Enjoying Life with 3 Dogs, 2 Kids & an ADHD Husband.

As some of you may know, I’m eyebrow-deep in revisions right now for Demon Guard, with serious hopes of finishing the main stuff before NaNo starts.  So, in the interest of procrastinating whipping my muse into shape, I’ve come up with a little blog post.  It’s a list of the Top Ten Reasons Why Revisions are Better than Sex.  Feel free to add your reasons as well, and procrastinate whip your muse right along with me.  Giddy-up!

10.  You don’t have to get naked to do revisions (Although, you can if you want–just be sure to switch your webcam off first.)

9.  Your revisions don’t care if you pause in the middle of the action to check out Glee or Gossip Girl.  I mean, it’s Chuck Bass!

8.  Performing revisions in your favorite coffee shop will not result in you being booted, arrested, or getting latte with extra froth in unmentionable places.

7.  The satisfaction of a good revision won’t wear off in, say, five minutes.

6.  You won’t feel bad about eating that extra piece of chocolate cake before jumping into revisions.

5.  Your children can be present during revisions without fear of scarring them for life.

4.  Multiple partners can help with your revisions—and you won’t be labeled kinky.

3.  You can curse your revisions with as many creative obscenities as you like, and it still won’t affect your chances of getting lucky with them.

2.  The only way revisions will result in an expanding belly is if you pig out on Haagen Dazs Dulce de Leche and In-N-Out burgers while writing.

1.  You never know—the perfect revision may lead to a long-lived and prosperous career.  The perfect sexual encounter?  Not so much.  Unless said career involves thigh-high boots and a tube top.  (Okay, so maybe the second career is more prosperous, but still…..)

Now, quit being so productive and take a moment to name yours!

So, I’m writing a book review today based on a challenge I saw posted on a friend’s blog.  No, really–it’s not because I was too lazy to get a Teaser ready.  Ahem.  Anyway, I saw the challenge on Amy Bai’s The Purple Patch, and I guess it originated from Lisa and Laura Write.  The challenge is to write about a book you read and loved.  Wow–finally a challenge I can meet!  Short, sweet, and something I love to do—blab about books!

So, because my attention span rivals that of a gnat (although, do gnats have attention spans?  Or brains, even?  And hence we see my short attention span at work) I pretty much only read Young Adult novels these days.  While there are so many great ones to choose from, the novel I’m going to spread some love to is:

Story of a Girl by Sara Zarr   I really can’t say enough good things about this book.  The author tackles a sensitive subject–a small town, thirteen-year-old girl who’s caught having sex in the back of a car with a seventeen-year -old by her dad–and turns it into something both funny and profound.  Two years after the incident, Deanna Lambert still struggles with other people’s perceptions of her–most notably, her father’s–with wit and angst and the occasional bad choice.  The story chronicles how one moment can define your entire life—if you let it.   

I love the voice in this book, how it’s not preachy at all, and how it shows Deanna ultimately conquering her past and her fears to move on with her life.   The humor isn’t over-the-top, but sly and perfect. Oh, and did I mention–it’s a National Book Award Finalist?  To me, Story of a Girl represents contemporary YA fiction at it’s finest.  Don’t pass up an opportunity to read it.

Now, with my gnat-like (or brainless-like–did we decide yet about gnats and brains?) attention span, I’m off to surf Greek fanvids on YouTube procrastinate on writers forums learn how to hand roll pasta work on my revisions.  Um, wish me luck?

Um, yeah–this next snippet came out of pretty much nowhere.  I was working on revisions last night, and BAM!  ending up writing  this instead.  I’m thinking it’s my brain’s way of procrastinating.  Just posting it for kicks and giggles.  Cheers!

Trista Bailey’s blond ponytail swung with just the right amount of enthusiasm when she bounced down the halls.  She clutched her pristine purple notebook to her chest, laughing that tinkling laugh that made everyone flock to her like brainless ducks.  Her jeans managed to be relaxed without looking sloppy, and her cream-colored shirt seemed to repel stains—even on spaghetti day. Her metal-free mouth never called anyone names—not even Bobby Stiffey.

But none of that mattered. I didn’t care if everyone at school—in the whole county, even—thought Trista could poop new kidneys for babies. I knew she was a big fat fake.  Like Mama always said—nobody is that perfect.  And it was my job to prove it.  Even if proving it would make me the meanest girl in all of Hobblesworth, I was going to bring Trista Bailey down.

Right after I finished mastering fractions for my sixth-grade math test which, at the rate I was going, would take at least a century.  Lucky for Trista I sucked at math.

I’m doing another Teaser Tuesday today! (Okay, if you must know–it’s still Monday in West Coast time. But, hey, for most of you it’s already Tuesday–that counts for something, right?)  This scene features one of my favorite characters from my trunked novel Tainted:  Justin.

Set-up:  The MC is trying to recover from a karaoke fiasco a few nights ago, where she inadvertently tapped into her growing powers to enthrall the frat boys into love zombies while singing.  Most of the effect has worn off, except for the random guys still knocking at her door late at night, declaring their love for her.  Justin is a sort of mysterious character, a guy with strong mental powers, who seems a little odd and has questionable motives.  He’s an old acquaintance/friend of the love interest, the MC’s Protector Logan.  Beyond that, the MC doesn’t know much about him.  In this scene he just randomly shows up for a visit in the middle of the night.

By the time the third night after the karaoke-debacle rolled around, I was done.  At the first crack of a fist on my door, I staggered out of bed and stumbled to switch on my desk lamp, squinting into the harsh light.  Whoever was out there was about to get a lesson in the principles of harmonious dorm living.  Rule number one being:  if you pounded on my door after midnight, I had free rein to kick your ass.

Whatever loitering moron awaited would be un-enthralled tonight, if I had to cut off his head to do it.  Between the enthrall-ees and the nightmares, sleep was becoming a distant memory.  Really not okay.

          I stalked toward the door, the icy wooden floor pulsing goosebumps up my legs.  I was about three feet away when I heard an unexpected noise:  the lock clicking.  A millisecond later, the door burst wide open.  I shrieked and jumped back, grabbing a hair brush off my dresser for protection.

And then my grasp on the hairbrush loosened when I saw who it was.  Justin.  Leaning casually against the door frame, like nothing was amiss.

“What, is there a sign out there that says AM-PM market or something?  Believe it or not, I am not open all night for business.  And I so did not just say that,” I moaned.  It wasn’t my fault, though.  Who expected anyone to function at their finest at—I glanced at the mocking digital glow from my dresser—1:23 a.m?  It was bad enough that the love zombies kept knocking after midnight.  Now I had to deal with a strange and possibly half-crazy Gifted guy as well?  

 I whirled around and stomped back to bed, plunking myself down before glaring over at him.  I chucked the hairbrush at my dresser with a satisfying crack.  “Look, I don’t know on which planet you learned proper etiquette, but here on Earth, we like to wait for people to actually answer the door.  You know, before we just go ahead and burst in using our special Gifts.  And what the hell am I saying?”  Argh.  I desperately needed sleep.  Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently so, because Justin strolled into my room, as though 1:00 am was a perfectly acceptable time for a social call.  “Sorry—I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”  He pivoted my desk chair around and straddled it with annoying grace, crossing his arms over the top and resting his chin on his fist.

 “Yes, and there would have been a good reason for that.  I.  Was.  Sleeping!” I said.

 I didn’t know if it was lack of sleep, cheap dorm light bulbs, or some whacked out magic that lit his sardonic blue gaze with a suddenly appealing gleam. “Well, see?  That’s why I went ahead and opened it.”

“OH!”  Something was whacked, all right—him.  I clapped my hands to my cheeks and squeezed my eyes shut.  “I give up,” I finally said.  “Please, just tell me why you’re here, so I can go back to sleep. Sooner versus later would be nice.”  I sagged back against the wall and hugged my knees to my chest, reaching down to pull the snugly comforter over my frigid toes.

“Okay,” he said calmly, obviously not perturbed in the slightest by my outburst.  “I was just thinking—since you spend so much time training with Logan, it puts him at a  bit of an unfair advantage.  So I thought I’d remedy that by coming by.”

I eyed my warm pillow with wanton longing before turning to address him.  “Huh?  What are you talking about?  What unfair advantage?”  And then it hit me—why was I even trying to have a logical conversation here?  The guy was an absolute loon.  “Oh my God, did you really come here in the middle of the night just to start spouting crazy?  Because, sorry, my mind only comprehends loony rants after nine o’ clock a.m. and about three cups of coffee.”

His forehead creased. “I’m not spouting crazy.  I’m talking about the possibility of our futures being linked.”

Loon or not, he had my attention now.  Unfortunately.  My mouth gaped open and I blinked several times. “Say what?”

“Logan hasn’t told you anything?”  He seemed perplexed, which was odd for Justin.  Usually his repertoire of emotions ranged from “bored” to “slightly less bored”.  Not that I knew for sure—I couldn’t read him at all, and quite frankly, I was okay with that.  There was no telling what insanity was going on in his pretty but demented head at any given time.

“Um,” I said, “if by anything you mean linked futures and unfair advantages, apparently not.”  And it still sounded like crazy spoutage to me.

First off, I wanted to apologize for the tweet blog-post thingy. Obviously, I’m a little challenged when it comes to  mastering my Twitter Tools.  I wanted my tweets to show up in the side-bar, not become girnomic blog posts of their own.  Because, you know, I realize most folks don’t come here to read earth-shattering stuff like “Go Sooners!” and “Beer Bad, Fire Pretty.”  Even if the Sooners are pretty cool.

Anyway–I’m excited to announce that I’ve just joined an awesome crew over at the OPWFT blog, or Old People Writing for Teens.  No need to know that I call us the geezers writing for teens.  Oops.  Let’s just say, some of us are more geezerly than others, and leave it at that.  (Cough, me, cough, cough).

All of the contributers to OPWFT are aspiring Young Adult authors who post about–you guessed it–Young Adult books.  We often interview published YA authors, and also rant chat about topics dear to YA.  So swing on by sometime and check it out, if you get the chance.  Most recently, we’ve been posting about the American Library Association’s Banned Book Week.

Cheers!