How Bree and Brodi Saved the Writing Retreat

Last weekend, my critique group went up to Midway for a writing retreat.

The Six. Not at the retreat, but I just really like this picture.

When we got there, we realized the air conditioning wasn't working. If there's one thing I've learned about my writers' group, it's that we can put up with a lot of things... except a broken a/c. 

So, as the pioneers of yore would've done, we called all the local repair shops. But since it was a Saturday AND a holiday weekend, we struck out. Although there was one repairman who said he'd come out for $130 an hour. 

I'm sorry, I don't have $130 an hour. But it did make me rethink my career choice. 

So Bree Despain and I did some investigating. 

Did you know there are two parts to an air conditioner? An inside and an outside? Well, the outside part - the air condenser - was vewy vewy quiet. It was clearly not working.

Not the actual air condenser. I forgot to take pictures.

To make a long story short (too late) we ripped a chunk of the fusebox out and took it to the hardware store, where I asked the hardware guy to replace all the little parts.

When we got back, we drew straws as to who was going to put the new part in, upon risk of electric shock. I drew the short straw.

Thinking of my safety, I was all, "Do we have rubber gloves anywhere?"

And Bree was all, "Oh yes! I could use those in case I have to pull your charred remains away from the fuse box!"

And I was like, "I meant for me!"

There were no rubber gloves, but I did find a dish rag. And Bree was all, "Excellent! All the better to clean up the bits of Brodi that will surely be scattered about."

To make a long story short, I put the new fuse doohickee in the fuser-mah-thingee and... it worked! And I wasn't electrocuted! And Bree stood there with her towel at the ready, looking disappointed.

I was so excited, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "I am the GODDESS of AIR CONDITIONERS!" That might be the first time anyone has ever screamed that sentence.

The rest of the day was spent recounting the heroic story of "The Day we Saved Air Conditioning" to friends and family and basically anyone who would listen. 

We couldn't stop talking about it. It was as if we had actually given birth to the air condenser. We described each labor pain in detail, and every once in a while, one of us would spontaneously shout, "Girl Power!"

I told Sam the story over the phone, and when he didn't show the appropriate level of awe, I handed the phone over to Emily Wing Smith to give her version, and then to Sara Bolton for yet another perspective.

Trust me, the next time I tell Sam about my awesomeness, he will be appropriately amazed.

How about you? Have you ever had a moment of triumph like this? I felt like I could do anything. ANYTHING, I tell you!

Next, I'm going to build a car, using only a gum wrapper and belly button lint.

You tell me: Does it Bother You to Read about Puke?

Housekeeping:

1. The winner of the EVERNEATH arc is up on Debbie's and Windy's blogs. It's the first book I've ever signed, and I was a little nervous. Seriously, why would someone want my autograph? So, I embellished a little. 

Now, it's actually worth something.

2. Each Tuesday and Thursday, I will be posting exclusive quotes from EVERNEATH on the EVERNEATH facebook page. The first two quotes (introducing you to Nikki and Jack) are up. Scroll down the wall to find them. (I just saw I have 199 "likes". Quick! Go be #200!)

On to the post:

More Evidence a Critique Group is Invaluable

The other evening, we had a critique group, and I submitted my first couple of chapters. In them, one of the characters pukes. 

Here's where an astute critique group comes in. Bree Despain was very concerned about the puking. 

Bree: "But... where did it land."

me: "Where did what land?"

Bree: "The puke. I mean, you said it was 'firehose proportions'. Did it... spray everywhere?"

me: "I don't know. It was just puke."

Bree: "But then... she... talks afterward."

me: "Yeah?"

Bree: "I mean, does she have little bits of... puke stuck in her teeth?"

me: "Fine, I'll give her a piece of gum."

Bree: "But... then won't the gum have little bits of puke in it?"

me: "Fine. She can rinse her mouth out, and then she can chew the gum."

Bree: "And then... what about her nose-"

me: "She'll blow her nose!"

Bree: "And then you say some of it lands on that guy's shoe."

me: "Yeah..."

Bree: "I mean, that is just disgusting. And the smell..."

me: "Okay, how about this? When she feels it coming on, she leans over the railing of the porch, and cleanly pukes in the bush. The wind is blowing in the opposite direction, so there's no smell. After she pukes, she takes the garden hose, washes her mouth out, farmer-blows her nose, and then unwraps a piece of gum."

Bree (considering): "That doesn't seem very realistic."

me: "ARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!"

She's right though. The last thing I want people imagining when they read my book is the pungent smell of rancid puke. I mean, sure it's fine for the blog on a Friday morning. But in a book? Not so much. 

What do y'all think? 

I don't know about you, but when I'm at a movie, and I see the couple wake up in the morning... and kiss... in bed... all I can think is, "Hello! Disgusting morning breath!"  So I can totally see where she's coming from.

Please Vote on our Barry Manilow Cover Band Name

It's Friday, yo. 

So, my crit partner and BFF Emily Wing Smith has a new book coming out called BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE. 

The story involves a girl, a breakup, a guy, a road trip, and Barry Manilow. (Description my own. It fails to convey the awesomeness of this story.)

Anywho, for the launch party, my critique group The SIX (very apt description, because we are all six feet tall) decided to form a Barry Manilow cover band. 

The band members.

The fact that none of us are very musical didn't enter into the decision-making process.

Emily herself will be on the bongos.

Bree Despain on the maracas.

Valynne Nagamatsu on the piano.

Sara Bolton and Kim Reid on backup vocals. (We don't know who they'll be backing up. We're just hoping one of us emerges as a star).

I will be on the key-tar. 

The severed hands are included.

Guess who's invited to the launch party?

You! Yes, you!

BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE RELEASE PARTY

Thursday, April 28
7:00 p.m
King’s English Bookshop
1511 South 1500 East,  Salt Lake City

Mark your calendars!

So, we are trying to decide on a band name, and here's where you come in. Please vote on your favorite, or if you have a suggestion, you can enter it in the comments. 

A. The Six Merry Manilows

B. Raindrops Keep Falling on my Dead (submitted by Douglas Cootey)

C. The Cuckoo Cabanas (submitted by Josh Berk)

D. Rico Wore a Diamond (submitted by Saundra Mitchell)

E. The Barely Manilows 

And if you suggest a title, and we choose it, we will dedicate a song to you. Thank you for playing!

The Treat Down my Shirt, and how I owe Phil Mickelson a Virtual Kiss on the Cheek

Happy Friday, yo.


*Don't forget to sign up with Windy A if you want to be included on a list of local (to Utah) bloggers to pass around an ARC of my book EVERNEATH.


1.  So, last night my critique group (the SIX, ranked in order of crazy on the sidebar) had... a critique group. That sounds oddly redundant, but adequately explanatory. Anywho,  here's a list of what everyone is working on:


Me: EVERNEATH 2, Revenge of the Na'vi, 


Bree Despain: The Dark Divine 3: Daniel gets a Cavity, 


Emily Wing Smith: Her next book about a quirky girl, a camcorder, and a television show. (I don't know if I'm allowed to share more.) 


Kimberly Reid is working on Haunted: an awesome story that will change the way you think about time and space forever. 


Sara Bolton: Mostly she is working on feeding and changing her newborn, who has a tendency to puke on cue, especially when confronted with stupid questions. 

Emmi Bolton, in a rare non-puking moment.

On the side, she is working on a Historical fantasy, about a girl who becomes a knight. 


Valynne Nagamatsu: A collaborative book about a girl and a boy obsessed with making horror movies. 


For aspiring writers, I can't stress enough the importance of finding a good critique group who understands you and your work. I can honestly say I wouldn't be published if it weren't for these writers. 


So, last night, during the discussion, I went to pop a cough drop in my mouth. But I accidentally missed (Hey, aiming for your mouth is hard, especially without a mirror) and the cough drop went down my shirt to where it nestled comfortably in my cleavage. 


I dug around to pull it out, and along with the cough drop I pulled out a piece of popcorn. 

Well, where would you store yours?

My friends started cracking up. They asked me when I had last eaten popcorn. I told them I had it for breakfast (because it's smart to start the day with nutrition). So the popcorn had been stuck down my shirt for about 12 hours without me noticing.

I asked Sam what he thought this event said about me.

Sam: "I think it's a testament to the breadth of your cleavage."


Me: "Please, for the love of everything, don't ever say 'testament to the breadth of your cleavage' ever again. Never ever."


 2. A couple of days ago, my dad and mom went down to Houston, TX, to MD Anderson Hospital. (Known for their awesome cancer-fighting ninja skills). 


At first he couldn't get in, because MD Anderson is in high demand, and we weren't being successful in jumping through the right hoops. So we pulled every string we could think of, and called in every favor, which resulted in Phil Mickelson... 

Yeah, this guy...

...calling his good friend, the head doctor at MD Anderson. An hour later, my dad's cell phone rang, and it was the head doctor. He arranged for my parents to get in with a pancreatic cancer specialist later that week. 


The doctor was blunt, spirited, and quick to tell my dad his first mistake is thinking we don't have a fight. He then detailed a plan A,B,C,D, and E for extending my dad's life. 


I love doctors like this, and I'm grateful for people like Phil Mickelson who would do my family a solid. *High-fives Phil* *Slices one wide right, just for him*


Okay. This post is way too long.


Anyone going to the Utah book blogger social tomorrow night? Anyone doing anything fun this weekend? Can you join me in thanking Phil? Anyone know how I can get ahold of Lance Armstrong's doctor? We might as well assemble the best team possible...

Call me! (I'm talking to you... Yes, you!) Writers, join us for a conference call to learn about Breaking into the Business, and other stuff

Hey y'all.

Would you like to have a conference call with me? One where you don't even have to do the talking?

If yes, read further.

If no, then please don't tell me.*

*because I don't think my fragile ego could take the rejection right now. Then I have to wonder why you're reading my blog if you don't want to have a conference call with me... is it my voice? My frizzy hair? My big butt? Tell me!

Those of you who answered,Yes...

...have I got some news for you! Mark your calendars for December 16th at 9:00 EST. (That's tomorrow, for those of you less calendarically inclined).

Many of you are familiar with my critique group The SIX (we are ranked in order of most to least crazy in the sidebar, although there's been some discussion as to a revote to usurp the current number one. Which is me). 

We've been asked to participate in a conference call for writers, where we will be discussing things like:

How we got our agents

Stories of our roads to publication

Query tips

Getting the most out of our critique groups

Which conferences are worth attending

etc.

All you have to do is call in, and you can listen to our group (along with F.O.B. Robin Weeks as moderator) which includes authors: 

Emily Wing Smith

whose new book Back When You Were Easier to Love comes out in April with Dutton (Penguin).

Bree Despain

whose book The Lost Saint (the sequel to The Dark Divine) comes out December 28th.

And me!

EVERNEATH

(Okay, so apparently I have a little bit of cover envy)

Also, Kimberly Webb Reid, whose agent is submitting her book to editors...

and Valynne Nagamatsu and Sara Bolton, both of whom are excellent writers, crit partners, and played integral parts in my own (and everybody's) road to publication.

This is your chance to hear just how high and nasally my voice can be! (I always have nightmares that HarperCollins cancels the contract when they hear my voice for the first time). 

The instructions on how to participate can be found on author David Farland's Author Advisory site.  (Really, it involves dialing a number. You can even raise your hand and ask a question by pressing 5*).

I'm very excited because this is the first time anyone's asked me to do anything! So please listen in, and ask a question, because I don't want to look like a total dork sitting on the phone, talking about the super-weird piece of bellybutton lint I recently found. Which is what I will talk about if there are no questions.

Because, if a conference call takes place in a forest, will the tree even fall down?

Something to think about today.

So, who will be there? And if you're not going to be there, what's everyone up to this week? What can I buy an 8-year-old boy for Christmas? 

*Added:
I'm just going to post the instructions here, because they're so easy. Call tomorrow night at 9 pm EST.


1: At the appointed time, dial
1-218-862-7200
(long distance charges may apply, depending on your phone plan)

2: Enter the Conference Code: 245657

3: To raise your hand and ask a question, dial 5*

4: To Mute yourself, dial 4*

Revisiting the 80's: a.k.a., the Five Stages of Grief

Happy Monday y'all.

Thanks for all the entries in the "Help Brodi Express her Feelings" contest. I learned a lot from the comments. For instance, emotions often lead to gastrointestinal issues.

And the random winner of the signed copy of PARANORMALCY, chosen by the Random Number Generator, is...

Rebecca!

Please email me your address at: brodiashton (at) gmail (dot) com.

As an added prize, I will use the emotions you gave me somewhere in my book. I don't know if you'll consider that a prize, but I think it's pretty cool.

Moving on...

Sam and I went to an 80's Prom Party over the weekend.

Me and Sam: When he said he was going in "Tighty Whities",  I was hoping he meant something else.

In anticipation of the event, we had to search for 80's clothes.

We went from Denial: "There's no way we're dressing up."

to Anger: "Who actually plans to revisit the 80's? Even the 80's knows it should stay dead. It was the 80's that took its own life in the early 90's, when it felt useless and unloved."

to Bargaining: "I'll tease my bangs if you wear the pink suspenders you wore last night..."

to Depression: "I swear it wasn't that long ago that these stirrup pants used to fit..."

and finally to acceptance: "Molly Ringwald would've killed for this outfit! It's okay to cut the fingers off my Isotoner* gloves, isn't it?"

*Side note: My mom gives me a pair of Isotoner gloves every year for Christmas. I have boxes and boxes of them, unopened, in all sorts of colors. Every year, when I unwrap the gloves, I say, "Thanks! I totally needed these!" And then they go to the dedicated "Isotoner Glove Drawer" in my dresser.

**Side note to the side note: It's okay I told that story, my mom doesn't read my blog.

At the party, I sang karaoke with my writer peep Valynne (#4 crazy). During the musical interlude, I showed off the move that got me countless wrist corsages in high school.

Here's a shot with my writer's group, The SIX, and I'm sure y'all recognize the man in the middle. (Rick Springfield). 

 

Me, Kim, Sara, Emily, Bree, Valynne. Otherwise known as, #1, #6, #5, #2, #3, and #4. (We rank ourselves in order of most to least crazy). 

Here's a picture of The OTHER SIX. (That's how we affectionately refer to our hubbies.)

 

Stand back, ladies. They're taken. Unless you really want them. Then we're open to negotiations.

The men did an awesome rendition of "Turn Around Bright Eyes," and rumor has it there's video evidence of the performance. I'm hoping to unearth it for Wednesday's blog.

How was all y'all's weekend? 

The Dark Divine Launch Party and the Explanation of the Booby Jar

How was all y'all's New Years? Good?

Bree Despain's launch party was on Saturday at the King's English (indie bookstore in Salt Lake City).

She did a fabulous job, and I think she may have secured herself a place as #1 crazy in our writing group when she showed the crowd her revision process, involving roughly 465 color-coded tabs and highlights, each color representing a different aspect of writing. Seriously, we should vote now. (Added: Thanks to Melissa for the pic)

All in favor of Bree for #1 Crazy? Aye! (In the pic above, she's raising her hand too.)

Bree packed the house, and the bookstore sold out. I've never seen that happen.

Our writing group's official t-shirts came in.

 (Sara B. and Kim R., modeling the new shirts with Sarah W.)

I went into the back room of the bookstore to change, and when I finally squeezed myself in (using a shoe horn and a nearby oil slick), I realized what Valynne meant by "they run a little small".

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I could read the make and model of my bra.

So I put a v-neck black shirt over the t-shirt. But I still wanted to feel a part of my critique group, so I pulled down at the "v" and flashed everyone wherever possible.

Not only was it gratuitously tight, but I made it worse by looking like a flasher.

After I flashed Matt Kirby, he said, "Brodi, you have turned awkward moments into an art form."

(Matt Kirby and the non-awkward Sara Zarr)

Emily Wing Smith kept saying the shirts "amplify our ample racks" or something to that effect, which meant she owed a lot of quarters to the "Booby Jar". (Every time someone mentions boobies, or refers to them, that person must donate a quarter to the jar. To give you an idea of how much we talk about them, we're planning on the jar financing a group cruise.)

I met a lot of blog readers in person, so thank you to all of you who came!

Here are blog readers Mary and Alana with Emily Wing Smith.

Here are Ben Ballou, Cam Ballou, me (in my v-neck, in a rare moment of non-flashing) and Heather Zahn Gardner. Ben, Heather and I went to Junior High school together.

I also got to reunite with my class from the BYU writing conference over the summer. I felt like there were so many familiar faces, I sorta grew accustomed to introducing people, culminating in this moment:

me: "Elana, this is Kim. Have you two met?"

Elana: "Um, Brodi, Kim and I have been in the same critique group for years."

me: "Right. Sorry. Here, have you met Bree?"

Elana: "Years ago. In our critique group."

Nerts!

Finally, blog reader Robin (who lurrrves spreadsheets) sent me a custom made spreadsheet to document my Diet Coke intake in 2010. Isn't that nice? I was trying to explain it to my family, and I was all, "It's got like, a bunch of columns, and a bunch of rows, and I put in a number and it magically gives me another number. It's in a program called Ex-ell. Exx... celll... or something."

I told them I wanted to show it on the blog but I had no idea how. My bro-in-law D says, "Lemme guess. You took a picture with your iPhone."

How did he know?

Do you see the awesomeness that is the spreadsheet? Can you imagine the depression at the end of this year if I'm vigilant and record every diet coke?  The last column should read "percent chance that your skin will fall off due to over consumption".

How was everyone's New Year? Do your kids start school today like mine? Are you jumping for joy too?