My Personal Lifetime Movie... and Our Next Author Interview

Good morrow, yon readers! (See, I told you the writing conference worked.)

Bree Despain finally gets to show off her new book cover for The Dark Divine, so check it out!

Contest Status: Okay, so since the contest officially ended at midnight last night, that left me with no time to procure Smokey the Hairless Cat to pick the winner, so I will announce the winners Wednesday. Cool? Cool.

Again a big thank you to all the people who participated. The procreating bunnies didn't stand a chance. In fact, their latest batch of bunnies were born sterile, so, way to be intimidating, blog readers! We're sterilizing bunnies in our quest to take over the world! (Although I don't think that should be made into a bumper sticker or anything...)

And to those who thought about participating, but at the last minute didn't, because you think I can be temperamental and ornery (for some reason, I had to spellcheck both of those last words) I have the following to say to you:



Shannon Hale status: I finally met Shannon Hale in person; she was signing books at The King's English independent booksellers. (I've exchanged emails with her before- my agent Ted works at the same agency as hers). Also (Did you noticed how I used a semicolon?) My punctuation (rocks!)

Back to Shannon, what a cool girl. To kick off the signing, she and her husband sang "Islands in the Stream" karaoke in front of the crowd. Talk about not letting fame and fortune get to her head.

BLOG FART
My sis-in-law E said to me at lunch on Saturday, "I have no idea how you keep coming up with stuff to talk about on your blog." I laughed and shooed away the idea with a wave of my hand.

But then I thought about it. And thought about it. Hmm.... I have no idea either. Is this a problem most people face? Staring at the computer on blog day with nothing to talk about? Absolutely nothing?

And then I let it get to me. The fear. What if I run out of things to say? What if I can't think of anything funny? What if I'll never be funny again? Was I ever in the first place? (Don't answer that.)

You can probably guess what happened next: performance anxiety. This morning, I sat at my computer, with absolutely nothing of interest to say. Zip. Zero. It reminded me of that Garfield comic strip, where Jon informs Garfield that cats can't walk on their hind legs.
















I didn't know it was hard until someone told me. And now, FACE-SPLAT. I have nothing to say. I will never have anything more to say. I've blogged everything.

On that note, it's time for another author interview. Emily Wing Smith (author of The Way He Lived) has kindly agreed to answer our burning questions. Emily is one of the nicest people I have ever met, but that's not the only reason I love her book.

The Way He Lived is about Joel Espen, who died of dehydration after giving away his water during a badly planned Boy Scout expedition.
The book starts after his death.

So, did Joel purposely give up his water? Did he want to? And why would someone want to?

I have to say I really love her book. From a writing perspective, it is a Master's Class on how to write several different voices.

There's an aspect of the book that not every reader picks up on, which I think is another interesting facet. So if you get a chance, read it. (You can also click on the picture to order it from Amazon). It got a starred review on Publisher's Weekly, which is pretty cool.

So, to make a long story short (too late) I'll send her a list of ?'s, but if any of you would like to ask a question, just add it to the comments. And I know for a fact many of you have read this little gem, so I expect questions. Sky. Anne C. Writer peeps.

And to sweeten the pot...
Since I just obtained some autographed copies of Shannon Hale's new book The Actor and The Housewife, and Shannon recently said Emily's book was one of her favorites, I think we'll give both books away. Cool? Cool. Ask a question for Emily, get entered in a drawing for Emily's book and Shannon's book.

Be sure to ask Emily about "bad hand". She cracks me up.

Holy cow. I really am single-handedly keeping the publishing industry afloat with my giveaways. Sam just got mad at me, but I told him to talk to the finger. He's so not getting entered into the contest.

Shickety-brickets. I'm at the end of the blog, and I didn't even get a chance to start my actual blog post, which was "Thing About Me #16". And it was a doozy. I'll save it for Wednesday. That is, if I don't run out of blog ideas.

For now I will end with the TOP FIVE STUPIDEST TITLES OF LIFETIME MOVIES:

5. The Advocate's Devil

4. She Woke Up Pregnant

3. My Stepson, My Lover

2. Crowned and Dangerous

and my personal favorite...

1. Mother, May I Sleep With Danger?

Wanna know my own personal Lifetime Movie Title? (Courtesy of Lifetime Title Generator):

Not Without My Dead Husband: The Brodi Ashton Story

I prefer:

Sterilizing Bunnies on her Quest to Take Over the World: The Brodi Ashton Story

So, what are y'all doing this week?

My Book is in Heaven, Waiting to be Born

It's Friday morning and I'm at the BYU Writing for Young People who Read Good Conference, so I'll make this quick.

RANDOM SMELL STATUS: The random stench in my basement is gone, but now my car suddenly smells like puke. On the drive to lunch it smelled fine. After lunch, it smelled like puke. Did someone break into my car, hurl under the seat and then run away laughing? Ah, the excitement of a mystery.

CONTEST
Remember to follow me on Twitter (or link to me) by Sunday to be entered into the drawing for free autographed books.

WE RULE
The push for world domination was successful. Just this morning, we topped that elusive 2 million mark. The procreating bunnies tapped out at 1.7 million. I think the pressure got to them.

In other news, local animal shelters say June is a great month to give your honey a bunny.

RANDOM CONFERENCE CHICKEN NUGGETS OF WISDOM
1. Dandi Mackall gave a great talk at the conference, and at one point, she recounted a dream in which she went to heaven and found all sorts of books who were waiting patiently for an author to man up and write them.

I couldn't help but picture a little 8-year old book, looking longingly down to earth at me, hoping to be born into this world, only to discover I tied my brain tubes. All night, I heard this tiny voice, screaming her guts out from the sky: "Brodi! You promised me!"

I promise, little book, I will try to reverse the procedure, and write you.

2. Tracy Hickman talked about how a book doesn't exist until a reader reads it. (He said it a lot gooder than I just did.)

Anyway, he likened it to the theory of Schrodinger's Cat. Anyone familiar with the famous feline?

The theory goes something like this: If you put a cat in a metal box, with a poison time-release capsule, you'll never know if the cat is alive or dead unless you open the box. So while the box is closed, the cat is alive and dead.

Did that just blow your mind? Alive AND dead! I'll give you a moment to scrape your brains off the wall.

Here are a few graphs to help you understand.

























I'm not sure what it had to do with writing, but I came home and wrote a scene where a cat suffocates in a box. So it totally helped me.

3. For one exercise, I had to draft a letter from my Main Character to me (the author). Here's what my Main Character had to say to me:

Dear Brodi,

Gimme a plot already, booger-brain.

Love,
M.C.

Apparently, my Main Character overheard the flogging of my book during critique, and she sided with my fellow writers.

4. The BYU bookstore was charging $4.76 for those little plastic contact cases.









Seems a little price-gouging for a religious institution.

More details to come on Monday. For now, enjoy the Big Bang Theory's take on Schrodinger's cat.

In Which Brodi's Book is Drawn and Quartered

*knock knock* Housekeeping
Remember to follow me on Twitter, or link to me, by the end of the week to get entered into a drawing for free books. Thanks to all y'all who've already entered.

We are closing in on the procreating bunnies. My spies say they are nervous, which doesn't necessarily help their cause. 2,000,000 followers, here we come!

My attempt to introduce non-black clothes into my wardrobe status:
After one week, the experiment is a success! As the below picture of the weekly laundry clearly shows.

Do you see it?

CONFERENCE REPORT or MY PUBLIC FLOGGING
So, you remember I'm at the BYU Writing for Young People Conference all week. Well, yesterday, it was my turn for my fellow conference goers to critique my work. (First twenty pages of a new project).

Even though critique sessions are necessary for a better novel, and even though I know my work is far from perfect, I still hate public scrutiny. Remember this post?

The comments started out nice (that's the rule- the first half must be all positive). And then they delved into the harsher stuff, and I was pretty intrigued by the consensus (and by "consensus" I mean 100% of the students agree):

THE PROBLEM WITH MY BOOK...
My fellow writers expected my book to have... a plot. A direction. A purpose.

Not only that, as readers, they wanted to be informed of the plot, direction, purpose.

What is this post-modern world coming to, when readers cannot simply absorb the mind of the author? Aren't we underestimating them? If I had my way for my next book, I wouldn't put any words on paper. I'd just tell the kids, "The main character's name is Sydney, and she's sixteen. Her parents are dead, of course, because this is YA. Now...close your eyes... and... visualize." Pause. "So, you tell me what happened."

The "plot" debate was quite passionate, and eventually it reached the point every critique session reaches: the instructor asked me (more or less), "Would you like to continue with the verbal part of the critique, or would you prefer the thumbscrews?" For those who need visuals:


When I couldn't make a decision fast enough (seriously, I know it seems cut and dry, but thumbscrews are painful!) they got together and said, "Let's just take her out back and hit her over the head with a shovel." I was relieved we found a middle ground.

This is my first writer's conference, and now I understand why we had to sign the "Death or Dismemberment" waiver.

But I got to have lunch with James Dashner, so that made me feel a little bit better... At least about his writing ability. James Dashner always has a plot, because that's how James Dashner rolls.

I have to admit, my fellow writers were correct. Books must have plots. It should probably be a general rule. Somebody write that down.

And my workshop leader - the extraordinary author Martine Leavitt - left me pages of thoughtful handwritten notes about my book. And on one little corner of those notes, one little positive sentence of hers was enough to keep me plugging along. I slept with it under my pillow. When I woke up, it had turned to pixie dust. But I could fly. (I'm in a fantasy workshop, btw. It shows, right?)

Favorite quote of the day: "Write a little bit every day and don't give up for 10 years. If at the end, you are not published, put that book away and start a new one."

Um... anyone have a pair of thumb screws lying around? Anyone?

btw- everyone in my critique group was truly very nice. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to exaggerate, especially when it comes to criticism of my person.

ADDED: The book was not the one currently on submission. It's a brand new one.

Let's Make Like Bunnies... and Tons of Free Books

Random Smell status: Something smells in my basement. Status and origin unknown.

Wanna read a free first chapter of an upcoming YA book? Writer sister Bree Despain has been given permission to share the first chapter of her book The Dark Divine (Due on shelves Dec. 09). Check it out.

I'm going to the BYU Writing Conference all week this week.

Best things about going to a conference:
1. No Kids.
2. Did I mention, no kids?
3. No Errands.
4. Hangin' with writer peeps.

Worst things about going to conference:
1. It's at BYU, so no caffeine available. (Yes, I'm still on the wagon, but I prefer to have caffeine in the general vicinity, watching over me.)
2. It's hard enough having friends and family trash my work. But complete strangers? I'm not looking forward to that part.

HELP ME FIGHT THE MAN
So we all know the economy resembles a big pile of cow dung right now, and the publishing industry is no different. Lots of people are saying it's the wrong year to submit a novel to a publisher. To these people, I boldly say, "Oh crap. You're probably right. I suck."

So here's my plan in three small steps:
1. Spread the word about my blog.
2. Those new readers will tell two new people, and then they'll tell two people, and the viewership will multiply like glandular little bunnies.
3. We will arm all of the new followers, and take the publishing industry by force.

Okay, so I was kidding about number 3. But my point is, if it was hard to get a book published before our current econo-slime, it's next to impossible now. So if my name can spread like the Swine Flu, it will increase my chances. They call this "buzz". All I ask is that you don't wash your hands. (Did I take the metaphor too far?)

For those of you who love visual aids, I have made this representational graph, taking into account the "word-of-mouth" speed of my blog readers vs. the mating habits of bunnies. I'm not sure if I got the math right, so someone please check the numbers.


moar funny pictures

Is shooting for 2 million followers in one week delusional? Excellent. I've learned the best way to make friends is by bribing (my mom did it for me during my elementary school years) so I'm going for the same approach to gain this elusive "buzz".

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER, WIN A BOOK
First up, since I am being forcefully immersed in the Twitter-verse, I invite you all to take the trip with me. Everyone who follows me on Twitter by the end of this week will be entered into a drawing to win one of three autographed books.

1. WINGS by Aprilynne Pike (Currently #1 on NYT Bestseller list)




2. THIS IS WHAT I DID by Ann Dee Ellis (A YALSA Best Book for Young Adults)






3. MISS MATCH by Wendy Toliver





LINK TO ME, WIN A BOOK
Next, if you link to me on a blog, or web page by the end of this week, you are entered into another drawing. Just email me the link where the link is located (does that make sense?) and you're entered. email: brosam (at) gmail (dot) com.

Please, get your friends, and friends of friends, and pet bunnies, in on the contest.

1. SWEETHEARTS by Sara Zarr (A National Book Award Finalist)





2. THE WAY HE LIVED by Emily Wing Smith (Starred Review Publisher's Weekly)





3. Another autographed copy of WINGS by Aprilynne Pike






Anyone else have any ideas? Any marketing/publicity gurus out there?

I shall report on the conference, especially any violence that ensues as a result of gumby-heads talkin' smack about my book. (They call this "constructive criticism." Yeah, right.)

Anyone doing anything fun this week?

In Which Two Ninja Cats Re-enact my Tennis Match... And Good News about my Dad!

I played in my first single's tennis match in, like, 15 years. It was a real cat fight. To demonstrate the results of said match, I hired two cats to act it out. Watch the short video to deduce the outcome. (I'm the black cat, btw).


Funny cat fight - Watch more Funny Videos

After the match, my opponent said, "Never give up. You'll get there eventually."

So I hit her in the head with with my racquet, as any gracious loser would do. It was the first time all night I actually hit the sweet spot. *self-five*

My parents, who came to watch the "Slaughtuh of their Daughtuh '09" congratulated me after the match, and then shared some good news, which I will now share with y'all...

MY DAD'S KICKING PANCREATIC CANCER'S ARSE! Okay, so they didn't use those exact words, but you get the picture.

His latest tumor marker is 26!

To explain what that means:
-Oct. 31st, 2007, diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer (or "PanCan")
-Given stats like "97% chance of death" and "3 to 6 months" and dreck like that. He was all "Whatev's, Them there are fightin' words!"
-Jan 2008- Undergoes "Whipple" surgery (check out my description of this here)

So now, every four months, they check his tumor marker. (Upon diagnosis, his tumor marker was like 3,000). Below 32 is considered normal.

He is 26! Go Dad!

For those of you who prefer pictures to words, I made a representational video. The part of my dad is played by "Chuck Norris", and the part of Pancreatic Cancer is played by "Random Cheesy Dude in White Car."

Check it out.




Finally, as a follow-up to our intellectual discussion regarding covers that thrill and chill versus covers that suck and blow, I decided to post the ones deemed thrilling by our commenters.

Here they are. Many of them came from Writer Peep Kim, who is an awesome blogger and even better writer. (She knows books.)









Truly beautiful covers. I admit to buying every single one of these books.

Enjoy your weekend! I plan on celebrating the number "26" with my Dad. What are y'all doing?

I'm Never Gonna Blog Again... Guilty Hands have got no Type Skillz. And Some Cover Art

I apologize in advance, this post is kind of ranty...

GUILTY FEET
So, ideas come to me mostly in three different places.
1. In the shower. (By far the most common)
2. Driving in the car.
3. When I'm trying to go to sleep. (These ideas seem totally brilliant at the time, but usually end up being totally useless. Remember this post?)

When I'm working it through in my head, my surroundings tend to get a little blurry, and that's what happened last night when I was driving home. (I know, safe driving, right?)

I was basically auto-bot driving - letting the creative fluids flow - when I started to get a little antsy, and then a little itchy. I pulled at my ears and scratched the back of my head like a dog infested with fleas. Something was clearly buggin', but I was so absorbed in the story in my head, it took me a while to realize just how squidgy I was.

It wasn't until my neck broke out in hives, and I was pulling at the collar of my shirt that I finally left the scene in my head and yelled at my steering wheel, "Why am I so freakin' peeved?!"

Then I noticed the song playing on the radio. Seether's cover of George Michaels' Careless Whisper.

(If you were lucky enough to forget this song, you can refresh your memory below. Otherwise, don't bother)

There was only one way to explain my symptoms; I was having an anaphylactic reaction to the line "Guilty Feet have got no rhythm," because I was subconsciously incorporating it into the dialogue in my head, and I kept thinking to myself, Who says lines like this?

"Rhett, you came back!"

"Yes, Scarlett, but I'm afraid I'm never gonna dance again. It appears guilty feet have got no rhythm."

"Oh. Okay. Did we dance before?"

It was bad enough having to dance to George Michael's version at my seventh grade stomp with Jimmy "Moist Hands" Perry. Now, 5 years... okay, ten years later... give or take...a lot... I have it stuck in my head again.

What does guilt have to do with rhythm? Michael Jackson never had a problem with rhythm, and you'd think if anyone had guilty feet...

I literally pulled a jaw muscle, the incident bugged me so bad.

FAVORITE LINE FROM THE NEWS LAST NIGHT:
"Lightning strikes happen, as this video shows..."

Ummm... thanks for the alert?

FAVORITE "SUMMER THEME," ALSO FROM THE NEWS LAST NIGHT:

"Let's make this a Cryptosporidium-Free Summer!"

Like the "Summer of '69" and the "Boys of Summer", this new theme is just begging for a song.

Whew. Thank you for listening. I feel better now.

BOOK COVERS

So this post veered off topic rather quickly. Originally I wanted to discuss in depth book cover art, but this post is too long already. So, to make a long post short (too late)...

My friend Valynne discovered this blog about look-a-like covers. It's pretty fascinating.

I'm a sucker for a good cover. My all-time favorite cover is for Wicked Lovely.
I will buy any book with a cover like that.

Conversely there is one art theme that makes me scratch behind the ears and pull at my collar: crazy babies.

Now, these books may all be wonderful, but I will never find out.

1. Crazy babies falling from the sky, about to be impaled by a house.
2. Gigantic crazy babies, faceless and coming for me.
3. Babies conspiring against me. Always a strong prophylactic.
What covers do you love? Any that totally stick out?

So, I signed up for a tennis tournament, and my first match is on Thursday night. Sometimes I feel like I'm cruisin' for a bruisin' and I wonder why I put myself through such humiliation. Wish me luck.

Sometimes Getting a Speeding Ticket is Worth It...

First off, a moment of silence for the man in pink. After 4 consecutive French Open titles, Rafa was ousted by some Swedish dude. Sis-in-law E surmises he was blinded by his own hot pink shirt, and I tend to agree.

The French crowd didn't help either. They never liked Rafa. Suddenly I'm thinking war with France doesn't sound so bad.
Goodbye Mocha Honey. See you at Wimbledon.

Cormac McCarthy VOCABULARY WORD OF THE DAY:

"ISOCLINE"

def: a fold of strata so tightly compressed that both limbs dip in the same direction.

How does Cormac use such a word?
"At the tide line a woven mat of weeds and the ribs of fishes in their millions stretching along the shore as far as eye could see like an isocline of death." pic: I know what the "fractal of doom" is, but in my high school calculus class, Mrs. Keir never covered the "isocline of death". I was robbed. If she had, I probably wouldn't have dropped out.

I jest.

How Brodi would have said the same thing: "A bunch of dead fish lay scattered on the shore." (And I only would have said that after hours of figuring out if it's lay, lied, laid, or lay).

NOTHING AGAINST COPS, BUT SOMETIMES I CAN'T STAND COPS

Someday I'll delve into the specifics about my history with cops, but for now, the latest chapter.

I don't speed. I stay within 5 miles over the speed limit, much to the annoyance of my sister, Erin Gonzalez.

Years ago, I used to speed. But then when I was reporting on a wildfire in Idaho, I passed a competing news van, in a no pass zone, going ten over the speed limit. There may have been a middle finger involved. There definitely was a cop behind me. So, yeah, it was humiliating enough to make me stop speeding.
So the other day, I'm driving up Lincoln Lane, and there's a cop standing in a church parking lot, gunning people. (To be clear, radar gunning. Otherwise, this is a very different story.)

As I approach, he points his finger and motions me to the side of the road.

cop: "Excuse me, ma'am, but you need to slow down. This is a 25 mile per hour zone."

me: "How fast was I going?"

cop: "About 30."

I must interject here. Although, is it really interjecting if I'm only interrupting myself?

Anyway, for someone (like me) who really likes the mantra: "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is like the difference between the lightning and a lightning bug," I couldn't really get past the whole "about thirty" thing. (Mark Twain quote, btw)

continuing on...

me: "About 30? So, not actually 30, right? Maybe more like 28?"

cop (not humored): "It's a 25 mile per hour zone."

me: "Yeah, but isn't that like saying it's "about a 30 mile per hour zone". " (Inside the car, I'm driving my pen into my thigh in an attempt to force my mouth shut.)

cop: "Just slow down, please."

me: "yessir... [trying not to say anything else, biting my cheek, drawing blood, really trying not to say anything else, and failing]... but you get the distinction, right?"

cop: "Do you want a ticket?"

me: "No thanks. I'll go slower."

He let me off the hook, and I learned a valuable lesson. No more going about 30 (so, really, 28). Instead I'll go about 25. (really, 27). That'll show him... mwah hah hah.

Sadly, this would not have been the first time I talked a cop into giving me a ticket. I'll give you the details some other time, but for now I'll just say $145 for jaywalking in an alley is a little steep, even for the "blond lady with the sharp tongue and threatening behavior."