I was gone all weekend...here's a contest!! (Not mine, of course.)

That's right. I was gone ALL weekend...Friday, Saturday...I even missed SUNDAY FUNDAY!!! (which I know just breaks all of your hearts.) But I promise I have a good excuse, because Saturday was my birthday! I've now been on this planet for a quarter of a century. And yesterday was my husband's birthday! So between all that partying, eating cake, and watching disappointing movie reenactments of my favorite novel of all time (more on that in a later update), I just didn't have time to say hello to my blogging friends. I'm so, so sorry. I will be posting a real update later, but for now, a peace offering...

The wonderful and fabulous Shannon at Ramblings of a Wannabe Scribe is having a contest! Go enter it! Win books by Lisa Schroeder! And follow her blog, because it's awesome, hilarious, and I've learned a lot from her.

Teens Don't Talk Like That! On Vocabulary in YA Lit

As I mentioned in a previous post, I've been listening to the Shiver audio book during my short commute to work, lunch break, and any other small stretch of time I have. (Totally unrelated to this post, I am liking it more, but still not loving it.) A day or two ago, I was parked by the water, munching on my turkey and pepperjack sandwich and listening to the book, when I heard Grace say the following sentence:

"I poured the odoriferous milk down the drain."

Later, when my car died, I had to rewind a bit to find my spot, and found myself replaying parts of the book I'd already heard. And that word, odoriferous, bothered me just as much the second time as it did the first time.


Why? Don't get me wrong; it's a great word, and totally appropriate to the situation. But Shiver is told from a first-person narrative, and, well...teenagers just don't talk like that! (Seriously. Have you ever been to a high school? Or the mall?)

"But wait a minute Heather!" I can hear you all saying. "Grace DOES talk like that. She's intelligent and likes to read non-fiction books, so it's totally in her character for her to use a word like that!!!"

Sure. Except the whole I'm-an-intelligent-teen-so-I'm-going-to-use-big-words-when-I-narrate has been done before. Over and over and over and over.

The first time I read a book where the teenaged narrator's vocabulary was noticeably beyond the level of a normal teen was actually my favorite book of all time: Youth in Revolt (coming out in theaters tomorrow, where I'm sure Hollywood has totally destroyed it. Even if it does star Michael Cera.) Youth in Revolt is told from the perspective of 14-year-old Nick Twisp (in fact, he's 13 when the novel opens), and yet he uses words so advanced that I literally found them on my SAT (I'm not making this up. I was re-reading the book for the 18,000 time the morning of the SATs and found no less than three words on the test that I had encountered in the book. I even wrote my college entrance essay, which was supposed to be about a book that changed our life, about Youth in Revolt, and mentioned the SAT thing. I got in with a scholarship.)

My copy is currently out on loan so I can't quote any passages, but I remember Nick using words like "nebulous," "sobriquet," and "torpid." He also uses phrases such as "wank your winkie" "more than usually horny" and "T.E." - short for thunderous erection, so he loses a little credibility in the intelligence department. But the entire book is written in the form of Nick's journal entries, and I never for a second doubted that Nick used those words every day. C.D. Payne told me he was intelligent, so I believed it. End of story. (This is still one of my favorite books of all time, and seriously hilarious.)

Then I started reading more YA, and found the phenomenon of teenagers using vocabulary well beyond their years was everywhere. Twilight's Bella uses some ridiculous words to descirbe Edward - but it's OK! She learned them from Austen and Bronte. And even my beloved Jessica Darling (and the sexy Marcus) uses some words she probably shouldn't know, but she's a writer, so it's justified. (admittedly, most of the people around her are pretty stupid and talk/act that way. Ohmigod, OTB!) 

This is the problem with writing a YA first-person narrative. If you want to use advanced vocabulary, you have to make the readers believe that your character would know that vocabulary. You can't have your character be the stupidest person in school, failing all their classes, then have them describe the myriad challenges of being an oafish dullard. Their voice has to remain constant not just when they talk to other characters, but when they talk to the reader, as well.

Of course, if you want to get around this problem, write in third person. I prefer first person because I love to get inside one character's head, but that's just me. I guess then I'll always be stuck with the wise-beyond-their-years type, or at least smart enough to have good vocabulary. Because no one wants to read a book that's, like, totally OMG, the best book EVER about my bff Jill!!!! J/K. I totally, like, would never write a book like that. (Of course it's possible to write a first-person narrative that isn't like this, but still makes you believe the character could really be a teenager. I was convinced by Katniss, and by the few passages I read of Ever. Still, Katniss doesn't really count, because she lives in the future, and since I haven't read all of Ever's story I don't know if she ever slips into some unbelievable vocab.)   

What do you think? Does it bother you mean teens use vocabularly that seems too good to be true? Or do you just suspend your disbelief and keep reading? 

How an Innocent Comment led to My DEAL WITH THE UNIVERSE

OK, I've done it. I've officially decided on my DEAL WITH THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!! (Imagine that in a big booming, echoy voice.)

What is a deal with the universe, you ask? It's the semi-embarrassing thing I'm going to do when my book finds a publisher. For references, see Frankie's this crazy person's deal with the universe, or Shannon's deal with the universe. (Seriously, Frankie's deal is honestly pure insanity. I mean, isn't it every writer's dream to get a three-book deal? But would you videotape yourself washing a car in a bikini, then post it on the Internet for the whole world to see if you did?? Maybe if you were built like Frankie you would, but my size 10 butt is staying in jeans, thankyouverymuch.)

I knew the day would come when I would have to make my deal. But I had NO idea what to do. I'm very good at embarrassing myself, but it usually comes about in a very natural way. So unless I kept a camera on me 24-7, I really had no clue what to do. I briefly considered turning it over to you, the readers, for suggestions, but I've seen how evil you can be, and I didn't want to take any chances. I figured it would come to me one day when I was least expecting it.

Boy was I right.

Today I was commenting on Frankie's most recent blog post (in case you couldn't tell, I love Frankie's blog), and said:

I agree with Sarah, but at the risk of involving myself in the blog wars and having to, I don't know, sing a song I wrote inspired by my WIP or something equally embarrassing, I'm not going to actually DARE you to do it, just say that I really, really, really want you to...and maybe offer a strong HINT to Shannon.

 I wrote that italicized bit (italics added here for emphasis) on a whim when I was trying to come up with something someone would dare me to do. My mind did a mental scan of my house, and I thought of the dusty old guitar that's been sitting in my closet, untouched, for a few years now. My husband plays his guitars, so I keep mine around in case his breaks (because I know we can't afford to buy another one), but I've moved on to other ventures. Every so often I'll pick up his six-string and bang out a few chords, but I always just laugh at myself and put it back down. I'm a writer, not a musician! This is ridiculous.

And then it hit me: what a perfect deal with the universe. Moderately embarrassing, so the universe will see fit to give me what I want, but still completely doable. I've written songs before (and they've all been awful and cheesy), so I know it can be done. And that settled it.

So...*ahem* (Universe, I hope you're listening!)

I, Heather, promise to write and record (possibly in a vlog, if I have that technology by then) a song inspired by my book when the Universe sees fit to give me a book deal. 

Ugh. I can feel the calluses forming on my fingers from hours of practice already.

Seriously, I know like three chords...G, Em, and D. Oh, wait, I know C, too. So that's four.

Now all I have to do is finish editing, get it out to my critique partners, edit some more, have some more people look at it, edit a little more, query, fail, query, fail, lather, rinse, and repeat, until I finally succeed. By which time hopefully you all will have forgotten about this post.

Just a quickie! (And a contest!...but not mine)

Edit: After titling this, I realized that apparently I don't really know the meaning of a "quickie." Hm...

First thing's first: Sara at The Babbling Flow of a Fledgling Scribbler is having a pretty cool contest. You should sign up! You should also follow her blog, because it is awesome. (And if you do follow her blog, and it's because I said it was awesome, then please let her know that I sent you, because I really want to win The Dark Divine. Like, really. And I could always use some more books on craft (especially since I'm currently editing my first draft...eek!)

Speaking of that whole editing thing....it is very time-consuming, this book editing. I have hardly any chance to read the pile of library books I have, not to mention the nine 25-page manuscripts I have to read by January 18 for my conference. But I'm plugging away, and things are going...OK I guess. This is the first time I've done this, so I have no benchmark to say if this is easier or harder than the first novel I edited. Plus the MC for my next novel just won't get out of my head. (LEAVE ME ALONE, JULIE ALONSO/HERNANDEZ/OROPESA. I HAVEN'T EVEN SETTLED ON A LAST NAME FOR YOU YET, CLEARLY IT'S NOT YOUR TURN, AND IF THINGS GO WELL FOR KAIA YOU MIGHT HAVE TO WAIT SEVERAL YEARS, SO STFU.) But it's fun. The aforementioned Sara inspired me to start keeping all of my deleted scenes in a separate "deleted scenes" file, so now I'm doing that. It's going to be depressing at the end to see how much ends up on the cutting room floor, but ultimately I might get a kick out of it.

Since I can't actually read a novel that isn't for my workshop/crit, I've been listening to Shiver on audio on my way to and from work (literally a 10 minute commute. I also ate lunch in my car yesterday, but I parked by the water so I didn't feel too lame.) I'm still on the fence about it. The writing is beautiful, if occasionally overflowery, and I love the alternating narrative (and my narrators are AMAZING). The author definitely handles that well. But Grace and Sam haven't pulled me in as characters yet, and their story isn't exciting yet. I'm only about halfway through, though, so we'll see. 
 
In other news, my amazingly talented graphic artist friend (who is probably reading this right now and blushing/laughing that I'm even mentioning this) has agreed to take time out of her busy winter vacation from school to design me a new blog layout! Hooray! I'm very excited for this, and you should be too. Having talented friends is amazing, and when she gets married maybe I'll awkwardly read a weird poem about love or something.*

And finally, I realize that I live in Florida and have no right to complain, but our heat doesn't work and it's 50* inside my house. Considering that we normally keep it around 78*...Typing hurts my fingers. If anyone buys me these, I will be your BFF. Kthanksbye.

#BacktoeditingIgo**

*I'll take random Sex and the City reference for $500, Alex.

**Because, of course, #hashtagsareawesome

Why I love the delete key

Everything was going great tonight. I came home from work, snuggled on the couch with my dogs, and watched a few episodes of Arrested Development on DVD took a nap in front of the TV before booting up my laptop for another night of revisions to my WIP.

Of course, before I got started on my book, a little thing called REAL LIFE got in the way, and my pleasant life turned into a total crapfest. An email here, a reality check there, and before I knew it I was in a BAD MOOD.

My husband tried to console me. My doggies tried to cuddle me. Even M&Ms couldn't do the trick. The only thing that made me feel better was editing my WIP.

My characters are way luckier than I am. They get a delete key. Sure, bad stuff still happens to them...admittedly way worse than the stuff that happens to me. But their fates aren't totally sealed until my book gets published. Until then, people can rise from the dead, boyfriends can decide not to cheat on their girlfriends after all, and that cute girl across the street can turn out to be just a normal chick instead of a crazy psycho demon spawn intent on destroying all of mankind.*

And even when the bad stuff stays around, at least it sounds pretty. In real life, someone getting suspended because they did something bad at work (not what happened to me, at all. I'm a mostly model employee.) might sound something like this:

We're disappointed in you, Bob. Take the rest of the day off, without pay. Come back ready to work.  

But in my WIP, that scenario sounds like this:

“But,” he interrupted me, “you must work in the allocation room for one month to make up for your crime, and to help you detach yourself from this miserable regard you have for life. Life would not exist without death – the sooner you realize that, the better.” He looked me over one last time. “You will also be suspended for the night, without pay. Come back tomorrow, to the allocation room.”

 Clearly, things are way cooler in novels. So when I'm having a bad day, I'm going to edit my novel - I can't revise my own life, so I might as well revise someone else's. 

*These events may or may not be pulled from my book. Mostly not. Kaia really is too busy for a boyfriend, and if she had one, he'd be too busy to cheat on her. Plus then she'd kick his ass. 

Sunday Funday! (and New Years Goals)

Happy Sunday, everyone! (And Happy 2010! Side question: Are you saying Twenty Ten or Two-thousand Ten? Some customers asked me last night, and I'm doing a little informal research to find out).

Before I post my Sunday Funday links, I want to make sure everyone's seen my entry for the no-kiss blog fest, which I wrote and posted yesterday! The event, hosted by Frankie at Frankie Writes, was a HUGE success, with 76 writers participating! My scene is funny, so I think it counts as a Sunday Funday entry. Anyway, it got some good feedback, and there are some other amazing scenes out there, so I just wanted to draw everyone's attention to the event.

And now...the links that I'm sure you all care about very, very much, and anticipate seeing all week! Here are some of the posts from around the blogosphere/Web that I found particularly entertaining this week:

Janet Reid cracks me up, but also intimidates me a little. If I was writing something I actually thought she'd be interested in (she doesn't do sci-fi YA, and my book takes place in the future, so...), I'm still not sure I'd query her, because she is so full of awesome snark that I'm terrified at the type of response I'd get. Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels this way.

Speaking of Janet Reid ... After a long hiatus, Query Shark posted three new queries this week! Here is my favorite. Seriously? And on the same note...another author who doesn't know how to behave (again, from Janet Reid).

Ever wonder why characters in YA literature go right from kissing to having sex, and skip all that "stuff" in between? So did the First Novels Club, in another wonderful post in their series on YA characters and the ways they don't act like normal teens.

No amount of words can describe the sheer awesome that will be found if you click on this link of the most commonly misspelled words, so I'm providing a photo preview to entice you (trust me, you want to click on that link). Special thanks to Julie from Book Hooked (and my book club!) for the linkage!

Last week's Sunday Funday had a link to a story Shannon wrote when she was a kid, entitled Earth Had a Snack. I felt it was only fair, this week, to include the video reenactment.

And now, something I've been meaning to do for a few days but kept getting distracted, my 2010 New Years Resolutons/Goals (well, the writing ones anyway...you people probably don't care that I'd like to have a smokin' hot bod by the end of the year).

1. Save up for a new laptop (possibly/preferably a MacBook). Acquire by March.
2. Write/edit at least 1,000 words every day.
3. Attend two writing conferences. (I felt like I needed to say two, since I'm already scheduled for one.)
   
4. Finish editing The Reaper's List my current WIP completely so that it shines and sparkles. (4a. Find a good title for my WIP)
   
5. Start querying. Hopefully acquire an agent.
   
6. Begin work on first draft of next, unrelated project.

I think that's all for now. That seems like a doable list, right? I wanted to make one that was just "Acquire an agent," but I feel like that is partially out of my hands, and I hate failing. So I just gave myself a little addendum to number 5. If I think of more, I'll add them later.

Happy New Year, everyone!

No Kiss Blog Fest!

You all might remember the kissing day blog fest from a few entries back. Well, Frankie decided it would be a good idea to do a no-kiss blog fest, where we all celebrate the almost kisses in our WIPs! I thought it was a great idea, and signed up as soon as I heard (I'm the sixth name on the list!).

But then I realized the dilemma...I don't have any almost kisses in my WIP. Apparently, I like to just give my characters whatever they want. (Actually, it's really because there aren't that many kisses there to begin with, for reasons I can't really explain here because I harbor delusions that people care about spoilers.)

So...what to do? I wanted to participate, and I couldn't let Frankie down...plus I was already signed up! So I decided to write a scene just for the occasion! The characters are from what I thought would be my next project, but will most likely be the project after that, as I now have an idea I love for my next project, and can't give up on it now. (Of course, this is all assuming my current WIP, which is a planned series, doesn't get immediately picked up by the most fabulous agent/publisher ever.) Everything that happens is so them, I might just end up putting it in that WIP anyway.

I was also going to include my New Years Resolutions in this post, but the scene turned out rather long, so I decided not to. So tune in for that tomorrow.

And now, without further ado...the worst first date imaginable...my scene for the #nokissblogfest!

________________________________________________

     

“I had a great time tonight,” Marshall said, gazing at me from the driver’s seat of his green Lexus. His eyes glistened in the light of the full moon. He had chosen an oldies station to set the mood, and Frank Sinatra was crooning through the stereo.

“Mm,” I replied, shifting uncomfortable in my seat. Ugh. Only a few streets until my house. I could hold out that long, right?

This should have been the perfect date. I’d had my eye on Marshall Fuller for months. He was intelligent, charming, cute in that geeky sort of way that I just can’t get enough of, and exceedingly polite. All night, he had been opening doors for me, and he refused to let me pay the bill at dinner or even buy my own ticket at the movies. When he picked me up four hours ago with a bouquet of roses – roses! – in his hands, I thought I must have walked into a dream.

But somewhere between the Indian restaurant and the previews for the coming attractions, that dream had turned into a nightmare. Who knew my favorite meal could turn against me? Usually, spicy chole hit the spot. But tonight … Thank goodness the romantic comedy we’d wanted to see had been sold out, and we’d opted for an action movie instead – plenty of explosions and loud gun fire to mask the sounds coming from my lower intestine.

“Are you alright? You look a little pale.” We’d pulled up to a stop sign, and Marshall was giving me a worried expression, a furrow forming between his eyebrows that made him even more adorable. WHY was this happening to me?!

“Fine. I’m fine.” I gave him a half-hearted smile, and he seemed satisfied. Talking was impossible. I was sweating, but somehow also pocked with cold Goosebumps along my entire body. How was that possible?

           

 “So, do you want to get a coffee or something?”

Yes. “No, thanks. I’m pretty tired."

“Well, that’s why you drink coffee. It wakes you up.” He looked at me, a devilish smile playing across his lips. God, those lips…

“No, really. Thanks though. I think just…take me home please.” It was getting worse. It felt as if someone was turning my stomach into knots, then stabbing it repeatedly with a sharp object. I needed to get out of this car. Now.

 “OK, if you’re sure.” The disappointment in his voice was evident, but I was beyond caring at this point. I needed the bathroom, and I needed it now.

 It wasn’t until Marshall turned onto my street that I remembered – the speed bumps.

 My neighborhood was so concerned about speeding cars that, in flagrant disregard for my emotional and physical well-being, they lined my entire street with gigantic speed bumps. Ten huge hills to torture me before I reached the conclusion of this never-ending nightmare.

As Marshall’s car lurched over the first one, my stomach began bubbling and gurgling. Immediately, I turned up the radio in a preemptive strike.

 “I love this song!” I said, blasting the volume as loud as I thought reasonable. And just in time – as Dean Martin reached his vocal climax, my intestines burbled loudly. I clutched my stomach and glanced at Marshall to see if he’d noticed, but he was humming along happily with the song.

After nine more agonizing mini roller coasters (for both the car and my stomach), Marshall finally pulled into my driveway. My hand was on the latch of the door before he’d even turned the car off.

           

“Thanks for a great night!” I said, opening the door. Finally, relief was in sight.

           

“Wait!” He called after me, his head popping over the top of his car. “Let me walk you to the door!”

           

 As he sprinted around to meet me, I wondered why I hadn’t seen this before. In an ideal world, this is exactly how our first date would have ended. He would walk me to my door, whispering romantic notions in my ear, then swoop me toward him and plant a passionate kiss on my lips. But for the past few hours, I hadn’t been thinking about anything but getting out of this. Now, the thing that I had imagined for months and months, the thing I had daydreamed about and scribbled in my pathetic journal about, the thing I had always hoped would happen was finally a reality, and I was going to shit – literally – all over it.

           

 Marshall took my hand and led me to the door. I bit my lip, trying to take deep breaths and keep myself calm. How long could a kiss really take? Thirty seconds? An eternity?

           

 “Jenn … you are so beautiful.” He ran his fingers through my curls, but they didn’t get caught like I expected them to. He continued moving his hand down, tracing the lines of my cheek and my neck, caressing my shoulder, brushing his fingers lightly across my back and sending a new kind of cold sweat running down my spine.

           

I closed my eyes, knowing exactly what was going to come next. As he leaned into me, I felt his breath on my mouth, hot and fresh – when had he eaten a mint? My stomach fluttered, and his lips grazed mine, just barely, when-

             

Grrggrrgtt. Another deafening gurgle from my stomach as its contents shifted, but this time there were no explosions on the big screen or singing Rat Packers to drown out the noise. Just me, Marshall, and the silence of the night. Maybe a few tree frogs.

             

Marshall pulled away, and both our eyes shot open. The look on his face was a mix of horror and amusement. Without a word, I spun around, and in one fluid movement, grabbed my keys from the front pocket of my purse, unlocked my door, and ran inside. __________________________________________

So, there's my scene! Happy no-kiss blog fest (and New Year!) everyone! And don't forget to check out the Mr. Linky list of other bloggers participating, and add your own scene, too!