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Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Saturday, January 5, 2013

#GBE2: Wish

My GBE2 blogging group asked us to post on the topic of "Wish," so here goes. 

I want to publish a novel. Not self published or blog published, but set to print by an editor or a respected house. Caroline Kooney's first eight books were never published; plus, the average writer takes ten years to make their dreams come true . . .  or nightmares begin. I'm not sure how many years I've been writing, but I guarantee it's under ten, and I'm only working on my sixth manuscript. Here's what I've written in order of completion.

I made a Lulu cover.
1. The Friendship Puzzle (MG) - An experiment in novel writing that's missing a plot. Who needs a plot when I've got the gorgeous John Katou and the bubble headed tween who loves him? Okay, this one will never be published, and I dare confess that I did clog a few slush piles with this piece of trash. Sorry if it ever landed across your desk.

2. Don't Eat Chipmunks (MG+) - A promising camp story about a boy lost in the Rockies with his two worst enemies and an injured counselor. The boys must learn to work together or die as my novel did when the Sydney Taylor people were offended by my portrayal of Jewish camp. Sorry guys, but the "Anaf Boys Choir" really did sneak out at night in their underwear to sing Silent Night and the memory was too good not to write about.

3. Being Bompsy Carleffa (YA) - This masterpiece about Ben, a kidnapped mob teen thrust back into his previous world, is filled with roller coaster suspense, action, and clever characters. However, it's also been rejected more than any novel I've written. One agent reported that my main character was "too funny for the trouble he was in." I can't help it! Every time I write, funny pops out. There's got to be a market for it somewhere. It works for Gordon Korman.

The Godfather
4. The Killer Who Loves Me (YA) - This is the sequel to my unpublished Bompsy where Ben finds himself conflicted by the thought that he may actually "like" his criminal father. At least this one does not have multiple rejections. Furthermore, I started the third book in the series but stopped midstream when I read about not writing sequels to books that aren't published. I guess Ben can rest assured that he won't be shot at or beaten until someone picks up Being Bompsy Carleffa.

5. Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts (MG) - Coddled loser meets Mohawk boy who teaches him to be cool. I wrote this one with the guidance of two published authors telling me what works and what doesn't. I even cracked myself up by getting a kid's head caught in a hand dryer and shooting his spittle across bathroom tiles. There's got to be a market for a kid dealing with a helicopter mom because I've met so many of these overprotected babies.

6. Work in Progress (YA) - I named it Finding Miss Forester only to learn about a movie with a similar title. Dang! I'd never heard of the movie, but I guess my title must change. This is the story of a rambunctious seventh grade boy who spies his first-year teacher crying after another one of his many stunts pulled on her. Overwhelmed with guilt, he decides to behave, but instead, he has a rotten sub to deal with. Did he make Miss Forester quit? No. She's in deep doo doo after whistle blowing on a former boss, and Caleb will get sucked into her problems once I get my act together.

There you go bloggy friends––my wish waiting to be granted. And to think, you knew me when.

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Monday, October 1, 2012

#GBE2: Exploring POV

As a writer, I love the challenge of taking a short scene from my WIP and changing the POV, but I wonder if there is any harm in posting this scene. My manuscript has not been sold, or even queried yet, but I will be in the process of sending it out this month. Would a future agent or editor object to my 250 or so words being published on my blog? I hope not.

Charlie Brown and my little Knob have a lot in common.


I'm in the habit of writing everything in first person, so it was a fun challenge to convert a scene to third; however, the first paragraph was not too different, so I didn't even bother to repost it.



Here is a first person scene from MRS. ZIMMERMAN'S DONUTS:


Slater’s mom pulled a chisel-shaped knife out of its top drawer and leaned her head back. With the precision of a surgeon, she gently slid the blade downward until it disappeared into her throat. Next she thrust it out with one gigantic swing. Blood covered the blade while red liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes rounded as her lips curved into a smug smile. She winked at me! Blood gushed out of her mouth, and she winked! While the room spun in oval circles, I couldn’t decide if she was crazy or if I needed the loony bin.
When a thick, red droplet dribbled down her chin, I squeezed the back of a chair and stepped backwards. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I worried that I might hurl at any moment.
“You’re b-bleeding.” I gripped the chair with my other hand too until my knuckles turned as white as Mom’s had when she drove me home after I’d gotten in trouble the other day. “Hospital. We need to t-take you to the h-hospital!”
Slater, Calfie, and Mrs. Slatker laughed so hard tears filled their eyes.
“What are you laughing at? I think she’s really hurt!” I plopped into a chair, put my elbow on the table, and leaned my head into my palm. “I don’t feel so good.”
“It’s fake, Knob,” Slater said in between chuckles. “She squirted fake blood in her mouth!”



How about a brush with third person?
 
Mrs. Slatker winked at Knob, whose face had transformed to a mixture of ashen and green. He squeezed the back of a chair and placed a wobbly foot behind him.  Spastic churning bloated his belly in an achy, sick sensation.
“You’re b-bleeding.” Knob gripped the chair with his other hand until his knuckles turned white. “Hospital,” he said. “We need to t-take you to the h-hospital!”
Slater, Calfie, and Mrs. Slatker laughed so hard tears filled their eyes.
“What are you laughing at? I think she’s really hurt!” Knob plopped into a chair, put his elbow on the table, and leaned his head into his palm. “I don’t feel so good.”
“It’s fake, Knob,” Slater said in between chuckles. “She squirted fake blood in her mouth!”


Sunday, February 5, 2012

#GBE2: Upset

Today's GBE2 topic is "upset," which if not done correctly could be a downer. Not feeling like posting a blah-blah-life-sucks piece, I present you with excerpts from three of my unpublished novels.

No real people have been harmed in the writing of these stories.

Hope you have a laugh!

From: Don't Eat the Chipmunks by Joyce P. Lansky
 
      Last night, me and the guys tiptoed to Adam’s bunk where his chlorine-bleached hair spread across his pillow in a do like a dead chia pet's. We played dot to dot with his freckles--just in case he wasn't dorky enough already. When he got up, the kid scrubbed his face pink but still looked like a road map.
 
Was Adam upset? Of course not because I didn't write him that way.
 
From: Being Bompsy Carleffa by Joyce P. Lansky

            Gil placed tomato-based soup in front of each of us. When I blew and sipped it off my spoon, I was shocked. Cold soup? All this money, and these people can't heat the soup?
            Do you like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked. 
             I dropped my spoon on the table. Why would he mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sure, doesn't everyone like murderers? Sick. This guy's really sick! 
 
Yes! Ben was upset, but he stays upset throughout the novel. What do you expect? His dead dad turned out to be an alive mobster who has kidnapped him.
 
And finally, in case you haven't read enough, here's a little something from my WIP (Work in Progress).
 
From: Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts by Joyce P. Lansky
 
Slater’s mom pulled a chisel-shaped knife out of the top drawer and leaned her head back. With the precision of a surgeon, she gently slid the blade downward until it disappeared into her throat. Next she thrust it out with one gigantic swing. Blood covered the blade while red liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes rounded as her lips curved into a smug smile. She winked at me! Blood gushed out of her mouth, and she winked! While the room spun in oval circles, I couldn’t decide if she was crazy or if I needed the loony bin.
When a thick, red droplet dribbled down her chin, I squeezed the back of a chair and stepped backwards. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I worried that I might hurl at any moment.
“You’re b-bleeding.” I gripped the chair with my other hand too until my knuckles went as white as Mom’s had when she drove me home after I’d gotten in trouble the other day. “Hospital. We need to t-take you to the h-hospital!”
Slater, Calfie, and Mrs. Slatker laughed so hard tears filled their eyes.
“What are you laughing at? I think she’s really hurt!” I plopped into a chair, put my elbow on the table, and leaned my head into my palm. “I don’t feel so good.”
“It’s fake, Knob,” Slater said in between chuckles. “She squirted fake blood in her mouth!”
“The blade’s fake too.” Mrs. Slatker placed the knife on the table then wiped her mouth with a paper towel. The knife had a squeezable handle and juice filled holes on the blade. “Sorry to scare you, but we like our little jokes around here.

If you are an interested agent or editor, feel free to contact me.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Silly Sunday: Writing Faux Pas

For this week's Silly Sunday at Rhonda's Laugh Quotes, I've searched the internet to bring you some funny works of... well you'll have to figure that out.




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From House of Figs, I bring you a few of the 56 best/worst similes.

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.  

 You may find 54 more of these at House of Figs.


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Or how about these from Anomalous Anonymies. These goofs were shared by English professors at Capital Community College.

You always new when he come in the room because of the smell of his strange colon.

In the end he was a rear image of his grandfather. 

You may find more at Anomalous Anonymies.


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If you visit Terribly Funny not only will you find funny comics and photos like the one above, but also a list of funny newspaper headlines such as:

 Iraqi head seeks arms
 
Enraged cow injures farmer with ax

For more funnies, visit Terribly Funny.


Sunday, November 20, 2011

#GBE2: Laughter

The theme of this week's GBE2 post is laughter. The first thing that came to mind was that delightful song from Mary Poppins. When the movie hit theaters in 1964, my mom wouldn't let me see it because, "I couldn't sit through a movie." Having never been to a movie, I pictured tall seats that one had to balance on or you'd fall off. Why else could I not "sit" through it? Eventually I saw reruns of Mary Poppins on cable, and this scene is awesome.




Laughing from a movie is great, but the best kind of laughter is the home-spun-something-funny-just-happened type. As a teacher, nothing beats making a class laugh. It satisfies my unfilled dream of being a stand up comic. I also hope to make kids laugh with my writing. According to Bruce Coville, that's easy. You just need to include the magic words: fart, pooh, underwear, toilet, and what was the other? Excuse me, I'm having a Rick Perry moment.

At my ten-year high school reunion, we all folded up when reminiscing  about sixth grade. When anyone was feeling playful, they'd whisper "underwear" and everyone within earshot would crack up. underwear. Underwear. Underwear! UNDERWEAR! Are you laughing yet? If not, congratulations. You've made it out of the sixth grade mentality.

As for farts, my son said it best in eighth grade, "When we were in sixth grade and someone farted, it wasn't funny; but now, it's hysterical!" Here's the proof. Boys become less mature with age. Although in reality, an occasional fart in an odd setting can still make adults cackle.

Sometimes laughter isn't good medicine. I'll never forget my husband making me giggle after surgery. He didn't realize how much his jokes hurt until I cried from laughing. Then there's the old, "Don't make me laugh or I'll wet my pants." Who has never leaked from more than just the eyes when something was funny?

She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named recently told us a story about not being able to hold her pee when laughing. (Pee-that's Coville's other magic word!) She was at a neighbor's house playing a game called, "Naked City." All the little girls took off their clothes and sat around laughing. Unfortunately, laughter led to wetting the neighbor's carpet. She never told her friends or the neighbor's Mom what happened. All I can say to that is POOR Cocoa! I'm sure that black lab got a bawling out for that one.

I leave you with another great movie. This scene from Singing in the Rain makes me laugh every time I watch it.


Sunday, July 24, 2011

#GBE2 Summer

This week's challenge is to write about summer or our favorite thing. What's the difference? Being a teacher, nothing's better than ten weeks of blessed summer vacation. I look at it like New Years as I resolve to accomplish tons over the summer months. Believe it or not, I am now entering my last week of vacation so here's a reflection of my goals and accomplishments: pfft!

(1) This summer I had planned to exercise, diet, and shed unwanted weight. Reality: I sat, ate, and gained a pound or two. Blame it on eating out and vacationing, especially since we traveled everywhere by car. I clocked a full week butt sitting in four wheeled vehicles. Sometimes driving, sometimes sleeping, sometimes stuck in traffic--especially in Birmingham. Once I got my act together with a running regiment, I got strep and couldn't swallow. Achaha! That's when I lost weight. At least I can now go back to work no fatter than I was before.

(2) I was going to clean my house. The first step was to vacuum dog hairs. I did. The next day, more dog hairs covered the rug. With three dogs (two of them goldens), vacuuming is as worthwhile as shoveling snow in a snow storm. So the house is still dirty, but what do you expect? I can barely wash my toes, you think I'd be washing windows? Plus there's a mysterious white substance raining into the corner of our porch. Future Wordless Wednesday Topic: Identify the Substance.

(3) Of course I was going to get my novel in shape and send out queries. I've made a little bit of progress on Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts, sent one Bompsy query to an agent, and nothing in the magazine department. So I can still brag that I have the best book that's never been published. Even a friend of mine told me she couldn't sleep because she was so worried about poor Bompsy. She stayed up reading my manuscript late into the night . . . but the agents and editors don't want to hear that.

So basically summer's over and I've accomplished next to nothing, which means it was a darn good break. Since I told you what I didn't do, you'll have to listen to this video if you want to know what I did do during the last nine weeks.


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Sunday, July 3, 2011

#GBE2 Challenge: Wretched Life



Great Rental Place
We have a most unique challenge with the GBE 2 group, and as a writer, I'm certainly up for this one. Write a 100 word fiction story. I'm all on it, with the exception that I've cheated a little by taking a story I wrote some time ago and cutting it down, but what do you want? I'm vacationing in Charleston. Today, I even tried a paddle boat for the first and last time. After falling into the Charleston Harbor, I decided to swap it for a kayak. Then I went up Shem's Creek where two playful dolphins jumped in front of my boat.

Here is a story that has nothing to do with paddle boating, kayaking, or Charleston, but I hope you like it anyway. It can't be over 100 words, including the title. Really, Beth? "You're killing me Smalls."



Ballymote Castle


Wretched Life
by
 Joyce Paull Lansky


     Jeremy followed the tour under a familiar tapestry suspended in the banquet hall. He’d been fascinated by fourteenth century Ireland. Now, he was there!

     Staring at a cauldron, he felt certain he'd eaten scraps of honey-covered mutton from the Master’s platter. Worse, he'd slept nude on hay-covered dung while the Lord and Lady enjoyed a cozy pallet; but, being naked was better than wearing insect-infested tunics.

    After climbing slyly-constructed, irregular steps that circled a stone column, he ducked under the wall's arrow slit. Jeremy cringed from the memory of the arrow that had ended his wretched past life.


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Saturday, July 2, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Ouch!

It's been over a month since I've participated in Six Sentence Sunday, but I'm glad to be back with an excerpt from my Work in Progress (WIP), Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts. Knob has just met his friend Slater's mom for the first time, and he's not used to adults playing tricks.



Slater’s mom pulled a chisel-shaped knife out of an antique cabinet's top drawer and leaned her head back. With the precision of a surgeon, she gently slid the blade downward until it disappeared into her throat. Next she thrust it out with one gigantic swing. Blood covered the blade while red liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes rounded as her lips curved into a smug smile. She winked at me! 





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Friday, June 17, 2011

Meet Knob

Jeannie Campbell is hosting a blog hop and contest about getting to know our characters. So please meet the main character of my Work in Progress. Then you may buzz over to her site and meet other fictional people. How To Connect With Your MC


Knob's formal name is William Donald Donellson, but he received the nick name of Knob after Slater announced that his shaved hair made his head look like a door knob. Knob is a respectable name for an amazing, tough soldier. Unfortunately as the butt of the fifth grade, Wimpy Will has never felt like a tough anything.

Thanks for the interview. I'll answer the questions as best I can because I always do.

Question 1: What is your greatest fear? 

Gee, that's a tough one because I'm scared of everything. My brother died from falling off a bicycle and bleeding to death. I know, it sounds weird, but he had a disease called hemophilia and the doctors couldn't save him. Although I don't have the disease, you'd think I did by the way my mom hovers over me. I guess I'm scared of getting it. They say it's hereditary, so what happens if one day I catch hemophilia, start bleeding, and can't stop it?

Question 2: What is your biggest accomplishment?
I'm smart. Two years ago I won my age group in The Under the Arch Chess Tournament. I almost won again last year but a girl named Haley beat me. She's the only one who can beat me at chess, and I'm a little knock kneed at the thought of going up against her this year in the ten-year-old's category. Okay, I confess, I kinda like her, so scratch out my answer to question one. I'm most afraid of Haley--which is probably why I lost the tournament.
 
Question 3: What is your biggest regret?

I regret letting Randy bug me all the time in class. He always bullies me, but I've never stopped him because I'm kinda chicken. If I tell him to leave me alone, he might punch me, make me bleed, and do it in front of Haley. So on second thought, I guess I'm most afraid of Randy Butcher.

You didn't ask me what's been bugging me, but I'm going to tell you anyway. No one has gotten to meet me because my author has not gotten my story into query shape. It needs a lot of revisions. Here's the start of my story, MRS. ZIMMERMAN'S DONUTS by Joyce Paull Lansky. If you like it, tell your agent or editor friend about her because I want to be famous. Err, maybe not. It might be scary.



Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts


            Every Friday after school, Harrison Zimmerman invited popular boys—not me, over for a stupid end-of-the-week celebration. His mom, the best chef in St. Louis County and co-founder of Zimmerman’s bakery, would fry up homemade donuts dipped in thick chocolate sauce. My mouth watered as we drove down Aberdeen Avenue and I breathed in the scent of those gooey pieces on a bed of powdered sugar.            
By the age of ten most guys had wolfed down seven-dozen pastries or more, but I’d never even tasted Mrs. Zimmerman’s donuts. I convinced myself that it was because my mom would’ve fallen into a tantrum at the thought of me swallowing anything slightly junky. She usually made a fuss over eating healthy as if my gut would explode if the tiniest bit of sugar or grease tickled my insides. But the real reason I’d never eaten the donuts—the fact that bothered me even more than Mom’s obsession over food, cleanliness, and safety—was that Harrison had never asked me to come to his stupid party. Actually, no one had ever invited me to go anywhere; but things were about to change.
  

That's what's been bugging me, but it's okay. Slater moved to town,
and he's going to help me be cool. See ya later.   ❧ Knob
                                                                


Friday, May 20, 2011

Joy Oh Joy

Joy oh joy!

It's May, and the last day of school is closing in. Not that May is a picnic. Kids want summer to begin and their behavior shows it. However, I just heard that the world is going to end on Saturday. That would be a bummer because I wouldn't get my summer vacation, so the world can't end just yet.

As for summer plans, I haven't got any. I'll just enjoy sleeping late, writing, blogging, and maybe even sending out those queries. Eventually I'll clean my house. I may even remove the cobwebs from that stack of books waiting to be read. If I don't want to get dressed until noon, so be it.

I will also attend teacher sessions to get a jump on those required during the year. If any of them offer pay, I'm all over it.

Joy oh joy! It's my favorite time of year!

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Cetus the Whale (Six Sentence Sunday)

Here's another six sentences from Being Bompsy Carleffa, my unpublished YA manuscript for the Six Sentence Sunday at http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com. After Ben's kidnapping by the mob, Sarah and Austin are searching for him by studying clues from the internet.

            “During study hall, I conducted further research on the Carleffas.” Austin looked like he’d discovered a cure for Cancer or better yet, found Ben. “They’re worth sixteen billion dollars—claimed money anyway; they probably have more hidden in overseas accounts since their accountant’s a crook with a criminal record as long as Cetus the Whale.”
            “Long as who?”
            “Huge constellation with a M77 that has an active galactic nucleus,” Austin said.
            Since I didn’t speak nerd, I had no clue what he was babbling about, but that didn’t stop Austin from continuing in his excitement.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Snowdruff #AtoZ #atozchallenge

"Making Snow" By, Erica Lansky
I don't like to poke fun at my students, but one former pupil's antics are just too good not to write about. The young man came charging to the teachers with an excitement in his voice that can only be heard in children. "I can make it snow!" he said.

And snow it did. The boy leaned over the pavement and scratched his head causing multiple flakes to fall onto the ground. After he produced a heavy snow storm, a crowd of children gathered around him to see if they too could make it "snow." But alas, no one else's hair was quite that snowy.

For your video enjoyment, here's a clip from the Breakfast Club. Watch Ally Sheedy make it snow!




Tune in tomorrow for the letter T = "Taunting Siblings."






Monday, March 14, 2011

Organizing Your Writing

I have a friend who has literally walked around for two years with an idea percolating in her head without writing a single word until the entire novel is structured and ready to go. Then there is moi. The ultimate pantser. I've tried some pre-planning for my novels but find it cumbersome, and I rarely stick to my plans anyway.

Currently, I'm enrolled in my second course at the Institute of Children's Literature with an instructor who pressures me to plan. This has been difficult at best. True, I've mapped out my work in progress (WIP), but I find myself veering away from those plans as my fingers tap the keyboard.

It's interesting to have readers sometimes comment on how they love my characters yet wonder if they are ADD. I hadn't planned them that way. :o



Recently I attended Mark Diamond's workshop on teaching writing to kids and found myself walking away with tips that are even helpful to someone like me. http://www.anyonecanwrite.com

I especially found his WOW line useful. Here's what you do:

(1) Draw a horizontal (hamburger) line across a sheet of paper.
(2) Divide said line into three equal parts. These parts represent the beginning, middle, and ending of your story.
(3) Place a star between the middle and ending of the story. This is your WOW moment. That's right! The one place where the most exciting thing happens.
(4) After jotting down your idea for the WOW moment, return to the beginning. What happened a little before the WOW moment?
(5) Next write an ending that sums up the WOW moment. You could even work out some sort of connection between the beginning and the ending because you now know what you are going to do.
(6) Finally, fill in the missing pieces of your story.

Voila!

Mr. Diamond has several books available on his site, and I was pleased to have had my school purchase all four of them for me. I especially like the one about Narrative Writing.

Being a certified pantser, I had to try this technique on a recent Monster Challenge. The competition called for a five-hundred word story about a human slaying a monster. I don't know if I'll win, but I've gotten a lot of positive reviews on my piece.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Funny Scenes in Every Day Life

After I ventured into the restroom at Cosco, I headed out with a great new idea for a comedy scene that I've since added to my work in progress (WIP). It all began when I stuck my hands into the automatic hand dryer, and I thought what would that goofy kid Slater do with this device? Next I knew, I was laughing out loud at my keyboard.

The $1,000,000 question: Do you think my scene is funny?

“Cool, Knob! Look at this.” He pointed to an automatic hand dryer with two silver slabs that faced each other. The top part had a section that curved outward to allow room for a guy to stick his hands inside. A bright yellow line did a crappy job at trying to make the machine pretty.

Slater lowered his hands into the drying machine and caused a deep swooshing sound to fill the bathroom. The motor yelled so loud, I could barely hear him speak.

“What if a guy’s hands don’t fit in this thing? I mean if he weigh six-hundred pounds or something, his fat hands ain’t fitting in here!”

“Not many people weigh six-hundred pounds.”

“But what if he some sumo wrestler or a super hero? Some guy with big old hands that wrestle alligators; he gots to dry his hands too!”

“Maybe there’s a way to push these panels out.” I patted the bottom of the machine for some sort of lever but didn’t find anything. That wasn’t good enough for Slater. He lifted his hands out, leaped onto the floor, and nosed up under the dryer. I couldn’t help but think of all the dirt on a bathroom floor.

“The floors filthy. Get up.”

Slater ignored me. “Here it is.” He flipped some kind of switch and the panels spread outward.

“I need it to dry my hands. Hope it still works.” I lowered my fingers into the dryer. Even though the panels were further apart, my hands got dry. I just had to move them around more. After I pulled them out, I rubbed the back of my dry hands.

“Hey, Knob. Watch this.” Slater lifted himself to his knees and put his head into the machine. The engine roared and noisy air shot out of the panels. The skin on Slater’s cheeks wiggled back and forth like a bulldog shaking loose jowls. As Slater giggled, he must have hit something because the panels moved inward and snapped. Slater tried to move his head out of the machine.

“It stuck, Knob. I is stuck!” As Slater opened his mouth, the dryer caught his spit and sent droplets catapulting across the bathroom floor. The inside of his cheeks ballooned out wide enough to use his face as a parachute and his eyes squinted to keep the air out. A smoky smell filtered from the machine. “Find a knob, Knob. Get me out of here!”

“Let me get help.”

“No-o-o! Some manager dude come in here and he yell!” Slater must have shouted so he could be heard over the roaring motor. “Look below! There a lever down there. Pop it!”

As much as I hated being on that dirty floor, I got on my knees and looked around for the lever. Finally I found it and freed Slater. When he stood up, his cheeks glowed red and his once centered Mohawk had shifted to the left side so that it shot out of his head like a one horned elk. Singed hair lined the tip of his Mohawk.

I hope someone will find this scene funny; but if not, I had a blast writing it!

Monday, January 31, 2011

Author's Notebook

I always keep pen and paper next to my bed just in case I wake up with a brilliant idea or unique dream that might prove book friendly. After all, something about sleep often brings about plotting solutions or new ideas.

Last night, my mind painted an odd scene that could easily become the back drop to a fantasy novel. Of course I've never written a story about other worlds, but I jotted down the scene just in case. This vivid and original world may one day house a troubled teen running from mobsters, a lost kid, or a team of nasty girls. Who knows what I'll be writing in the future--floating moons in reddish-pink skies? You never know.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Between Shades of Gray

I know I haven't posted in a while, and my last blog discussed the colonoscopy, but something new and wonderful is upon us come March 1. Ruta Sepetys will be releasing her first book, "Between Shades of Gray," and it's already proving to be a winner. Check out Kirkus' review: http://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/childrens-books/sepetys-ruta/between-shades-gray/

I'm talking about a beautiful and heart-wrenching story about Lina, a Lithuanian teen, thrust into a brutal environment by the henchmen of Joseph Stalin in the 1940s. Between Shades of Gray is a story of survival and love found in overly harsh conditions. This book reminded me of a classic like Anne Frank and is destined to go far!

Stalking the Bookshelves is giving away an ARC of this book at http://stalkingthebookshelves.blogspot.com/2011/01/arc-tour-between-shades-of-gray.html

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Character Suffers After Crash

My computer crashed and wiped out my precious writing. I’d used an external hard drive, but it had given error messages and I procrastinated fixing it. Although I'd saved the most important items, I lost a partially written first draft of my third book of a series. I'd quit working on it when I read about not writing sequels to unpublished books. This would have been the second sequel. It was rough and poorly written but the start of something that could’ve been big.

The manuscript began with Ben swimming with his latest squeeze Lucy. Next, his crime family had done their usual No-No maneuvers so he was forbidden to leave the house; but, he'd promised to take his girl to a Leaf Jet 8 concert. My boy disobeyed and snuck out. Right before the computer crashed, Lucy had ditched him for the lead singer of her favorite band and Ben was lost in a deserted neighborhood with someone shooting at him.

Although in the original, he escaped bullet wounds, I’m in the mood to up his angst. Having to rewrite from scratch makes one ready to throw the wrath of God (or the author) at the helpless victims (the characters).

I don’t know what will happen to Ben, but after the crash, I guarantee it won’t be pretty. Maybe this is God’s way of getting authors to abuse characters.

6/26/11

Turns out, I found a copy of the original manuscript and Ben was saved from a severe shaking up! Whew for him.