Zara Hoffman's Blog: Zara Hoffman's Goodreads Author Blog, page 29

3/2016: Latest Belgrave Legacy Draft Done

click for more entries As you can tell from the title, I have finished the latest draft of The Belgrave Legacy by utilizing the comprehensive notes of Jessi Elliott (who is my fabulous Critique Partner who I found online). I finished 4 days earlier than I expected. I am relieved to be ahead of schedule not only because I can pat myself on the back for finishing yet another draft and being one step closer to being ready to publish this novel, but also because I need to write a 5-page story for school and now I won't have to multi-task.

I don't want to go into detail over what changed from the last draft to this one, but you may remember when I tweeted the original draft of this story as a single book rather than a trilogy (starting at a measley 31,226 words). And then, without any feedback, I immediately jumped back in to expand and embellish the story to be more engaging and immersive. I ended up with 50,343 words​, but I still knew I needed more work. Which is where Jessi came in and I now end up at the glorious 60,075 words of Draft 3.

I am now looking for another CP to help me revise this story one more time before I submit it to my editor. If you're interested, comment below with your email.

Release Day Blitz: Twisted by Elizabeth Montgomery

About the Book Title: Twisted
Author: Elizabeth Montgomery
Publisher: CHBB Publishing
Cover Designer: Regina Wamba, Mae I Design and Photography

Who could’ve known one pair of shoes could cause so much trouble.

Dee’s lost the sparkly red heels, and when she befriends a witch to help her find a way home, she finds herself down the rabbit hole. With the veil between Wonderland and Oz torn wide open, things go awry.

The flying monkeys are loose in the Kingdom, Hatter is lost on the sun-colored brick road, and betwixt a battle of the worlds, the Red Queen seeks power, but all Dee wants is to go home. Some Twisted Teasers About the Author Elizabeth Montgomery was born in Williamsburg, Va and raised in Yorktown, Va. Growing up in and around the historic triangle spurred her love for the unusual and paranormal. She is a mom to four amazing kids, a wife to an extraordinary husband and a full-time pediatric nurse. When not writing, working or helping with homework you can find Elizabeth with her nose stuck in a book or hovering around her Keurig waiting for that next cup. ​ Giveawaya Rafflecopter giveaway

Focus: Writing for School and Internships

click for more options I think I have been more of a studious, writing machine in the past 2 weeks than I have been in the past few months! I've written a 5-page English paper in the past 3 days (after having submitted another one merely days before), memorized over 50 flashcards for a Psych test since yesterday, and wrote 3 cover letters for internships today.

The good news is I got a good grade on the aformentioned, already-submitted paper, and am mostly done with the work on the most recent paper and studying. I'm a bit nervous about putting myself out into the internship world, so any of your good thoughts would be greatly appreciated!

I've also somehow brainstormed 5 NEW story ideas in the past 12 hours and have reinstated 3 other ones in the same period. I now have 16 book ideas lined up after The Belgrave Legacy  (and by the time I make a dent of 3, I'll probably have at least 2 more to replace them. Which means I need to put a pedal to the metal to get a job, stay on top of my schoolwork, and stay on top of the ever-multiplying plot bunnies.

What are you focusing on in the near future? Sound off below.

Books On Writing

I haven't been able to do much more writing since my last post, but I have received 2 awesome books from Amazon on writing:​The Novel Planner by She's NovelMyth: A Just Write Novel (Paranormal Edition) by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign and Nadège Richards of Inkstain Interior Book Design

Forgot to say how much I love my #novelplanner from @shesnovel #amwriting

A photo posted by Zara Hoffman (@zarahoffman) on Feb 9, 2016 at 10:25am PST

And just got this beauty from @reginawamba and @nadegekrichards

A photo posted by Zara Hoffman (@zarahoffman) on Feb 9, 2016 at 10:26am PST

Aren't they positively GORGEOUS?

I've also been stockpiling books on my Kindle app. Some of my favorites have been...Everything by Derek Murphy of CreativIndie and MANY other sites. Some of my favorites of his non-fiction works are: 100 Common Publishing Questions Answered, Book Marketing is Dead, and How to Write, Format, Publish and Promote Your BookThe Paper Hearts series by Beth Revis: Some Writing Advice (which I listed in my Top 5 Books of 2015), Some Publishing Advice, and Some Marketing AdviceAnything by Chris Fox: 5,000 Words per Hour (which also made it to my Top 5), Lifelong Writing Habit, and Write to MarketWhat's in your library?

Writing Books

I haven't been able to do much more writing since my last post, but I have received 2 awesome books from Amazon on writing:​The Novel Planner by She's NovelMyth: A Just Write Novel (Paranormal Edition) by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign and Nadège Richards of Inkstain Interior Book Design

Forgot to say how much I love my #novelplanner from @shesnovel #amwriting

A photo posted by Zara Hoffman (@zarahoffman) on Feb 9, 2016 at 10:25am PST

And just got this beauty from @reginawamba and @nadegekrichards

A photo posted by Zara Hoffman (@zarahoffman) on Feb 9, 2016 at 10:26am PST

Aren't they positively GORGEOUS?

I've also been stockpiling books on my Kindle app. Some of my favorites have been...Everything by Derek Murphy of CreativIndie and MANY other sites. Some of my favorites of his non-fiction works are: 100 Common Publishing Questions Answered, Book Marketing is Dead, and How to Write, Format, Publish and Promote Your BookThe Paper Hearts series by Beth Revis: Some Writing Advice (which I listed in my Top 5 Books of 2015), Some Publishing Advice, and Some Marketing AdviceAnything by Chris Fox: 5,000 Words per Hour (which also made it to my Top 5), Lifelong Writing Habit, and Write to MarketWhat's in your library?

My Internship Experience with Freedom For All

Two summers ago, I had the amazing opportunity to intern with Katie Ford's anti-human trafficking organization, Freedom For All (FFA and previously known as the Katie Ford Foundation). Daughter of the deceased Gerard W. Ford and Eileen Ford, the founders of the Ford Modeling Agency (or "Ford Models"), Ms. Ford ran the agency for 12 years until she sold the company in 2007.

Not only was the Ford Modeling Agency the most successful of its time, it was known for its deep concern for the safety and well being of the young women it represented. Using the knowledge and values ingrained in her from having grown up in her family and in this business world, Ms. Ford was not only became the successful CEO of the agency but also transferred her knowledge of the careful regulations needed to ensure the models' safety to the cause of anti human trafficking. Freedom For All is dedicated to raising awareness of the largely "invisible" problem of human trafficking. FFA focuses on educating businesses on how to have systems in place that treat their employees fairly and protect them from human-trafficking.

The organization has many other partners that do more on the ground. For example, Visayan Forum executes regular raids and rehabilitates the girls they save. This group was featured at Freedom For All's Spring 2015 Gala at The Standard Hotel in New York City. Jeevika is similarly hands-on, but is based in India rather than the Philippines. Girls Educational & Mentoring Services (GEMS) works closer to home (in New York) with female victims of sex trafficking. These are just three out of eight of Freedom For All's partners.

When I first interned with her in summer 2014, I went to stay with Katie Ford and her two assistants at her summer home. There, I did a myriad of tasks, ranging from organizing and stapling auction packets to running credit cards for donations to scouring a beach for rocks to be used as paper weights.

Perhaps the most important part of my work was what I did before I went to join Ms. Ford. While I was still in high school, I began researching FFA's partners for Katie Ford's welcome speech for the Summer 2014 Gala. Talk about jumping in head first! I will say that perhaps what made this internship unique (in its most regular, non-spectacular way), was that it started out as a remote job before transitioning to an on-site one that very quickly became everything I lived and breathed for until the Gala was over. If I were to attempt to fully enumerate how amazing this opportunity was, it would take forever. But I will say that by being a part a large fundraising event for such a worthwhile cause, I feel passionately about was an incomparable feeling. Knowing that the part I played, no matter how small, helped fund life-changing programs for people with little or no hope filled me with happiness and pride.

Enjoying this so far? Please click one of the buttons below to read the rest.

Throughout the whole experience, what surprised me the most was how down to earth Katie Ford was. She exhibits the same hard-working ethic her mother was famous for. She focused very intently on whatever needed to be done but also could quickly switch between tasks, making her a one-woman wonder amidst everyone constantly updating her on details. I also didn't expect to have so many one-on-one interactions with her during one of the busiest times of her year so it was truly inspiring to see her work at such a close proximity.

After this first experience we parted ways and I started my senior year of high school. My experience had such a deep impact on me that I continued to research the issue and did multiple school projects around the topic. To name a few, I made a presentation about it in French, did a statistics paper on the number of reported instances of trafficking based on country, and taught a classroom of tenth-graders about the various, often unexpectedly lenient punishments for traffickers across the United States. While I've had less time to continuing research, it is still an issue very close to my heart and will probably always remain so.

Towards the end of my senior year of high school, Katie Ford contacted me again asking if I was free to volunteer for the aforementioned Spring 2015 Gala. Of course, I said yes. And although it was a much more truncated schedule for me (I came in towards the end of the preparation), I acted as one of the "hostesses," whose responsibilities included setting up tables with donation cards, pens, name cards, and more. I was also one of six or seven people leading guests to their assigned seats in the venue and accepting donations.

If I was even a fraction as helpful to her as I hoped to be, I would be happy. Working with Katie Ford was an amazing and unforgettable experience and truly taught me about how organizations work behind the scenes (spoiler alert: it's not always glamorous). All the same, it needs to be done and Ms. Ford does it with such grace.

To learn more about Freedom For All, you can follow the organization on Twitter, Facebook, and Vimeo. I especially recommend looking at their Vimeo channel as they have a haunting, three-video series called "Stop the Nightmare." One addresses the more well-known sex trafficking, another on the perhaps more subtle labor trafficking, and my personal favorite: one that calls attention to the thousands of suffering, invisible people. You can watch "Stop the Nightmare: Invisible" right there.

One last cool note, red sand was distributed at the Spring 2015 Gala and attendees were encouraged to leave the sand in the cracks to draw attention to trafficking victims who are constantly falling through the legal system and are being denied their natural human rights.

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Progress on The Belgrave Legacy

The latest draft is DONE! I have to say that my last mandatory writing break (due to school work), while frustrating, was well needed. Since I got back to work in the past week, I have FLOWN through the chapters making last-minute edits and revisions and finished today. Plot has changed, chapters cut, combined, and reorganized for a much more cohesive story (which is really the whole point of revising, right?).

And almost immediately after I hit Save, I was lucky enough to find my One True Critique Partner (OTCP) Jessi Elliott on Swoon Reads' 2016 Critique Partner/Beta Reader match-up post (#BeMyBeta) which is similar to Maggie Stiefvater's Critique Partner Love Connection post from last year.

School looks like it's going to be hard on me for the next few weeks, but I do have a weird February break (that no other school seems to have), so maybe I'll have time to finish implementing Jessi's editing notes... but probably not. Either way, I'm using all my spare time to work on this project. Though I am going to have even less spare time now that I'm hoping to become a costume assistant for one of the shows on campus (please wish me luck!).

I know you're not all waiting for The Belgrave Legacy (but I hope many of you are). If you're not, you're probably waiting on any of the numerous book ideas (some of which aren't even listed yet) that I will write after I'm done with this WIP. So, where does this leave you, my readers?

The short answer (regardless of which above category you fall into): Still waiting. Sorry!
​
I hope this news makes it better: I plan to have this book out on Halloween 2016, but will need many more advance readers starting in late June (more likely early July). So keep an eye out for that request! In the meantime, have fun reading my blog posts and story ideas (and adding them to your Goodreads shelves).

P.S. Sorry for the infrequent blogging. The problem is my school load is usually demanding, with interspersed periods of absolute chaos. A goal for the future (probably starting in March) will be to blog more regularly.

P.P.S. Check out Swoon Reads' instagram post about the aforementioned CP/Beta matching:

Finding a great critique partner to help with your writing/revision process can be harder than finding a significant other. We at #SwoonReads want to play matchmaker and help you find your OTCP! Click the link in our bio for more info! #BeMyBeta #write #writer #amwriting #writingpartner #books #bookstagram

A photo posted by Swoon Reads (@swoonreads) on Feb 5, 2016 at 7:45am PST

My Top 5 Reads of 2015

I've kept no secret about how much I love Eve: The Awakening. Why would I? The author is an amazing cyborg of sass (see Jenna's Youtube Channel filled with writing advice).

Eve, the main character, is a kick-ass heroine of a new breed (literally—she's a Chimera). She's not weak in any sense, her sarcasm is after her creator's and my own heart, and there is NO instalove of any kind.

Jason, the male main character and love interest, is totally swoon-worthy and has his own developed character arc (he's in no way just a pretty face or rich kid).

You can read my complete fangirl freakout review of Eve: The Awakening.

Read a Preview | Add on Goodreads

​Buy on Amazon | Buy on Kindle I've been a fan of Wendy Higgins since I heard about this series on Figment back in 2012. If you're new to Wendy's world of angels, demons, and nephilim, you can read my review of Sweet Evil (Book 1) before adding it on Goodreads and buying it (Paperback | Kindle). Don't forget to buy Sweet Peril (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle) and Sweet Reckoning (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle) before moving onto this companion book because it has spoilers for the original trilogy. It's a lot of reading, but it's ABSOLUTELY worth it.

Kaidan Rowe is my favorite bad boy in any YA romance I've ever read, not just within the paranormal genre. And you may think that's a bold claim (clarification: it is), but he totally deserves it. You can read my slightly incoherent review of Sweet Temptation—It's not my fault Kaidan makes me crazy. It's who he is/what he does. Even Anna, the main character agrees that he merits the extra T in HOTT. (P.S. you can follow Kaidan Rowe on twitter).

And the chance to be inside his head and see how he viewed the trilogy's events? Priceless. Not actually, it's about $10, but no one said a book addiction was cheap.

Convinced yet? Go get  Sweet Temptation (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle). I will admit, as much as I love the dystopian genre (I'm writing one for God's sake), I've become a bit weary of the category after reading the Hunger Games (my review) and Divergent trilogies. You can also read my article about the appeal of the genre.

When Lan Chan emailed me and asked for an honest review in exchange for a free copy of Poison, I jumped at the chance. The description sounded so unique and the story didn't disappoint. A true page-turner, I was scrolling so quickly my mom asked me to take a break because she was afraid I'd induce a headache. And of course, like any good story, there were surprising twists and turns that successfully surprised me (a hard task to accomplish).

You can read my  full review of Poison and buy it online (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle). The first book I read from Swoon Reads, and definitely my favorite of the bunch, Velvet imbued new blood into the oversaturated and deadened genre of YA vampire romances. Too much Twilight and Vampire Diaries can really wear a girl out! I unfortunately didn't have time to write a review on here yet, but I will add it to my To Do list and get on that soon.

The characters, plot, and humor were a breath of fresh air. The premise pulled me in immediately, and kept me turning pages from start to finish! And also, it may be superficial, but... the cover is pretty​. I'm so excited for the rest of this series (the author is writing the sequel, Cashmere, now and you can vote for a character name on her website).

Buy Velvet today! (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle) As an author, I'm always reading books to help me write better, but I've read so many of those types that I've started reading ones about one area that I've always had trouble with: Writing quickly and effectively.

I've read about 5 in this category so far, and I consider 5k Words Per Hour (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle) to be the best one so far. There's a 2nd book in the series called Lifelong Writing Habit (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle) and an iPhone app (sorry non-Apple customers).

I've found it super helpful and highly recommend it. Chris Fox's advice is written in an organized, concise, and easy-to-follow format. The app itself has definitely helped me put the written advice into practice and that's what matters most.

​I would recommend getting all 3 (both books and app) to get the best experience. Happy writing! Bonus Favorite Another author-y book I loved was Beth Revis' Paper Hearts. It's the first in a 3-book series of writing, publishing, and marketing advice. Believe me when I say it is JAM-PACKED with writing advice. If this book had been out earlier, I would have been able to save a lot of time (and money) from reading other, less helpful writing books.

Buy Paper Hearts: Some Writing Advice (Vol 1) now (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle)!

Buy Paper Hearts: Some Publishing Advice (Vol 2) now (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle)!

Buy Paper Hearts: Some Marketing Advice (Vol 3) now (Goodreads | Paperback | Kindle)!

And again, happy writing in the new year!

P.S. Today I found out I just won Beth Revis' HUGE giveaway for this series (cue excited fangirl scream here). I was SO surprised (and obviously psyched) when I got the email today. :D
What were your favorite reads of 2015? Comment Below!

OneWord365 2016

click for more entries I've been meaning to make an announcement for a while, and since it's time to pick a new word, I figured I would kill two birds with one stone.
PART 1: Recap of "2015: Write" (no special order) I did a lot of rewriting of  The Belgrave Legacy I "finished" The Belgrave DaughterI "finished" Tears of an Angel & ProphecyI  made it 1 book & rewrote it to be more cohesiveI started revising it again 

Second, and this is the main part: next semester may give me even less time, but I'm going to work hard on  using my freetime productively to finish another draft of (and here's where I come back to the above bullet point) ... one of my WIPs (any of the first 3 ones, or maybe one of the Fearful Fairytale stories). See, the thing is that right now, I have so many ideas in my head, but they're not as focused as they usually are. I need direction and then to sit my butt in a chair and write. Even though I have "publication dates" listed for most of my stories, they're not set in stone. At all. Well, the days are, not the years. So, yeah... You may have noticed that the covers have been shuffled on the Novels page, and that's because I think it's best I take a step back from my paranormal romance and work on something else. And that is why I'm asking YOU, my audience: I have a feeling The Belgrave Legacy will already be delayed until next year or even later. Who would've thought that life would keep getting in the way of me sharing Fawn and Caleb's complete story? But that's how it goes.  Luckily, I do have until January 12 to do some writing as I'll be on Winter Break until then (I'll also probably be sleeping a lot of that away though because I'll be having 2 more wisdom teeth removed and the drugs make me tired).

With all the stuff I'm dealing with above, it's clear that I need to concentrate on what I want and then go for it. Which is why my 2016 word for OneWord365 is ... What are your New Year's Resolutions and/or OneWord? Comment below and don't forget to vote above. Happy holidays and a great new year!

Blog Tour: Casquette Girls

click for scheduleAbout the BookTitle: The Casquette Girls
Author: Alys Arden
Publication Date: November 17th, 2015
Publisher: Skyscape
Genre: YA Paranormal/Fantasy

Seven girls tied by time.
Five powers that bind.
One curse to lock the horror away.
One attic to keep the monsters at bay.
​
                                                                             *
After the storm of the century rips apart New Orleans, sixteen-year-old Adele Le Moyne wants nothing more than her now silent city to return to normal. But with home resembling a war zone, a parish-wide curfew, and mysterious new faces lurking in the abandoned French Quarter, normalneeds a new definition.

As the city murder rate soars, Adele finds herself tangled in a web of magic that weaves back to her own ancestors. Caught in a hurricane of myths and monsters, who can she trust when everyone has a secret and keeping them can mean life or death? Unless . . . you’re immortal.

Website | Goodreads | Kindle | Paperback | HardcoverExcerptCHAPTER 1
On the Road
October 9th
 
The day had finally come.
 
Elation coursed through my head, my chest, my stomach—until the tips of my fingers tingled, as if the sensation were trying to escape the confines of my nervous system.
 
My father and I were finally on our way home.
 
Trying not to let the anticipation drive me crazy, I leaned back in the passenger seat and took deep breaths, inhaling the scents of worn black leather and bubble gum. The combination reminded me of sitting in the front seat as a child. I’d always been up for a ride in my father’s prized possession because I knew there’d be a sugary pink stick waiting for me in the glove box.
 
The city wasn’t exactly encouraging people to come home yet, but my father had always been a bit of a rebel. This fact, topped with endless nights of me begging and pleading, had finally made those four little words slip out of his mouth: “Okay, let’s go home.”
 
As soon as he caved, I fled the Parisian boarding school where my French mother had dumped me while my father and I were “displaced.” She didn’t tell me good-bye, and I never looked back.
 
I landed in Miami late last night, and we were on the road by six this morning. I didn’t want to give my father the chance to renege.
 
Ten hours later, we were still purring down the interstate in his 1981 BMW.
 
But I didn’t mind the long drive. In my sixteen years, I’d never been away from my father for that long. I’d never been away from New Orleans for that long either. It felt like years since the mandatory evacuation, but in reality it had only been two months—two months, two days, and nine hours since the Storm had touched ground.
 
The Storm was the largest hurricane in US history. Scientists were still debating whether it should even be considered a hurricane because it had smashed all previous classification parameters. They didn’t even name it. Everyone simply referred to it as “the Storm.” Economists were predicting it would end up being the greatest natural disaster in the Western world, and there were even rumors flying around that the federal government was considering constituting the area uninhabitable and not rebuilding the city. That idea was incomprehensible to me.
 
The media was all over the place about the devastation. We’d heard such conflicting stories there was really no telling what would be awaiting us (or not awaiting us) upon our arrival. Had our home been damaged, flooded, ransacked, robbed—or any combination of those things? Was it now just rotting away? I fiddled with the sun-shaped charm hanging from the silver necklace that nearly reached my waist, wrapping and unwrapping the thin chain around my fingers.
 
My phone buzzed.
 
Brooke  3:42 p.m. Are you close? Text me as soon as you get home. I want to know everything, ASAP! xoxo.
 
I quickly pecked,
Adele 3:43 p.m.  I will! How’s La-La land?
 
I didn’t exactly have a laundry list of close friends, but Brooke Jones and I had been attached at the hip since the second grade. The Joneses had been stuck in Los Angeles since the evacuation, and Brooke was freaking out on a daily basis because her parents were adjusting to the West Coast lifestyle at an alarming rate. Even the thought that her parents might permanently relocate to California made me cringe.
 
“Waffle House?” my father asked as we sped past the Florida state line into Alabama. He proceeded down the exit ramp before I could respond.
 
A bell dinged when I opened the door of the infamous southern chain, causing all of the employees to shout a welcome without looking up from what they were doing. My father headed to the bathroom, and I jumped into a booth, grabbing a napkin to wipe pancake-syrup residue off the table.
 
“I’ll be with ya in a second, darlin’,” a waitress yelled from across the narrow, shoe box–shaped diner.
 
Johnny Cash blared on the jukebox, the air reeked of grease, and the fluorescent bulb in the overhead light gave everything a sickly tint. I couldn’t help but chuckle, thinking about the stark contrast of this scene to my life just two nights ago: sitting in a café on the Champs-Élysées, eating a crêpe suzettes with my mother. Well, I'd been eating a crêpe. She’d never allow herself to eat something as appalling as sugar.
 
Midchuckle, I caught the gaze of a guy sitting solo in a booth across the aisle, who was slowly stirring a cup of coffee. Our eyes locked. My cheeks started to burn. I grabbed a menu so I could pretend to focus on something and let my long waves of espresso-colored hair fall in front of my face, trying to recall the last time I’d taken a shower. Ugh. I’d been in transit for more than twenty-four hours at this point.
 
I lifted my eyes to find him still looking intensely at me.
 
He was probably a few years older than me . . . and far too sophisticated to be sitting in this particular establishment among the tall hairdos and flip-flops. His black leather jacket was not the biker kind you might find in any diner in the Deep South—it was softer looking, trendier, possibly custom-made. The jacket, along with his dark, slicked hair, made him appear part James Dean, part Italian Vogue. For a split second I forgot where I was, as if stuck in some kind of Paris–Alabama time-continuum hiccup.
 
When I realized I was staring at him again, I became instantly flustered. His eyes didn’t move, but the corners of his mouth slowly spread upward into an innocent smile. Or maybe it was deceptively innocent? Just as my heart began to speed up at the prospect of finding out, my fork slid across the table, flew halfway across the room, and clanked against his ceramic mug.
 
“Sorry!” I covered my face, mortified, and considered crawling underneath the table. I’d been so caught up in the moment I hadn’t even noticed myself flick it.
 
“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll bring ya a new one,” the waitress yelled.
 
As if I was worried about the fork. I’d nearly taken out the eye of the hottest guy within a fifty-mile radius. My heart pounded melodramatically.
 
When I finally mustered the courage to raise my head to catch another glimpse of him, all I saw was his mug on top of a ten-dollar bill. Realizing I’d been hiding my gaze from no one, I became even more embarrassed.
 
Of course he ran. I am obviously hazardous.
 
“You okay?” my father asked as he slid into the orange leather booth.
 
“Yep, the jet lag must have just kicked in,” I blurted out, “but I’m super excited for cheesy eggs.”
 
“I thought you hated American cheese?” he asked suspiciously. “You always called it plastic.”
 
“Yeah, well, I guess something becomes more desirable when you can’t have it.” There were certainly no American-cheese-like products in France.
 
We ordered and then sat in silence while we waited for our food. My father turned his head to stare out the window. I knew he was too nervous to ask me about Paris, and I was not going to readily volunteer up any information. It was weird to spend your entire life with someone, be suddenly separated for two months, and then reunite. It felt strange that it felt strange being together.
 
Luckily the food came quickly, and soon he was polishing off a stack of waffles, while I forced myself to choke down eggs smothered in plastic cheese.
 
“How about I drive for a while?” I asked as we headed back to the car. “How about I drive and you study?”
 
“Why should I study? Technically, I’m not even enrolled in a school right now.”
 
“You are enrolled in a school right now, Adele . . .”
 
I unintentionally slammed the passenger door after getting in.
 
“You are technically still enrolled in Notre-Dame International.” He pulled out of the deserted parking lot and in his best I-am-serious voice added, “And if we get to New Orleans and find out you can’t get into a local school, you’re going to be on the first plane back to Paris. Back to school. That was the deal.”
 
“I am not going back to Paris.” I didn’t care what I had previously agreed to. “Je déteste Notre-Dame International! Je déteste Paris!” I said in my most dramatic French accent, but I stopped myself before I said something about detesting my mother. Those were words he certainly would’ve understood. But he had only himself to blame for my speaking French; he was the one who’d forced me to take private lessons since I was five—a year after my mother had skipped town—as if my ability to speak her native language might bring her back.
 
“I can’t believe you shipped me off there in the first place. I belong here, not with rich kids in boarding school. Not with her.”
 
My eyes began to well up. I knew my reaction would upset him, but even the thought of having to go back to Paris made me want to jump out of the moving car and run away.
 
He didn’t know what to do or say next, and soon the old Bimmer filled up with awkward tension. The slightest sign of teen-girl tears made Macalister Le Moyne uncomfortable. My father always tried his best to be paternal, but it never really seemed natural for him, not even after all this time of it being just the two of us.
 
He patted my hand. “Don’t get upset. You know school comes first.”
 
I’d never once heard him say anything bad about my mother, but I could tell he felt relieved that I’d fight to stay in New Orleans with him instead of returning to her in Paris. He was simultaneously terrified and proud that I’d inherited his rebellious streak rather than her need for refinement.
 
Ever since I could remember, my father lived with a perpetually tired look. He’d inherited the ever-popular bar Le Chat Noir from my grandfather around the same time my mother left us, making him an artist-turned-business-owner and single parent all at once. Since then, he kept mostly nocturnal hours, waking midday to give himself enough time to work on sculptures and furniture in his metal shop before going back to the bar. Now he was unshaven and a bit shaggier than usual, appearing to have aged a few years in the last couple of months, just like all the other displaced citizens of New Orleans.
 
The Storm had been peculiar, not just because of the suddenness with which it had grown but because its target had been so unexpected. The day before it hit, the Storm was a routine Category 2 hurricane—not something to shrug off but something people knew how to handle— predicted to make landfall somewhere around Galveston, Texas. Eighteen hours prior to hitting land, the hurricane unpredictably changed course and headed straight for New Orleans.
 
Trying to clear the city with such short notice caused total mayhem. We ended up evacuating to Miami with a few of Dad’s bartenders, never dreaming we’d be gone for more than a few days. But before the Storm left the Gulf of Mexico, it tipped the Saffir-Simpson scale, and once it hit land, like most folks upon arrival in New Orleans, it didn’t want to leave. We watched in horror as it hovered.
 
And hovered.
 
And hovered.
 
All we could do was stare at the TV and wait for our unwelcome houseguest to take a hint.
 
That was before the levees broke and turned the city into a fishbowl.
 
When reality kicked in and we were suddenly unable to return home for an undetermined period, my father decided I would be better off in Paris with my mother than in Miami with a bunch of vagabonds looking for bar work. I wasn’t sure if he really believed that or if he’d just cracked under post-Storm pressure; either way, he shipped me off to France as soon as he managed to get in touch with her. As far as I knew, that was the first time they’d had contact in the twelve years she’d been gone.
 
I refused to let the tears fall as I looked out the car window.
 
I’m not going back to live with her. I won’t let it happen. New Orleans is my home.
 
Even thinking about going back to Paris made me immediately self-conscious. Up until eight weeks ago, I’d always thought of myself as just a normal teenager—not the head-cheerleader type but not the type to be shoved into lockers either. I did pretty well in school but was certainly not in the running for valedictorian. Besides rebellion, I’d also inherited my father’s artistic tendencies, but (to my curatorial mother’s high-art dismay) I channeled them mostly through designing clothes. Despite all of this, I’d hardly tipped average by Parisian standards. During the last two months, I couldn’t have felt more plain, more uncultured, or more passé. My Parisian classmates were like ballerinas in six-inch heels, born to analyze haute couture and recite Baudelaire, making my skinny jeans and DIY dresses seem childish and unsophisticated.
 
I sighed and attempted to push the French memories out of my consciousness: the sparkling Eiffel Tower, the macarons from Ladurée, and most of all Émile.
 
My stomach twisted.
 
I definitely didn’t want to think about Émile. Not the way his slight smile always made me wonder what he was thinking. Not his Vespa or ’iz stupid, sexy accent.
 
Pathetic, Adele. You didn’t mean anything to him. He’s just your mother’s assistant.
 
The car went over a bump, and I realized trying not to think about Émile was actually making me think about Émile. Ugh.
About the Author Alys Arden was raised by the street performers, tea leaf-readers, and glittering drag queens of the New Orleans, French Quarter. She cut her teeth on the streets of New York and has worked all around the world since. She either talks too much or not at all. She obsessively documents things. Her hair ranges from eggplant to cotton-candy-colored.

One dreary day in London, while dreaming of running away with the circus, she started writing The Casquette Girls. Her debut novel garnered over one million reads online before being acquired by Skyscape in a two book deal. Rep’d by ICM.

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