Free Book Friday: Life in the Pit by Kristen Landon... and Sam pulls a Groin

Happy Friday!

Up for grabs today is a signed copy of Kristen Landon's LIFE IN THE PIT. 

All you have to do to enter is leave a comment!

So, Sam was in a tennis tournament last weekend, and he made it to the championships. 

 (this isn't the actual tournament, but it's the only pic I could find of him on the court.)

We were so excited, but nervous too, because during the match before the finals, he had gotten severe shin splints. 

The first set went okay, but he lost it in a tie-break, and then he was way ahead in the second when he twisted his ankle.

Brave Sam kept playing. The other guy gave him a drop shot, and Sam ran forward to get it, but he suddenly stopped and then he leaned against the net for a few minutes, head down.

Those of you who know tennis, and even those of you who don't, could probably guess that's not normal. I wasn't sure which was causing the problems, the shins or the ankle, but he didn't look good.

Because this was the finals, there was a crowd watching the match, and when Sam switched sides to prepare to serve, he turned toward me, caught my eye and... um... gestured toward his nether-regions.

He gave me a look that said, "I pulled my groin." (It's hard to master the look that portrays this statement. Sam's been working on it for years. It's all in the eyebrows.)

I tried to give him a look that said, "I'm surrounded by people! Stop pointing there!" (This look involves a series of winking and blinking.)

I glanced side to side to let him know I wasn't alone. He assumed I hadn't seen his oh-so-subtle message.

He waved at me, pointed there again, and mouthed the word Ow. 

I know groin injuries are nothing to be embarrassed about, and I was so not embarrassed. Not at all. 

By this point, he could barely walk, but he finished the match without defaulting. After the match (he lost in another tie-breaker) I helped him off the court, and he's all, "I pulled my groin. I tried to tell you, did you see?"

I patted his back as he limped off the court. "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."


So, what do your significant others do to embarrass you? And what are y'all doing this weekend?

Free Book Friday, and How Finding the Perfect Ending for your Book is like Shopping for the Perfect Bra

Today I'm giving away a signed copy of Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl's book BEAUTIFUL CREATURES.

Find out how to enter at the end of the post. (It will involve leaving a comment). 

So, the other day I tweeted about how I'm rewriting the ending to my book:

Revisions: I tried a new ending on for size yesterday. It was a little snug and a quite itchy. I hate shopping for endings. Harsh lights.

 

Trying on a different ending today. Gonna avoid all three-way mirrors until I get it right. #revisionsareitchy

And my friend Leisha Maw responded with this:

   

@Brodiashton i hate shopping for endings, too. It's like bra shopping-uncomfortable.  

And I realized she's exactly right. Finding the perfect ending is like finding the perfect bra:

1. Sometimes you have to try on a few before you get one that fits.

     I'm on my third ending. The first one felt like a marshmallow bra. The second, like a wool boulder holder. The third one might be just right.

2. The perfect ending/bra must uplift (and separate). 

  This is not to say all endings must be happy, but they must satisfy the reader, and fulfill any promises that were put forth in the beginning of the book. 

ex: In Harry Potter, not everyone makes it out alive, but you can be sure Harry finally finds the place where he belongs.

3. The perfect ending/bra must have (underwire) support.

     The rest of the book provides the foundation for the ending, so when that last page comes, you don't have to be Houdini to make it work. 

     For instance, if you get to the end of your contemporary realistic book, and you find the only way your dream ending can happen is if a dragon flies into town and brings with him an alternate universe, you have a problem.  

4. Little irritations in an ending/bra can become huge rashes, but not every clasp needs to be done up.

     You don't have to tie every loose end in a giant pink bow, but an irritating ending can make a reader hate an otherwise excellent book. You want an ending that earns a place on the reader's nightstand, not a spot in their fireplace. It doesn't matter how good a drink is if it leaves a bad aftertaste in your mouth. 

I'll use some movies as examples:

Remember the movie SEVEN, with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman? I don't want to ruin it, but let's just say there's a box at the end that holds part of Brad Pitt's wife. (Okay, it was her head). But the ending didn't come out of nowhere, and it sure fit in with the rest of the movie. I bought it, hook line and sinker, and it stuck with me like peanut butter on the roof of my mouth.

Remember the movie CITY OF ANGELS with Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan? The angel makes the monumental sacrifice to fall to earth, only to have his true love get hit and killed by a truck the very next day in a really stupid bicycle accident. I saw that movie years ago, and I still want to punch it. I want to literally punch the movie. If it showed up on my doorstep, I would knee it in the groin.

So, my question for you, dear blog readers, is: What do you expect in endings? Do they have to be happy in order for you to like a book? Does everyone have to make it out alive? What sticks with you the most? Do you remember any endings that made you want to throw the book across the room?

Answer in the comments and you'll be entered to win the free book.  

Free Book Friday: Enter to Win Signed Copy of Lindsey Leavitt's Princess for Hire

Happy Friday y'all. 

I'm at a writing retreat and my internet connection is spotty, so this will be a quick post.

Up for grabs today is an autographed copy of Lindsey Leavitt's Princess for Hire. 

Lindsey Leavitt is a classy chick, and funny and down to earth and just plain cool. Her agent rocks too.  This is us at her signing.

The question you have to answer is this:

What do you think the next big trend in YA books will be? What would you like to see more of? 

Leave a comment with an answer, and you'll be entered to win! (Any thoughts on the subject will be accepted. As my long-time blog readers can tell you, I'm not picky when it comes to contest entries.)

p.s. There are two winners from the WIFYR who should be getting free books from me. You know who you are. Can you email me your addresses again? My has exploded since that contest.  brosam (at) gmail (dot) com

Having a Passion for Writing... Why I'll Never Best Gershwin... and Free Book Friday

Free Book Friday!

I got a buttload of books at the Authorpalooza!

 

Your choice. To enter, leave a comment on today's topic. Want a second entry? Tweet about it or blog about it, and then let me know in the comment.

1. Blogging Presentation

I gave a presentation on blogging the other night at the SCBWI thingee, and I'm trying to figure out how to give access to the notes through my blog. So, I'll work on it this morning and it should be here by this afternoon.

2. One last word on the odds and passion.

The other day I was playing the piano. It's a 1940's Wurlitzer, and although it's old and ugly, it reminds me of my Grandma - Yaya - who could play the piano by ear. Okay, that sentence didn't come out as well as I'd planned, especially the "old and ugly" part sounding like it reminded me of Yaya, who was anything but ugly... anywho. Her picture is on top. 

 

Remind me to tell you some stories of Yaya because she is a hoot. 

So, I was working on a really hard song, and Sam comes in the room.

Sam: "Sounding good. You still working on that Gershwin?"

Me: "Yep."

Sam: "How long have you been practicing it now?"

Me: "Hmmmm." I had to think. It didn't seem like that long. I often turn to working on it when I need to organize my brain. I thought back to all the pianos on which I'd been playing this song. "I bought the music when I was in college, and started practicing before I even met you. We've been married 11 years..."

And then I did the math. I've been playing this song, trying my darnedest to learn it, for fourteen years. Fourteen years.

Some days I can play it all the way through, but these days are rare, and not without a lot of four-letter words and wringing fists toward the sky, shouting, "Curses, George! Why do you hate me?!" 

And I don't know if you're familiar with Gershwin, but most of his chords don't sound "right" in the first place. Every single wrong note sounds like a third-grade school band marching through a library.

And I got thinking about how this can be similar to having a passion for writing. 

With the dreaded Gershwin:

1. I'm never planning on performing it. In front of people.

2. Even if I learn all the notes, I lack the inner syncopation for Gershwin.

3. I'm guessing arthritis will set in before I perfect it.

I don't do it with the intention of someday making a living at it. I don't think of it like that. I do it because I love it. For me, the piano is something I turn to when when I need to impose order on chaos in mah brain.

My point is, it's okay to abolish gargantuan intentions!

1. Allow yourself to have a passion for something without being crippled by the fear of public rejection. You can write as much as you want without ever taunting the Fluffy White Bunnies.

2. A passion for the road can be just as fulfilling as a passion for the destination. More so.

3. Someday, if you find you've created a strong enough Flang Mace...

 

...you can decide to take on the Fluffy White Bunnies. (Heretofore or henceforth known as FWB's.)

If you want, you can write for the joy of writing, and the FWB's never have to know.

Have a great weekend!

Free Book Friday: THE MAZE RUNNER... Calling all De-Lurkers. And non-De-lurkers too.

Happy Friday y'all!

The kids are out of school, though, so how happy could it really be? Ha ha.

1.  Many of you told me that after Wednesday's blog, you had my writer's block song stuck in your head. I apologize. The last thing you need in your head when you're trying to write, is my voice singing that lame song. I should know. My voice is in my head all the time, and I can't write a thing.

2. My friend Sara B. (#6 on the "Crazy" list) has started a blog. She promised she would start one if I would finish my darn book and send it to her, so I was all over that like gravy on chicken.

Anyway, Sara is very funny with a wry sense of humor, and in her latest entry, she explains why she was voted #6 crazy, and why people like me were voted #1. So stop by and say hi - and defend my honor - if you get a chance!

Also, did I mention my critique group is called "The Six"? Here we are:

The Six

Well, we are officially on Wikipedia! (Thanks to Wiki-fiend Ben. Please don't misread and think "wiki-friend"). Okay, maybe we're not officially on it yet, but very soon we will be. Especially after our Writer's Conference on a Cruise Ship. Emily Wing Smith, our cruise director is planning it.

Check out our entry here.

3. Lastly, and Most Importantly...

or is it Last and Most Important? (I think Stephen King would choose the latter, since he abhors -ly adverbs. Abhors them vehementally.)

Anywho, around the blogging world, it's "De-Lurk Week" or something to that effect. I totally want in on that action. So, in honor of De-Lurk Week, I am reconstituting Free Book Fridays!

(Reconstituting involves taking the shriveled old and decrepid FBF and putting it in a vat of water mixed with laundry detergent, and voila! Reconstituted FBF. I learned this on an episode of Bones.)

Up for grabs is an autographed copy of James Dashner's THE MAZE RUNNER

By the way, before you non-de-lurkers stop reading, know this: you can be entered too by answering the same questions, and then telling the de-lurkers how painless it is to de-lurk. How we are all very nice!

For Lurkers:

Answer any or all of the following questions.

For non-Lurkers:

Answer the questions, and give a shout out to the lurkers.

Questions:

1. Name, rank and serial number

2. How did you find the blog?

3. Do you know how to kill goldfish and make it look like an accident?

(Check out the new digs. This is getting ridiculous. They are eating me out of house and home.)

4. Do you write? Read? If so, what?

5. If a Priest, a Rabbi, and Ghandi walk into a bar, who's walking out?

6. Anything else you'd care to share? Anything on your mind? Anything you'd like to ask me?

As in the days of yore (last November), winners will be picked out of a hat by Smokey, our hairless cat.

Okay, folks, that's all. Please de-lurk so I don't look like a loser.

FBF Winners, and my Thanksgiving Top Ten

Final Free Book Friday Winners:

Cath
Britt
Mary
Juliana
Lulabell

Congratulations! Rank your top five choices from the picture below and email me your address. (Email in the sidebar).

The contest will resume after the holidays, when I expect Santa will have brought me more money. (Wow, that sentence reeked of the Ghost of Past Present Participle).

Now for the quick post:

What I'm Thankful for, in Order from Most to Least Important. (Just kidding. No order.)

1. Health. Among other things, this includes myriad doctors and nurses, the Huntsman Cancer Institute, vaccines, medicine, and my Dad still going strong.

2. Metrosexual Hubby who's not afraid to do the laundry

3. Kid B, who's pretty sure he knows how to talk, it's just the people around him who don't know how to listen.

4. Kid C, who can negotiate the skin off a chihuahua.

5. Friends, who understand the madness that comes with writing, and hang with me anyway.

6. Writer Friends, who don't flinch when one of us says, "Then I had a breakdown." Because what writer doesn't have a breakdown? We're all, "That's not even worthy of setting down my hot chocolate."

7. Extended family, complete with nannies, readers, friends and kindred souls. (Wow. I'm getting sorta mushy.)

8. Parents, who raised me to believe most kids read Shakespeare for fun. (I'm thankful now, but man, growing up... )

9. Blog Readers, who keep coming back despite my stories of pus, abs, spiders and pee.

10. Blog Commenters, who give me something to look forward to every day.

So, what are y'all thankful for?

FBF Winner, and Presenting the First Page of My New Book (Feel Free to Disregard)

1. Free Book Friday Winner:

Keersten

Choose your top three books from the picture and email me your address. (Email in sidebar).

2. Team Tamale Deadline
Tonight is the deadline for Team Tamale. And I can tell you all, I'm finished with my book! Now there's a huge difference between typing The End, and having a draft that's actually readable by someone else.

Right now, it's about at the reading level for hamsters. By December, I'm hoping to take it to the next level. Bats.

3. SCBWI Conference

Anyone in the Salt Lake area writing for children out there? Young Adult, Middle Grade, Picture Book? The SCBWI Utah conference is this Saturday. I'll be there. I also happen to know Bree Despain will be speaking at some point.

And SCBWI Queen Sydney Salter brings in editors, agents and authors who shed skin cells on the whole publishing industry. (You thought I was going to say "shed light", didn't you? I was going to, but I didn't want to be cliche.)

If you do want to go, make sure you email Sydney Salter asap and work it out with her that you want to pay at the door. Tell her I sent you, and she'll jack up the price an extra 10%. Her email's in the sidebar.

4. I vow to Up My Blog Quality, so Up Yours.

Y'all know I've been a little light in brain cells lately with this whole Chimi-Challenge '09. But now that it's over, at least my part of it is, I promise my blog quality will resume it's normal, lackluster sweaty sheen. I just snorted over that last sentence. Heh heh. It doesn't even make snense.

I bet right now, y'all are wishing for a guest blogger. Well, too bad! My blog's not cool enough to attract guest bloggers.

So, as a final salute to mediocrity, I will present the first page of my new book. Feel free to skip to the end of this post without reading. I will not be offended.

Whoa. Stage fright. Hubby just told me, "Maybe you don't want to share your first page. Maybe you want to wait until you've revised a few times."

To which I reply, "Did General Custer hesitate on his way to Little Big Horn? I think not."

So, like a mobster who brings a knife to a gunfight, I present my first page. As for comments, ummm... if you have to choose between being nice, and being honest, choose nice. (btw, it's a Young Adult novel, about a teenage girl who's been gone for a long time, but gets a chance to go back to her high school)

CHAPTER ONE

It’s too soon.

But, really, I’d been gone for one hundred years. Everything about my old life would be too soon. Especially high school.

The halls of Jackson High looked the same, and I reminded myself that above ground – far above the Underneath - only a few months had passed during my absence.

Senior year. A waste of time, in one respect, considering I would never graduate. But I needed be here to glimpse, for a moment, the life I had before. The year I should’ve had. To see Jack one last time. To stockpile memories that would nourish me for the next century. I could do this without hurting him again.

I glanced down at my schedule. First period English Literature. As I checked the room numbers at the tops of the doors, curious whispers floated along the hall behind me. Hanging in the air above my head. Blended together, belonging to no single voice.

Isn’t that Nicole Beckett?
She looks awful… Is she using?
Has to be… She was with the band. What else would do that to person?
Poor Jack. Does he know she’s back? Does he know she’s strung out?

When I found the right room, I clutched my books into my chest, lowered my head, and walked through the door.

Someone -- probably the teacher -- called from near the front of the classroom. “Miss Beckett? Is it?”

Hearing my own last name did strange things to my heart. Made it beat a little faster. A little harder. It’d been so long since I had a last name. For a hundred years, Cole only called me by my first name.
***

Okay, thanks for humoring me. Now to just get up the courage to press "publish post". How's y'all's week going? Pressing "Publish Post" in 3.... 2.... 1

Free Book Friday, and a Metrosexual Guest Blogger

Team Tamale update:

52,000 words. 13,000 more in 6 days.

Free Book Friday
Today, we have our first "Guest Blogger due to Me Being Totally Whacked out Because of Trying to Write 25,000 words in 14 days." (I copied that sentence from my book yesterday. You can see the quality of the work I'm putting out.)

So, without further adoodoo, please welcome Hubby. And please show him some comment love, because he is a very insecure metrosexual man. He's also made it very easy to enter in the FBF. I miss each and every one of you.

From Sam

I am filling in for Brodi today. HOW EXCITED ARE YOU ALL FOR THAT BIT OF NEWS? Today you get a very sexy metrosexual guy talking about very nonsexy things.

Brodi has had a long stressful week of writing and just living life. She told me that she was going to cook me dinner if I did not write her blog today, so that is why I am stepping in. I love Brodi but cooking ain't her thing. Don't get me wrong, she knows how to order takeout...she knows how to turn on the oven (I think she does)...and she knows how to ask me to cook up spaghetti...but cooking ain't her thing. So for her to threaten me with cooking up a meal, well, lets just say--it is like a normal person screaming at the top of their lungs for HELP. I put on my superhero outfit, tried to put out the oven fire from her cooking and here I am typing out this blog.

For those that do not know me, I am Brodi's adorable husband. I am 6'3", I weigh 200 pounds, I lift weights often, I like long walks along the beach...ok, none of that is true, except for the long walks on the beach stuff and for that, I usually have to wear a speedo which is truly liberating. Anyway, hopefully I have only lost about 50% of the readers so far.

Hold on--interruption of Brodi and Carter playing a game. Kid C wants to play 'Let's guess what number I am thinking of'...ok, sure.

Kid C: I am thinking of a number that is between 1 and 500,000. Guess what it is?

Brodi: 1,000.

Kid C: No.
Brodi: (slapping forehead in exasperation)

Sam: going to grab a sleeping bag because of a long night ahead of guessing a number out of 499,999 options.

I don't know if any of you watched it, but the reimaginging of the old tv series 'V' premiered on Wednesday. Brodi and I are kind of ScyFy (the lame nonsensical acronym that the SciFi channel has switched to) geeks, as you all have read thru Brodi's blog. In fact, she is actually geekier than me--no joke, I believe that she has watched Aliens (not Alien which was decent but vastly inferior to its sequel) at least 113 times. It was on 5 times in one week once and I think she missed a total of 4 minutes of it.

If it is an alien/monster/zombie/especially zombie/vampire, then we will be watching it. So, I started thinking of what were some of our favorite tv shows that are little paranormal/science fiction-y. Here is our list of my top 5 shows in the past 15 years:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer--

This is the classic. Stupid title, fabulous show. It really was groundbreaking. A girl is given special gifts and she has to save the world. And save it she did. Excellent dialogue, touching moments, great fight scenes. A hot Michelle Gellar (never hurts to have a pretty woman as the main character for all of the 15 year old geeks at home) and this show made a near household name out of Joss Whedon.

Firefly--

We still shed tears over the cancellation of this show. It was short lived and terrific. Cowboys in space...how could it be cooler besides maybe being Hip Hop-pers in Space? Another Joss Whedon show and it starred Nathan Fillion who everyone loves. Once again, great stories and likeable characters and it even led to an equally terrific movie, Serenity.

Lost--

Don't get me wrong, this show has had troubles. A great first season was followed up with some problems in seasons 2 and 3 but it has been back on course over the past few years. What is not to like? an airplane full of people crash into a deserted island that is not so deserted as it has some possible mean people who have a pet Polar Bear as well as machine guns, a giant time traveling wheel, a VW van, bright lights, science projects, comic books, hot mess of women, and flash forwards--how can you not love that all?

Fringe--

If you are not watching, watch. It is strange, to say the least. A possibly evil science corporation, bald people, death by goo on a bus, monsters, mad loveable scientist. And how can you not love Anna Torv? Even the old Dawson Creek's very own Joshua Jackson turns in great performances.

Angel--
David Boreanez. Being a true metrosexual, I can say without insecurity, he is one good looking man. You loved him in Buffy...you love him in Bones...and he was fun in Angel, the follow up to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He is a vampire, protecting the city of LA from bad vampires and other bad people. It also kept the lovely Eliza Dusku and Charisma Carpenter on television which is appreciated by me as well. (It is OK for me to say this as I have put up with Brodi's 78 posts on her secret lover, Rafa Nadal).

So, there is the list? Have any of you seen these shows? if so, what have you seen, what have you liked?

Enter the Contest
It is Free Book Friday and you can get a free book by just doing one of the following three things:

1. Follow me on my amazing, though not quite as spectacular as Brodi's blog, blog at: www.samandbrodi.blogspot.comn Yes, that is shameless plug and I do not expect any of you to follow up...so off to choices 2 and 3 for a chance to enter in to the free book contest.

2. Comment on your top 2 (or more if you desire) favorite science fiction shows (and for you old timers, you can include Star Trek if you like...we won't hold it against you for being old and cheesy to like that show)

or, 3. Just leave a general comment about anything.

If you have yet to do so, follow Brodi here on the blog or follow her on Twitter (@BrodiAshton).

Thanks for putting up with me today. Enjoy your weekend. And I hope you will soon be able to erase the image of me in a speedo from your memory.

Free Book Friday, Utah Book Awards, and a Mysterious Pool of Blood

It's Free Book Friday. Read to the bottom to find out how to enter. (It's easy, again.)

Utah Book Awards
Last night, BFF Emily Wing Smith won the Utah Book Award for The Way He Lived. She proved she did not expect to win, because at the awards ceremony, when her name was called, she hadn't written an acceptance speech.

She still did a great job.

Emily Wing Smith, Em's Dad, Sara Zarr

Unflappable Sara Zarr was also a nominee for her book Sweethearts, and it was so good to see them both up on stage. Fabulous night. If you get a chance, go tell Emily Wing Smith and Sara Zarr congratulations!

Writer peeps Bree Despain, Kimberly Reid, Sara Bolton and Valynne Nagamatsu were on hand to scream and cheer.

(me, Valynne, Sara B., Bree, Emily)

We were supposed to dress up a little, and so I wore heels for the first time in a year. I soon remembered why I don't wear heels. My feet were killing me.

So after the event, we decided to go to Gourmandies for dessert. About a 3 block walk. In my killer shoes. Not killer as in "hawt", but killer as in "tip-toeing across a bed of nails."

For the rest of the post, I thought it would be fun to see how well y'all know the blog. So I devised a multiple choice test. Let me know how you do.

When my feet can't take anymore abuse, I decide to
a) switch shoes with Bree
b) hop on Sara B.'s back
c) take my shoes off and walk barefoot for the 3 blocks to the restaurant

The answer is: c. Emily Wing Smith talked me into it. Strange enough, she was okay with me walking in the filth of 3rd East, but she told me to push the crosswalk button with my elbow. To avoid germs.

On the walk, I almost step in:
a) a pile of broken glass
b) a pool of blood
c) bird poop

If you answered all of the above, you are correct. But we were definitely most intrigued with the pool of blood.

Puddle of Blood

After several discussions about whether or not it was really blood, including such words as "viscosity consistent with the consistency of blood" (we felt very smart after that sentence) we decided to examine it. I took a paper from my purse and dipped it.

After Brodi dips the paper in the blood, Valynne proceeds to :
a) smell it
b) bring it under the light for a closer look
c) throw it away

Valynne sniffs out the truth

This one should be obvious. She smells it. But we soon realize none of us really know what blood smells like.

When Valynne smells it, Bree shouts:
a) AIDS!
b) Hepatitis!
c) EWWWW!

Yep. All of the above. She basically yelled these three phrases over and over on the entire walk to and from the restaurant. She just varied the order.

Upon unfolding the paper with the blood on it, Brodi discovers the random paper she pulled from her purse was:
a) a receipt from recent AAA visit
b) a love letter from Sherman Alexie
c) Kid C's handwritten story about his mom

If you guessed C, you'd be right. My purse if full of 98% junk, 2% valuables. Of course I picked the valuable paper.

By the way, his story goes like this: "Once Upon a Time, my mom was awesome. I see pot." I've had it in my purse for months. Classic.

After the story is besmirched with blood, I:
a) throw it away
b) wipe it off on the grass
c) tear the bloody part off, chuck it in front of a lawyer's office, and take off.

The answer is: b, then c. We just happened to be in front of a lawyer's office on our walk home from Gourmandies.

After I throw it on the doorstep of the lawyer's office, Emily says, "Wait. ----"
a) Don't litter."
b) That can't be sanitary."
c) Fingerprints!"

Thankfully, Emily has my personal freedom in mind. It's C. To keep me from being implicated in a murder, she kicks the paper into the bushes.

On the way to our cars, Emily Wing Smith suggests her hubby Dan can carry me, because of his:
a) Strong muscles
b) Asian heritage
c) Gymnast heritage

The answer: c

Emily and her hubby Dan

At dinner, Brodi makes a confession:
a) She didn't know Emily's hubby was Asian
b) She had a high school boyfriend who licked her toes
c) Her pants fell down at the awards ceremony when she stepped over the row of chairs to get to her seat

Ummm... all three. Thankfully I was wearing a sweater that covered my behind.

Which word is uttered at dinner, followed by hysterical laughter:
a) Boobs
b) Seaman
c) Rectal

Okay, it's all of the above. What can I say? We're all twelve years old.

So, to enter into the Free Book Friday contest, answer the following questions:
1. Do you think it was blood?
2. Do you have any theories as to what happened?
3. Do you know any blood spatter experts?
4. Can you see any images in the blood? Virgin Mary? Mickey Mouse?

If you turn the picture on its side, I think it resembles a scorpion. I don't know what this means.

The Coolest Story Ever about Sherman Alexie. Okay, The Coolest story ever that invovles me. There are only two. Of the two, this one's the Coolest.

It's Free Book Friday! Answer the question at the bottom to enter this week.

For those of you who thought Smokey wasn't really my cat, and he was just some loser hairless cat I found on the internet, here's the proof.

Of course, I had to pluck out my right eyeball shortly after this pic was taken because Smokey tried to lick it.

Mr. Alexie
I saw Sherman Alexie speak at The King's English Wednesday night. You guys remember how much I gushed about him in L.A.? It is so big that he came to TKE to talk about his new book War Dances. It was easily the biggest crowd I've seen at their next door art gallery.

At times inappropriate (He told a joke about... um... nevermind) and at others raucous (especially when he smack-talked our own Ute Indians), his speech had people holding their bellies, laughing so hard. Like a stand up comedian. That funny.

Okay, I've been holding it in for way too long. I have to tell you the coolest part of the whole night.

So, I park about a block down from TKE, on the street, and as I get out of my car and onto the sidewalk, guess who's right there? Walking next to me? All by his lonesome? Sherman Alexie.

I don't know how y'all act around famous people, but believe it or not, I get very shy. So I smile at him, and sorta look at the ground. (Which is lame, because I'm walking toward TKE, books in hand. It's obvious I'm here to see him speak. I could at least say hi.)

Get this. He's a little ahead of me, and he immediately turns around and says, "I met you in L.A., didn't I?"

There were like 2,000 other people he met there too.

So I'm all, "Um, yes Mr. Alexie."

He points at me. "Now, don't tell me your name..."

Me (incredulous): "Oh gosh, there's no way you could remember my-"

Him: "Brodi. Right?"

Me (silent as I listen for a loud crack in the universe that I'm sure is coming): Mouth hangs open. Breathing gets rapid. Hyper-Brodi emerges from her cocoon inside my chest, where she's been buried since the sixth grade, when Matt Nance said her ears were so tiny and cute, and she got all twitterpated and couldn't stop panting.

Me: "Mr. Alexie. You. Just. Made. My. Life. I feel like a Beatle just remembered my name."

Him (laughing): "You and your friends were the ones in the t-shirts, right?"

I gasp as if he just handed me a billion dollar bill. I reach down to unbutton my sweater, and then flash him my red t-shirt. Okay, he may have backed up a step, because I sorta looked like a crazy trenchcoat flasher. He was noticeably relieved when I, indeed, had a shirt on under there, with the word "Violent" in bold black letters.

Him: "That's right. You're violent. And your friends were..."

Me: "Blasephemous and Inappropriate! Blasephemeous and Inappropriate!" Passers by were probably wondering why the blond chick had stopped Sherman Alexie on the sidewalk to shout "Blasephemous and Inappropriate!" at him.

Sherman Alexie Gems during his speech:

*He got in trouble at BEA for saying he wanted to beat up a woman because she had a Kindle. He says, "Apparently, Kindle readers don't understand metaphors."

*With a Kindle, there is no foreplay. (He proceeds to stroke the spine of his book).

*Talking about people who were bored by his speech and wanted to sneak out early, he says, "But you think to yourselves, 'If I leave everyone will think I'm a racist'."

*He wonders why every time he does an event, women feel compelled to wear turquoise jewelry.

*He says liberals in Utah have as much power as an amoeba on an amoeba on a tick clinging to a deer's ... um... bum. Then he quips, "But it's beautiful here."

*He jokes about living in Seattle. In his son's elementary school, there are "78 Lesbian couples who all adopted Asian girls, and all named them 'Grace'." So if you're sitting in class, chances are you're sitting by an Asian girl named "Grace Ming-Na Lowenstein."

*He called out Emily Wing Smith and led the entire audience in a chorus of Happy Birthday.

Later, I was in line behind Sara Zarr to get my book autographed. (Sara Z. and Sherman are peeps, you see, because that's how Sara Z kicks it. She told a story about how she heard Sherman speak maybe 6 years before her first book was published, and at the time she never, not in a googolian years, could've imagined the two of them would meet again as colleagues and nominees at the National Book Awards). I hope she blogs about that.

Anyway, so she's all huggy with Sherman, and then he gets to me and my book, remembers how to spell my name, and signs it like "To Brodi- Still the Coolest Name Ever, Sherman Alexie".

I stand there awkwardly for a moment.

Me: "I'm... I'm... speechless."

Sara Z (without missing a beat): "And that's saying something."

(Sherman Alexie, laughing at my joke. In fact, I said "This is Sherman Alexie, laughing at my joke" as I took the picture)

I learned something about Sara Zarr that night. She seems unflappable. Of course, she's real friends with Sherman Alexie (not dream friends, like me) but I really can't imagine Sara Z. ever flappable. We went to the Dodo afterward for Emily's birthday, and she didn't flap once.

After the Sherman "Name-Recall" incident, Hyper-Brodi talks to Unflappable Sara Zarr, and it can be summed up as follows:

Me: "Sara! Did I tell you about Sherman-""

Her: "Yes."

Me: "The one where he remembered my name?"

Her: "Yes."

Me: "Did I show you the street? Where he walked, and I walked, and we walked together, and I flashed him my chest?"

Her: "Yes."

Me: "Oh good. Wait a sec. We haven't left the building. How could I have shown you the street? Silly Sara. You want me to show you now?"

Her: "It's okay."

Me: "Hey Sara. Did I tell you Valynne got me Good 'n Plenty's for my b-day? I love them so much."

Her: "I hate black licorice."

Me: "Black licorice is supposed to be an upper."

Her: "Valynne got you an upper? Hmmm..."

Me: "Hey Sara. I bet if you eat a million Good 'n Plenty's for a million days in a row, you'll acquire the taste."

Her: "No."

Me: "Hey Sara. Did you see how Sherman Alexie signed my book? He laughed at my joke. He thinks I'm so funny. I would totally date him. Just kidding. He's married. He's married, right?"

(Me, Emily Wing Smith, Sara Zarr, Sherman Alexie, Valynne Nagamatsu, Bree Despain)

So how do y'all handle brushes with your own idols? Are you unflappable like Sara Z.? Or do you shake it like a bowl full of jelly in the presence of greatness, as I do? Answer, and you'll be entered in the drawing for a free book from my autographed book shelf.

Three FBF Winners this Week, and My List of Things That Must Go

Smokey the cat was very magnanimous this week. He refused to draw just one name. Instead, he drew three. So, Three Winners of Free Book Friday this week!

1. Heids
2. Becky
3. Jenilyn

Email me your top three choices and your address at brosam (at) gmail (dot) com.


It's Wednesday. How about an edition of my list of things that must go:

Thing 1. Stress Dreams

I’m used to having stress dreams every night, but last night’s dream got a little out of hand…

It all started when I was too impatient to wait for the elevator in a hotel. To speed things up, I shimmy down the hotel atrium on a line of bed sheets.

Then the hotel security guys corner me, and threaten to kick me out of the hotel for such a bone-arse move.

I say: "Don’t you know who I am? I’m Brodi Ashton."

I proceed to dance for them, flailing my arms about, sorta like a banshee.

But I can see this is not working. They don't know who I am.

The chase is on. I dart into the hotel restaurant, but the dining area has one construction flaw. The only way in or out is to walk on top of the tables.

I do this, apologizing all the way, and explaining to every diner that usually I get paid to dance on top of tables, and isn’t tonight their lucky night. I get to a hallway that leads to the elevators. But when the doors open, the inside car is 2 cubic feet.

I squeeze in successfully, all except my right foot. So, naturally, I chop it off and hit the button that says ‘roof’ on it.

A man is waiting for me on the roof, and as soon as I get off, he tells me I’m late, and ushers me to this amphitheater like that giant one in L.A. (Of course, I’m limping because of the missing appendage).

I get on the stage, and I start dancing for the audience, balancing on the stubby bone protruding from my cankle, spinning around it like a whirling dervish on a top.

My hair is long, thank goodness, because by this point all my clothes are gone.

The conductor urges me to start singing, but when I open my mouth, a bug crawls out. Then another. Then another.

Someone please interpret this dream for me. I honestly woke up thinking to myself Brodi, you are one seriously messed up chica.

Thing 2. Acronyms for television shows.

ANTM, HIMYM, SYTYCD, RHWONJ, DWTS, GG. Maybe I’m not meant for the texting generation, but I can never figure out what the darn show is. I sit there going, “Okay. ‘A’. What could A stand for? Ants. Albuquerque. Aardvark.”

Thing 3. Expiration Dates for Canned Goods.

I found a can of baked beans in my pantry the other day. Expiration date: Oct 2000.

Now, since Oct 2000, we’ve lived in London, Washington, D.C., and Salt Lake City. Which means I must have carted this can around every time we moved. Which sounds about right, since I don’t remember buying baked beans. I don’t even liked baked beans. But Canned Goods should be eternal foods, shouldn’t they?

Thing 4. Wobbly Tables at Restaurants.

You know those tables that clank back and forth every time you put your elbows on top? Or reach for your drink?

I had one of those tables at lunch yesterday. I kept folding up pieces of paper from my purse and shoving it underneath the platform on the floor, until it was floating on a bed of crumpled paper, but it never fixed the problem.

So, what must go for you this week?