NYC Part #1, a.k.a. Why we asked the Front Desk if we could Smell a Hotel Room

By the time you read this, I'll be in Disneyland. Next to a kid. Who will probably be puking his guts out. 


But before I regale you with tales from SoCal, I have to catch you up with tales of the Garden of the NorEast. Is that how the people "in the know" refer to New York City? Or did that homeless guy on the corner of 41st and 6th Ave steer me wrong? He also sold me tickets to the hottest, newest Broadway show called How To Succeed at the Book of Mormon Without Really Trying... Wickedly.


We couldn't ever find the theater. I think we were had.


Our first night there, we met up with a lovely bunch of bloggers, left over from BEA. (Book Expo America).   

Book Bloggers: Stacey (Pageturners) , Emily (Em's Reading Room), Emily Wing Smith (author), me, Lynsey, Pixie (Pageturners), Bree Despain (author) and Waste Paper Prose's Sara. 

This was also our first attempt to find the Perfect Cupcake. We attempted this feat several times. A day. It was a challenge. But our muffin-tops were up to the task!

This was my plate.

New York was hot. And not "hawt", but hot and muggy. And boy does New York get muggy, which is okay because when I sweat, I look like this:

It's weird too, because I started out in jeans and a t-shirt.

Our hotel room had a slight mildew smell to it, so we called down to the desk to see if we could get another room.


Desk guy: "We do have an extra room. On the 30th floor. Do you want it?"


me (after deliberating with Bree and Emily for a few minutes): "Can we smell it before we commit?"


This seemed to be a reasonable request.


A guy named Juan escorts us to the 30th floor, so we can run a test smell. But when we get to the door, it only opens an inch before the security bar inside the room catches. 


Juan knocks softly. "Danielle? We are coming in..." he whispers.


The three of us exchange glances. 


Juan waits for a moment, then unlocks the door again. This time, it opens all the way. He ushers us in, and then rushes in to smooth out a few wrinkles in one of the beds. 


The door to the bathroom is slightly ajar. 


Juan: "So, how does it smell?"


We're all looking at each other like, "Silly Juan. Who cares how it smells? What we all want to know is, who is Danielle, and why is she hiding somewhere in the room?"


Juan notices a few items on the welcome desk askew and wordlessly rearranges them. 


Juan: "What do you think? You want to trade?"


But we are at a loss for words. Namely because:


1. A mysterious woman named Danielle is still hiding out somewhere in the room. Under the bed? In the bathtub? Who knows?


2. Juan has a thick accent. He may have said Daniel. A random man hiding out in the room sounds even worse.


3. What is Danielle doing in there? Why are the sheets rustled? Is this a party room, for "friends" of the employees?


Juan: "Yes or no?"


We all just sort of shook our heads. "No. Um... thanks for letting us smell." I have to say, the ride back down in the elevator, alone with Juan, was a little awkward.


Surprisingly, "smelling a room" was not our strangest request. We also asked for a needle, some rubbing alcohol, and something that could be used to puncture skin. We asked for these on three separate occasions to aid in the extraction of an infected taste bud, a bulging foot blister, and a ripe lip zit. 


I know what you're thinking: "An infected taste bud, a foot blister, and a lip zit? Why wasn't I invited?"


I know what else you're thinking: "She goes to New York City, and all she can blog about is how she got to smell a room?"


I wanna know what you think. Who was the woman? Was it the make out room? You might be tempted to say she was cleaning the room, but then why was it locked? And why did she hide?


I promise I'll have more stories and pictures later. But I have to run to Disneyland. *Dons cape* *Jumps out window* 

This one time, in New York, Rosie O'Donnell, The Jimmer and I took a plane...

Hey, bloggerland. Long time, no see!

So, I get on the plane from NYC to SLC yesterday, and guess who's sitting two rows behind me? 

The Jimmer. Jimmer Fredette. 

You know, this guy:

The Jimmer. Can also be used as a verb. As in "You got Jimmered."

Apparently he's the best college basketball player in the nation. How do I know this? Because the guy next to me asked for his autograph, and then the guy next to him says, "Who is it?" and the original autograph-asker was all, "It's only the best college basketball player in the nation!"

After which, the guy who didn't know the Jimmer proceeded to tell the Jimmer how he was the best basketball player in his own high school, and he still held the record for some sort of statistic, and wasn't the Jimmer impressed?

The Jimmer was impressed.

Don't believe he was really on my plane? Well, I have the photographic evidence:

The Jimmer is The Guy on the left. Coming off my plane. I took this picture clandestinely. No one even knew I was taking a picture... except maybe the guy on the right, who is staring straight at me. 

And guess who else was on the flight? Maybe the title of the post gave it away, but here she is, the lovely Rosie O'Donnell.

Don't believe that's Rosie? I understand. Bree Despain didn't believe me either. So a little while later, I waited for her to turn her face to me... and voila. Here she is.

Doesn't she look great, even after a 5 hour flight? 

Okay, so I'm planning on blogging all about the epic NYC trip, which involved a daily hunt for cupcakes, two broadway shows, blistering heat and humidity, and a tiny dog named Hogi. 

But as for now, I have to pack my bags. Cuz we're leaving for SoCal. Because summer isn't summer unless you hit both coasts in a two week time span. Right?


*added: It really was Rosie O'Donnell. I just could never get a clear shot!

Thing #1 and Thing #1, and vote on if my Behavior makes me a Stalker

Hey y'all!


Just a Friday quickie of Thing #1 and Thing #1 before my big New York trip:

Thing #1


Are you going to be in the NYC area next week? 


BFACP (Best Friend and Critique Partner) Emily Wing Smith is participating in a Teen Author Reading Night on June 1st.


Here are the details:
Date: June 1, 2011
Place: Mulberry Street Branch of the New York Public Library (Corner of Mulberry and Jersey)
Time: 6-7:30


If you're in the area, please come! Everyone is welcome. I'll be there too, so come and say hi. Bree Despain (author of The Dark Divine) will be there too.  


Thing #2


I still think about my major high school crushes. Not in a "Man, I'd love to trade up, and I wonder what he's up to" kind of way, but more in a "Who did he marry? Where does he live? Is he successful? Is Sam more successful? (kidding)" 


And my biggest crush from high school isn't on Facebook. He's not on Twitter. I don't even know if he's married, where he lives, what he does. This is driving me crazy! Not "so Crazy I can't sleep at night" but more in a "Once a month, when I check Facebook, it would be convenient if he were on there..."


So, here's the vote. Does this sort of behavior make me:


A: So totally normal. Everyone remembers their high school crushes. That's why we love to read Y.A.


or

B: Stalker. To the nth degree. Give me his name so I can warn him now not to leave his pet rabbit alone in the back yard. 

Revealing my Obsessions for New Followers... and I'm going to New York

Okay, I admit it. I forgot today was Wednesday. 

Here's the thing: I went to breakfast with some friends this morning, and I never go to breakfast on Wednesdays. It totally threw me off. 

I feel like that one lady in Emma- Miss Bates - when she gets a letter from Jane Fairfax on a Thursday, and she can't stop talking about it because Jane usually writes on a Tuesday, and today is Thursday, but yet she got a letter, even though it's Tuesday, and can you believe it?

I guess I'm a creature of habit. So, here are two things I'm working on:

1. Anyone in the Big Apple?

I'm leaving for New York City on Saturday, and I have nothing to wear. Not in the way that normal people have "nothing to wear", where they're skimming through clothes in their closet and thinking how old everything is.

I literally have nothing to wear. I went pantsless today, and it's wasn't pretty. And I'd hate to go naked in New York. I've heard the city is very progressive, but that might be pushing the envelope a little too far. 

Emily Wing Smith is giving a reading of her book, with a bunch of other authors on June 1st, somewhere in NYC, so if you're in the area and you want to meet up, you can come! I have no details yet, but I do know it's June 1st. I'll have deets on Friday.

2. Ohmyheck, I already forgot what number 2 was. 

Seriously! I remembered at the top of the post, but now, nothing. What is my problem? Answer me!!!

Let's see...

I went to breakfast. Did I mention how that threw my day off? 

Yes.

Hmmm...

I don't know. So, I'll go to my go-to subject when I'm at a loss. My undercover lover. And by "undercover" I mean "In my dreams" and by "lover" I mean I watch him on the telly a lot.

Yes, Rafa Nadal is number one, and he's playing in the French Open for the next couple of weeks. On ESPN 2 if you're interested. I have a lot of new followers lately, and now might be the time to warn you all that a third of my posts usually have something to do with Rafa.

Or his arms. 

Or his left ab, second from the top.

... and the hip dents.

But I only talk about him during the ATP tennis tour, which is only 11.5 months out of the year. 

Another third of my posts are about how much I love my agent, Michael Bourret. 

The final third is about my love of Diet Coke. Why does anyone read this blog? I suck.

Where was I? Oh great. Now I'm totally lost. Did I talk about my breakfast this morning?

Maybe I should trash this post and start fresh on Friday. 

Trash or Publish, Publish or Trash, Trash or-

Answering the Number One Question I get Asked, and a Peek into my Writing Space

It's time to play the...

GUESS WHAT I NEGLECT game!

Where I take you through my writing day, and you get to guess which priorities get neglected around here. 

This game was inspired by the number of times I get asked, "How do you find time to be a mom and a writer?"

Also brought to you by, "I could write a book, but I don't have the free time you obviously do."

And my favorite: "I'd write a book, but I love my kids."

Okay, nobody really said that last one, but sometimes it feels like it. 

I'm sure you've all heard writers say they are as busy as the next guy, and it's true. So I'll take you on a tour of my writing day.

Here's my writing space:

I come here whenever I get a chance. There are three things I need on my desk in order to really have the most productive writing block (not to be confused with "writer's block":

The Bread of Life.

Water, Diet Coke, Tea, and honey for the tea. 

Yes, I pee a lot. But that gives me a good break. 

I try to make everything convenient. If I need another Diet Coke, I simply walk out to my front porch.

A place for everything, and everything in its place. The Diet Coke's place is on the front porch. Next to the car seat. Under the caulking gun.

If I need something to eat, like a leftover roll, I look under the coffee table.

Who needs a pantry?

If I need something to wear, I look on the kitchen floor, and check to see if they're dry yet.

There really is method to the madness. They're drying in the sunlight.

I like to keep weapons accessible. If I need to act out a fight scene, I simply grab the light saber next to the chair:

... or the sword next to the other chair:

...and for the really emotional scenes, I choose the Scythe of Death on the kitchen bar stool:

If Kid C asks me where he can find a clean shirt, I (exasperatedly) tell him to look where they always are... on certain Tuesdays of the month... when the moon is just right: folded and neatly put away in a large pile next to the banister.

That space is dedicated space.

And if friends come over, I escort them to the one room of the house that is generally clean. The kitchen.

I don't like to be distracted while I'm eating. So there's only one computer and one television in the kitchen.

Sure there are all those clothes on the floor, but they are in really neat piles. The reason my kitchen is so clean (relatively, I know) is because I made a vow a long time ago that the kitchen is too beautiful to mess it up with my lame attempts at cooking.

Now for the crux of the game: Can you guess how I find time to write? Can you GUESS WHAT I NEGLECT?

I heard a quote over the weekend: "Balance comes when you neglect a little bit of everything."

I can't remember who said it. I was too busy writing. But it's very true. I neglect a little bit of everything, but a lot of a certain thing. You probably know what that certain thing is.

What about all y'all? How do you find balance? And was anyone a little disappointed that the Rapture didn't happen? Or maybe it did, and y'all are gone now...

I miss you already. 

The End of Days... and the End of Everneath 2. What Would Your Last Line Look Like?

With the Rapture predicted to happen this Saturday, I decided I had to at least get to the end of my sequel to EVERNEATH... EVERNEATH 2: NEVERABOVE

So, I wrote The. Final. Line. 

At least if the Rapture does happen, and if I disappear sometime tomorrow, someone will be able to read The. Final. Line.

Now to write... The. Second. To. Last. Line. Without which, The. Final. Line. won't make any sense. 

Of course, after the Rapture, only evil people will be left. And they'll be dealing with Armageddon. Will they have time to read a YA Romance? I say... yes. Especially if the power's out, and their house is boarded up to protect from the Zombie Apocalypse (aim for the head), and they don't want to make any noise, what else is there to do but read a book?

But my book is on the computer... 

I can't share the last line, because it's way too spoilery, but I can say there are the words "trusted" and "eternity" in it.

I did show some of the discarded last lines on twitter, so I'll put them here too:

Discarded line #1: "I couldn't believe everyone was dead. I thought for sure someone would make it out of this book alive."

Discarded line #2: "I looked out into my backyard. It really was time to get out the old pooper scooper."

Discarded line #3: "Something itches."

So, what are some of your ideas for discarded last lines of your books? Or any books?

What are y'all doing this weekend? Planning for Rapture? Anyone else going to arrange some clothes on your front lawn to make it look like you... just... disappeared?

The German Cover for my Book... Maybe. Or Maybe Not. Sprechen sie deutsche?

Lately, my Google alert has been going a little crazy with stuff about my book in Germany. When I click through, I see this:

Roughly translated means "Forever Longing".

I don't know if it's a placeholder for another cover, or if it's the actual cover, but I either way I still love it. It's completely different than my American cover but I think it's awesome. (I've seen drafts of my U.S. cover, and it is simply brilliant, but I can't share it yet) .

The German translation is set to release simultaneously with the U.S. version, and I'm lucky to have enthusiastic editors over there. Some German bloggers have been blogging about it, too. I have a difficult time figuring out what they're saying, seeing as I don't speak German and the Google Translation is apparently overseen by a first grader.

Upon hearing this, my mom said, "I know a little German..."

Which made me want to say, "Me too. He's right over there."

A little German.

But I totally didn't say that.

So, my mom took a look at the blogs, and apparently the synopsis of my book goes something like this:

"So... Nikki is... somewhere... stuck in the Unterwelti, and she... something... so she returns home... her boyfriend Jack ist Nikki's große Liebe so, he is Nikki's great love. Cole ist ein Unsterblicher... so, he's a never-die-er... immortal?... and he wants something."

Thanks mom. I couldn't have put it better myself. I will alert my editor that we now have the perfect jacket copy for the back of my book. 

So, what do y'all think of the German cover?

Speaking of my cover, my editor says we should have something to share in the next few weeks. I can't wait. The design team at HarperCollins has done an amazing job, and I'm so happy I won't have to pretend to love my cover... because I love it!

For now, enjoy this scene from that classic TOP SECRET! When I was growing up, I was convinced this movie should've won Best Picture.