And now you can be good to her by letting her retire in the old cars' home. Or, god, at least investing in a can of WD40."

He waited until I cleared the pile of food wrappers off the seat—seriously, did he live in this thing?—before closing the door behind me. He leaned in the half-open window with a theatrical sigh. "You never did recognize quality when you saw it."

He ducked when I tried to peg him with a decaying Subway wrapper, the sound of his laughter filling the car with nostalgia. We'd had some good times together in this deathtrap, taking it down the coast, salty wind whipping through our hair. Summer had practically flown by as fast as the scenery. Which actually wasn't saying that much. If I remembered correctly, this thing could only hit 60 on a good day.

Reilly cranked the engine once, twice, three times, before it sputtered to a start. "Woo hoo! We're off! C'mon, let's hear it—a little excitement. You've got to be pumped to be doing something you can't check off your study schedule for a change. Can I get a woot? Maybe a yeah baby?"

My eye roll answered for me.

"No? How 'bout a fist pump, then? Aw, c'mon. Relax a little. There's no serious face allowed in the Reilly-mobile. In fact, I sprayed it with buzzkill repellant just the other day."

His boyish grin dared me to return it. As we rumbled out of the school parking lot, I laid my head back on the cracked headrest, feeling an answering smile flirt with my lips. Whatever—why the hell not? To shut him up, if nothing else.

"Woot!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Then I pumped my fist out the window for good measure, laughing at my own stupidity. But when I rolled my head to capture Reilly's reaction, the laughter fizzled in my throat. He was staring at me with this expression full of wonder. Like he'd just seen his perfect wave.

His gaze shifted back to the road. I noticed the muscles on his forearms straining under his skin like taut ropes. He glanced back, and the look was gone. It was just a typical Reilly smile, the same one he gave everyone.

I turned away to stare out the window. Clearly, the fresh air was making me hallucinate. It was either that, or the smell of rotting burgers wafting up from underneath my feet.

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