Ask My Hubby Anything You Want! And... Kid C's First Day of School

Happy Monday Morning y'all.

I just realized the milk in my fridge has an expiration date that is past my deadline for my sequel EVERNEATH 2: Nikki Gets a Drivers License.

The Milk of Doom

Do you know what that means? I have until that milk curdles to finish my book.

So, instead of working on my book today, I will transfer the milk from the fridge to the freezer, in the hopes of slowing down the curdling process.

Thankfully I have more hours in the day to watch milk curdle because today was the first day of school.

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! The happiest day of the year.

From Left to Right: Kid B, Yoshi, Sling, Kid C

Kid C looks so old outside our house.

Then we walk him to school, and he looks like this:

Awwww.... Don't even think about touching him, kids! I'm watching you...

He looks so small, with a backpack down to his knees, and straps tangled with his sling. 

Crazy enough, his left-handed handwriting is almost as good as his right. 

[transition]

So, long story short... as a special treat to y'all, I won't be blogging the rest of this week. Instead, we will have a surprise visitor! 

Umm... it's my husband. (surprise)

I thought it would be fun if y'all would leave a question for him in the comments. You can ask him anything! 

ex: Sam, do you feel like you are in constant competition with Rafa for your wife's affection? 

Nothing's off limits! Well... almost nothing is off limits! So please help me with my deadline by asking Sam questions and stopping milk from curdling.

Two Different Ways to win an ARC of EVERNEATH... and Wisdom from Kid C

Hey y'all! 

First up, some items of note.*

*sidenote: I don't think I've ever used the phrase "items of note"

1. There are two contests going on to win an ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of EVERNEATH. 

One is at awesome apocalypsie-mate and debut author Gretchen McNeil's site. She is having a mega-giveaway treasure hunt with her own stellar-looking book POSSESS, and a couple other apocalypsie books like mine and SLIDE by Jill Hathaway.

The other is at another awesome apocalypsie-mate Jill Hathaway's blog. (Said author of SLIDE). She has an interview up with me and she is giving away an ARC of EVERNEATH.

2. EVERNEATH is available for pre-order. There are three places you can order from, and they are listed in my sidebar. (look a little to the right... more... there!)

3.  My fuse is short lately. I told Sam that normally it is "this big" (holding my thumb and forefinger about half an inch apart" and now it is "this biG" (squashing my thumb and forefinger together). 

I keep thinking this is a good excuse for snapping at him. It's not, I know.

To make my fuse even shorter (imagine my thumb and forefinger drawing blood, and touching bone to bone because of the force with which I am smushing them) I have Kid C literally very high on pain medication.

It doesn't make him tired. Or placid.

It makes him wander around aimlessly, imparting random bits of his wisdom.

Even as I'm typing this, we had the following conversation:

Kid C: "Everyone in the world has the best camera on earth, right?"

me: "Um, not necessarily."

C: "Yes they do. You wanna know what it is?" Then, in a low voice as if he was a magician revealing his biggest trick, "Your mind." Jazz hands. "You can click, and you can delete, and you don't even have to pay for it. If you wanted to buy a camera like your mind, it would cost thousands of dollars."

*Sigh*

I keep waiting for him to start talk about all the pretty colors in the air, and marveling at the way his hand moves.

He just said, "Brodi, are ya okay? Maybe I've been a little too rough on you."

Aw, Kid C. We'll get through this.

Kid C is on Pins and Needles... Literally. They're in his Arm.

We were five minutes away from leaving the park.

FIVE MINUTES!

When Kid C limped toward us, cradling his arm and crying.

An hour later we were at an Instacare getting x-rays:

Don't be deceived. That is not a smile, and he is not serene.

Two hours later, we were at Primary Children's Hospital, getting more x-rays:

Four hours later, at about 12:30 a.m. we had the diagnosis: Type II Supracondylar Humerus Fracture. It would need immediate surgery.

And by "immediate", they meant 7:30 in the morning. Kid C was thrilled:

We got to have a "sleep over" at the hospital, where just for fun, the nurses would wake us up every hour to "hug his arm" (check his blood pressure), "give his hand something to drink" (adjust his IV) and "make his finger light up" (check his oxygen saturation).

It was so fun.

The next morning, Kid C got to go for a ride in his bed. In his bed! The bed had wheels.

Then he went to sleep.

When he woke up, his throat was raspy and sore. Despite how many times we reminded him he had a tube down his throat, he was convinced he was getting a cold.

He kept saying, in the voice of a 60-year old smoker, "I can't believe I broke my elbow and I'm getting a cold at the same time."

When he was done with surgery, he got to order room service. Pancakes and rootbeer slushees. He hasn't stopped talking about it since. 

Some of his observations during the whole ordeal (often high on pain medication):

When Sam was trying to cheer him up: "Uh, Dad, can you say nothing?"

When Sam went to take a picture: "No pictures. Do not disturb."

Upon seeing his x-rays with the pins in his bone: "Um, what the heck is that?"

We told him it was his brain on drugs.

When the nurse attached a cord to his finger, and told him to "watch the monitor to see magic numbers pop up!", he said: "Ugh. This is beyond boring."

Every time a nurse or doctor went to touch his arm: "DON'T TOUCH IT! I'll move it." Wincing, he grabs the fingers of his right hand. "Okay. Where do you want it?"

Lamenting his bad fortune: "I won't be able to raise my hand. I can't even wiggle my broken bone. I can't even bow." (For all those occasions when bowing is required.)

Immediately after surgery: "I can't believe I just fell asleep all on my own. I slept through the whole thing!" and also: "You won't believe the dream I just had."

About every five minutes: "I can't believe I'm going to be left-handed from now on."

and: "I can't believe my handwriting is going to be so bad."

and: "People make chicken out of birds, right?" (I have no idea what this was in reference to...)

In reference to the $250 emergency room co-pay: "Now I know why hospitals cost so much. You get free tv, free video games, free icees, free room service, free bed. I love the hospital."

Yes, Kid C, that was the most expensive "free bed" you'll ever know.

I'm trying not to think this is some sort of karma for me because of all my complaining about deadlines. It's not, is it? Is it?!

Thing #1 and Thing #1: Pancreatic Cancer and Ice Cream... not in that order

There's so much going on around me, but I'm missing it all because I'm in the writing cave. So how about a quick Thing #1 and Thing #1?

Thing #1

My sister-in-law brought me over a big tub of homemade ice cream to thank us for helping them when their basement flooded while they were out of town. 

Of three things I am certain:

1. I love homemade ice cream.

2. There's a part of me, and I'm not sure how dominant that part might be, that longs to start another flood just to get more ice cream.

3. I am unconditionally, and irrevocably, going to break into their house tonight. 

Thing #1

My dad's latest scans show his tumors are still shrinking. (Most of you know he is battling Pancreatic Cancer). 

The Fam at the Huntsman Cancer Center

The doctors are pretty baffled. At his most recent visit, they said he is in the "Top 5% of chemo responders."

1. I don't know why we are the recipients of these little miracles, but I will take them!

2. And then I will ask for more...

So, what are the Things #1 in your life? 

Did you notice how I pluralized Thing #1?

In Which I Blow Up at Anyone who Mentions Deadlines, and even Those who Don't

The deadline for the sequel to EVERNEATH is coming up. Fast. And hard. So I've sorta had deadlines on the brain.

It reached a boiling point last night when Sam's entire extended family went to dinner. Above all the chatter that twenty people make, I kept hearing the word "deadline". 

I wasn't even part of the conversation, but I could hear the d-word being said at one end of the table. Over and over.

Were they discussing my deadline behind my back? Were they taking bets as to if I would make it or not? Were they consulting the odds-makers? (By the way, it's 4:1 that I'll make it.)

Finally, I snapped. "Could you all please stop talking about my deadline?!"

They looked at me like I was a little nuts. Then my sis-in-law pointed to something on the table. 

Ummm...

It's a lime. And it's "dead". Can you guess where I'm going with this?

Yep, that there is a dead lime. A DEADLIME. It was in my sis-in-law's Diet Coke. And it was all anyone could talk about.

Until I yelled at them.

Somebody help me.

In Which I try to Recap SCBWI, but really I just talk about a Toilet

Hey y'all.


It's good to be back. It's also bad to be back, because I had such a good time in L.A. meeting with friends and like-minded people (read "other crazy writers") and being inspired by such literary greats as Judy Blume, Richard Peck and Libba Bray. 


Also, just a warning, I took all of two pictures at the conference, and those two pictures were of the toilet in our hotel room. 


There's a reason for that. The toilet had two flusher buttons on top of it:

We figured out that the left flusher was sort of a "half-flush" option, I guess to be more environmentally friendly and less water-wasting. 


For the first couple of days, I pondered each and every trip to the bathroom, asking questions like, "Does what I accomplished in here warrant a larger carbon footprint?" and "Will the half-flush option be adequate?"


Then I would warn my roommates: "Just so you know, I half-flushed." Then I would warn strangers in the hallway: "Just so you know, I half-flushed."


Sometimes I would use the half-flush option, and then I feared that it wasn't enough, so I would half-flush two more times. 


By day three, I was tired of passing judgment on my trips to the bathroom. So I flipped the bird to the environment and full-flushed every time. 


And it felt good.


And yes, I did just spend the first half of the post talking about a toilet. 


Some other highlights:


*I was this-close to Judy Blume!

That lady looks like she's about to karate-shop Judy's arm.

*During dinner with my agent, I sat two tables away from Kyra Sedgwick and Kevin Bacon. I now count my degrees away from Kevin Bacon in "tables". 


*I heard Laurie Halse Anderson (SPEAK) speak.

She encouraged us to ask ourselves, in the words of T.S. Elliot, "Do I dare disturb the universe?"  


She also said, "Your muse is you." This makes it even more annoying when my muse doesn't show up for work. 


*Bruce Colville reminded writers: If you don't jump, the wings will never come.


*The amazing and eloquent Richard Peck spoke. 

He said: Unless you find yourself on the page very early in life, you will spend your life looking for yourself in all the wrong places. 


I love Richard Peck. At my first SCBWI conference two years ago, I told him my first book was currently on submission. And he asked, in his regal voice, "And what are you doing in the meantime?"


I thought about the answer he was looking for. I said, "Writing my next book."


He said, "That is the right answer."


So, directly after that conversation, I started actually writing my next book, because I didn't want to lie to someone like Richard Peck. That book was EVERNEATH. 


*I went to lunch with some awesome writers. 

(from the left) Josephine Angelini (Starcrossed), Bree Despain (The Dark Divine), Brodi Ashton (Everneath), Lindsey Leavitt (Princess For Hire),  Lani Woodland (Intrinsical), Leigh Fallon (Carrier of the Mark), Morgan Shamy (writer), Alexandra Monir (Timeless), Gretchen McNeil (Possess).

I stole this picture from Leigh Fallon's blog. She mentioned how the pic looks eerily like the Last Supper. It really does. But I prefer to think of it as the First Lunch. 


Okay, this post is getting really long. I'll have more stories about my toilet on Friday. 


But for now, I ask you, do you dare disturb the universe? Well? Do you?

Find Me at SCBWI and You'll Get a Surprise! hint: It's EVERNEATH swag!

Tomorrow, I leave for the SCBWI conference in L.A. 


I can't wait.


To celebrate, I have some special EVERNEATH swag for anyone who finds me there and says, "Hello."


Remember that awesome DEAD ELVISES logo my friend sent me? 

www.tarlsscribbles.com

Well, I have had it rearranged and printed on... guitar picks!

An actual Dead Elvis strummed with this guitar pick. I guarantee it.

They've got the DEAD ELVISES on the front, and EVERNEATH on the back, with the release date of January 2012. 


These awesome little commemorative doohickees will be in my purse, and if you come up and say hi to me, you'll get one! Whether you like it or not. No, seriously, even if I think you just happened to glance at me from across the room, I will leap frog over the other conference-goers and shove this pick into your cold dead hand.


I don't know why you are dead in this scenario. How did it get so dark in here anyhow? 


The point is, you can either take the picks nicely, in your hands, or you can take the pick between your eyebrows, chinese-star style.


Wait. Sam says that is not the point. Hold on one second... lemme see if I can locate the point...


Here it is. The point is, introduce yourself to me! And you'll get a treat! But not in a creepy way. Why did I need to clarify that? 


Argh! Does someone have a crash-course in appropriate self-promotion that I can take? 


Anyway, I'm easy to spot. I have blond hair, a red scarf, and I'm always looking off to the side.

And I usually have a zombie finger with red nail polish on my shoulder.

People have asked me what this finger is doing on my shoulder. I tell them it is the finger of my muse. She likes the red nail polish.


So, the point is, say hi to me at the conference, or I will sic my zombie muse on you. She will in turn shove the guitar pick down your...


Wait. Sam says that is not the point.


Ah, here it is. The point is, hope to meet you at the conference!