My Date with Rafa (video included)... and Some Other Guys were there too.

Howdy y'all.

I'm back. I'm sunburned. And I saw Rafa perform his most famous move ever...

Yes, that is firsthand video of Rafa picking his wedgie, a feat he tackles before every single point.

I also saw him do some of this:

His unreturnable serve- A feat almost as difficult and intricate as the wedgie-pick. 

Yep. I was in tennis heaven. At one point Rafa and his teammate looked like they were in trouble, and so I pulled a move from one of my favorite movies The Natural, where the mysterious woman in white stands in the crowd and inspires Robert Redford out of his slump. 

Then they live happily ever after.

Glenn Close, willing her lover to do better.

The only problem was, I left my white hat in the car (true story) and my spare hat was camouflage. So I stood up and immediately blended in with my surroundings.

The mysterious woman in beige. Not the same effect.

It was okay. Rafa and the other guy eeked out the win. In an interview afterward, Rafa said he felt something magical from the crowd, but when he turned to look, he didn't see anyone. Stupid camouflage hat. 

I also surprised my parents with second-row tickets for their anniversary to see Roger Federer.

Federer, up close and hot. Also, hawt. 

Federer totally dominated his opponent. He took the first set 6-0, and was up 2-0 in the second set when the other guy (Chela) finally won a game. 

The crowd went nuts, trying to support the wounded underdog. Chela smiled and waved, and when the noise died down, he said loudly, "It's okay, Fed. Shake it off. You've got this." So funny.

Palm Springs by the Numbers:

Number on the thermometer: 90

Number of rows separating me from Federer: 2

Number on the sunscreen bottle: 70

Number of icy lemonades ingested: 42

Number of wedgie picks: 864 (862 from Rafa, 2 from me)

Number of times my mom told the people around us that they were sitting next to a soon-to-be-famous author: 1,748. 

Thanks, mom. 

I'll have more about the second half of our trip (Disneyland) on Wednesday, featuring standing in line behind Punky Brewster. For reals. No lie. 

So, how was all y'all's week? Sorry I couldn't blog. There are only two kinds of hotels that don't offer wi-fi: the really really expensive ones, and the really really cheap ones. Guess which one we were in?

And what do you think of Rafa's wedgie pick? 

Sitting in the Airport

So, I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight to Palm Springs to board. Don't believe me?

Me. Trying not to look stupid while taking my own picture.

I'm not sure why someone wouldn't believe me, but I felt the picture was necessary. 


Here are some headlines I anticipate for this trip:


1. Brodi Spends half of Advance for front row seats to see Rafa do this:

2. Brodi and Rafa will become best friends, just like she always dreamed. (Seriously, she has this dream several nights a week. Nothing naughty, they're strictly platonic. They just have so much in common. She also likes to pick her wedgies.


3. Kid C picks a fight with all the Pirates of the Caribbean.


4. Kid B pukes on the plane. It's okay, Sam's flying with the kids separately. I'll be safely out of the splash zone.


5. Disney will overcharge us for the privilege of existing in the happiest place on earth.


Ope. We're boarding. Will blog later! 


Love you all. 


Bro

I'll Pack my Bags, and Keep my Eyes Fixed on the Sun

This weekend, I'll be packing.

Because next week, I'm going to be here:

Watching this guy:

Rafa and his bicep.

And these guys:

Roddick and Roger Federer

Do this:

And this:

Can you guess what I'm doing? 

Just kidding. It should be obvious. I'm going to Disneyland. But before I see Mickey, I'm meeting my parents, and my secret lover Rafa, down in Palm Springs for the BNP Paribas Open.

I'll be tweeting pictures live from the event, so if you want to follow along, you can find me here: http://twitter.com/Brodiashton.

I can't wait, because I love tennis, and I get to spend time with my dad. And I need to feel the sun shine on my face. Blogging will be sporadic, but if I have wi-fi, I will blog.

We're going to have an extra day in L.A. Anyone have any ideas on what we should see? The Grove? Some sort of famous chinese theater? I need ideas!

Yes, Write what you Know, but also, Write what you DON'T KNOW: Some backstory to EVERNEATH

Wanna hear something crazy?


EVERNEATH was not my first attempt at a book. It wasn't even my first finished book.


I completed EVERNEATH about 7 years after my first attempt, which was a really stupid chick-lit novel, about a woman who has a baby and thinks her life is over. (Kid C had just been born, but that totally didn't have anything to do with it.) The main character sat in a corner and cried a lot, occasionally sneaking sideways glances at the nuclear device across the room, otherwise known as a baby.

Me, wondering about a return policy.

I never finished the book, because in my mind, there was only one logical conclusion: The device goes off, everyone dies. And who says chick-lit has run its course? 


I was writing what I knew, and what I knew was Post partum depression. Of course, at the time, I didn't know it was "post partum depression". I thought it was "Why didn't everyone tell me my life would suck after children? Is this like the best kept secret, because misery loves company?"


I got help.


Three years later, I had two children, and I thought for sure any attempt to write would be lost among diapers and baby bottles. 

If we'd had a third, I totally could've fit all three in here.

But then, like most people, I adapted. I found minutes here and there, stuck between the couch cushions, behind the toaster, hidden in my husband's sock drawer. The more minutes I found, the more I strung them together until I had a routine. (Also, I stopped cooking. Never looked back). 


And out of that routine, I wrote my very first book. And completed it! I loved my little book, and I knew my little book and I were going to go far. 


No, it wasn't EVERNEATH. 


Again, I wrote about what I knew. My first book was about a snarky, blond-haired, teenage school reporter, who also happened to moonlight as an alien-hunter. Besides the teenage part and the alien-hunter part, the character was me. Or at least, my voice. So easy to write. Just like writing this blog. 


I revised and revised and soon I found an agent. Then we revised and revised, and submitted my book. 


And here's where everything stalled. Kiersten White had a great post on this the other day, where she likened the process to two diverging lines at Disneyland. You never know how fast... or how slow... your line is going to go.

Everyone wants the same thing: to get on the boat! And get published.

I watched as some of my friends, who were at about the same point in their careers as me, shot to the front, hopped on the ride, and proceeded directly to the moon, where they lassoed the stars and brought them from the heavens to replace their porch lights.


While my book floundered. 


I met Richard Peck at the SCBWI L.A. conference almost two years ago, and he asked me what I was doing while I was waiting to hear back from editors. 


I answered enthusiastically, lying out of my arse. "I'm writing the next book, of course!"


The problem was, every book I wrote sounded exactly like my first book: same plucky teenage heroine, who kicks-a while simultaneously making witty comments.


Sam said to me one day, after reading some of my work, "You're never going to be able to write a different character."


And I was all, "But I want to write about a strong female!"


Sam: "Are snark and pluck the only things that make a female strong?" 


To me, them there were fightin' words. Partially because I like to fight, but partially because he was right. 


I thought of the opposite of that first character. Maybe a dark-haired, broken girl, who sometimes doesn't have the right things to say. Maybe her strength isn't as easy to pinpoint at first. Maybe it comes from somewhere besides the funny bone. Maybe it comes from a dark place. 


Maybe she wasn't always like this, but she'd been through something unspeakable.


The question was: what had she been through?


And that's how EVERNEATH was started: as an exercise to prove my husband wrong (which is reward enough in itself), a challenge to test myself, a concerted effort to WRITE WHAT I DON'T KNOW.


The more I pushed against my own boundaries as a writer, the more I realized that maybe this wasn't just an exercise. I fell in love with the book, and after my first book crashed and burned in submission hell, I couldn't wait to go through it all again with EVERNEATH.


And that love would be tested. Without going into too much detail, at one point I had to choose between my faith in EVERNEATH, and my first agent. Never underestimate the importance of finding an agent who is passionate, PASSIONATE, about your book.


Maybe there's no better test for your bond to a book. I parted ways with my original agent (yes, I died a little) and found my better half Michael Bourret, who saw the same quiet strength in Nikki that I saw. And he just might be a brother from another mother.

Michael Bourret. He likes me and my book, just the way we are.

So, yeah, my particular Disneyland line hit a few twists and turns, and the occasional land mine, but in the end, it was MY line. I own it. 


Those of you who are in line (and aren't we all?) own your line. OWN YOUR LINE. Write what you know. And sometimes, write what you don't know. See where it takes you. Try not to pay attention to other lines.


You'll never shed your skin if you don't stretch it. 


So, what are your lines like? Any twists and turns you'd like to share?  

My Trip with Doctor Who, and How a Small Child was Maimed at the Book Blogger Social

Happy Monday y'all.


How about some Thing 1 and Thing 1!

Thing 1:
Doctor Who visited me in my sleep last night. For those of you who don't know, Doctor Who is a time-travelling man/alien who saves the world a lot. 

Dr. Who and Rose. They made me cry a lot.

Last night, I dreamed I got to go on one of his exciting adventures.  Where would we end up? Ancient Rome? Shakespearean London? Or... a thousand years into the future? 


No. He took me to 1989 to see the filming of that Patrick Swayze classic Roadhouse. You know, the one where Swayze plays a tough bouncer hired to straighten out a dirty bar? 

It's his way... or the highway.

Yeah, I wasn't familiar with this movie either. I have no idea where it was hiding out in my sub conscience.


Before you ask, no, I didn't get to see Mr. Swayze utter his most famous lines:


"Pain don't hurt."


and


"Nobody ever wins a fight."


and finally,


"My way... or the highway."


I asked the Doctor what we were doing here, and he looked at me like, "Duh, it's your dream. Isn't that a question for your therapist?"


I'm inclined to agree with him. 

Nobody ever "wins" a fight! Except the last guy standing...

Thing 1:
We went to the Utah Bool Blogger Social Saturday night. Utah is home to a staggering amount of book bloggers, and twice a year they get together to party with the local authors.


And when I say party, I mean party. Want proof? Check out this candid pic:

Authors Matt Kirby, Bree Despain, and myself.
Photo taken by Heather Gardner Photography. 

This picture popped up on the internet after the party. I love it. Bree and I look thoroughly unimpressed, and Matt looks a little disgusted. 


I'm here to tell you, that was not representative of the evening! Heather has promised to give us a little more notice before she snaps a candid picture next time.


Overheard at the party:


-Emily Wing Smith and I, taking turns to see who could cough up a lung first. (I won)


-Bree and Emily, having a discussion that involved the phrases, "Who did you fork that one time?" 
It's not like it sounds. They have both had accidents where they nearly impaled a bystander with a fork. 


-Matt Kirby said afterward that the "Who did you fork" conversation would make my blog. He claims his blog-worthy-statements-detection-skills are running at about 98%.


-During the book swap, Chersti Nieveen trampled a small child to get her hands on Emily Wing Smith's ARC of BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE.


-She later swore the child was really the devil's spawn, and deserved to be trampled. 
Here's a picture of the unfortunate demon child:

Don't be fooled by her angelic disguise.

Here's a pic that better captures the spirit of the event.

Top: Matt Kirby, Bree Despain
Bottom: Chersti Nieveen, Emily Wing Smith, Leisha Maw

Because nothing screams "Party!" like Bree Despain wearing Princess Leia Buns made out of lightbulbs. 


So, what did y'all do over the weekend? Were you at the social? (If so, give a holla in the comments). Did you see any good movies? Did you trample any small children?

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...

The Story to Topple the Story that Topples Star Wars, and Locals can read Everneath early

Hey y'all.

Three Things!

1. If you thought Monday's post had a bargain, wait til you see this. (Thanks to F.O.B. Leisha for pointing this out).

For sale is: The Story to Topple the Story that Topples Star Wars.

And it only costs $53.78 to buy it outright. 

The seller description is pretty funny too, if you want to check it out.

2. Last night, I was working in my study with the door locked. Suddenly Kid B was knocking on the door, saying what sounded like, "Hat! Monny Hat!" Before I could answer, he ran away.

Now, if you are a regular to my blog, you know that Kid B doesn't really talk. So I assumed he was just talking nonsense.  I went out to find him, and apparently, "Hat" was exactly what he was saying. 

Because nobody would want work on their computer while stark naked. That's just wrong.

He's fully nekked otherwise, but at least he has his hat on. Otherwise, it would be embarrassing.

3. Are you in Utah? Do you want to read my book before it comes out?

F.O.B. (Friend of the Blog) Windy Aphayrath is kindly organizing a locals only blogger tour of an ARC of EVERNEATH. (That's my book, in case I haven't mentioned it.) We won't have ARC's for a few months, but I'm dedicating one of my personal copies to this tour!

If you are interested in getting on the list, sign up at her blog: http://windyaphayrath.blogspot.com/2011/03/for-everneath.html.

I'm so grateful she's taking the time to organize this! So go on over and sign up!

That is all. This weekend I'm going to the Utah Blogger/Author Social. Anyone else going?

Anyone new to the blog and you want to introduce yourself? Any lurkers out there want to de-lurk and say "Hi"?
 
Don't be scared. We don't bite. And we're only deadly when it comes to our fish.