Stuck with me? Lucky you!

Brodi will not be posting today.  She's had some unexpected family things come up that she needs to attend to.  She begged me not to post on her blog today.  I pleaded with her to allow me to...I won!  She said as long as I don't show any pictures of me shirtless, in bicycle shorts or in a fedora, I could post here.

I wanted to go through some of the latest happenings in our house.  Boy C is rocking it in 2nd grade and he is is always thinking...the other day, he wanted to go over to his friend Z's house.  I told him he could but he needed to come home at 6pm.  He stopped, looked at me and said, 'Sam, its better if you call over there at 6pm, I have too much going on in my head to remember what time to be home. Bye.'

I bought a new Betta fish.  Yeah, I know what you are saying 'You are the stupidest person alive.'  Why?  Because we kill Betta fish and we don't know why.  Here is our history   Well, Brodi was out of town and I decided to give it another go...Shadow is our new lovely fish.   I sat down with the bosses at our local fish store and told them our long sordid history of killing fish.  I quickly learned that I should not take fish for a walk, feed them ground beef and that I should not give them a bath with soap and shampoo.  With this new knowledge, I feel like Shadow could live many, many days with us happily.


I thought about starting up the exercise program 'P90X.'  I would totally do it if it was just a lot easier.  Don't they realize how many people are not going to do their program because they make it so hard?  If they added donut breaks or reading breaks or just said 'Don't try so hard here, take it easy' then I would be much more inclined to go for it.  Oh well.  I guess I will have to just continue on with my "book reading, television watching and occasionally bust out a dance move" exercise routine. 


We have lived in some cold places with cold windy winters.  We have lived in Blackfoot, Idaho...Denver, Colorado...Washington DC...London, England...all terribly cold in the dead of winter but few things have prepared us for the past couple of days.  It was 'take away your breath' kind of cold.  My trusty 1974 Scout would not even start (but truthfully, the Scout doesn't like to start even on warm days...its picky on which days it likes to start and thats part of its 'charm').  But now it is a toasty 25 degrees...I have got my tanktop on and I am going to go out to enjoy the sun.

Brodi will be back on Monday.  Unless we can create enough of an uprising where the readers demand that I take over this blog immediately...yeah, even my mom thinks that is a bad idea.  Come back on Monday and enjoy the regular musings of Brodi.  Thanks!

New York Shenanigans, Entry #2: The Team at Balzer and Bray, and The deliciousness of the Kentucky Hot Brown

So, we made it to number 4 on my top 38 things in New York. I don't know why it takes me forever to complete lists. FOB Jenni Elyse pointed out in the comments Monday that it took me over two years to get through the "Top 25 Things About Me" list, and even then I only made it to #17. (I think the last one was "Sometimes I talk to inanimate objects.)

Anyway, moving on. 

5. I got to meet my editor, and the team at Balzer+Bray and HarperCollins. 

a. Here's Kristin in her office. 

She's thinking "Someone take that girl's camera away!"

Kristin is a big deal. You can tell because she has a window, and I learned that windows in New York City are prime real estate. Windows are like gold. They are currency. As in, "That car will cost you an arm and a leg, or you can just gimme your window."

That's how New Yorkers negotiate. Most New Yorkers have to pay the arm and the leg, because everyone has an arm and a leg, but nobody has a window.

b. I also got to meet the Balzer (Alessandra) and the Bray (Donna). 

There are no pictures of them. Someone warned me that if I took a picture of Alessandra, she would make sure I'd never receive a window in any city. 

Despite the threat, they were both charming, and Alessandra delivered a kick-a speech the next day at the conference.

c. I met Kristin's right hand. I also met Sara Sargent, Kristin's assistant, and an editor in her own right. Rite? Wryte?

Sara and Kristin. My Book is in their hands.

Sara and I bonded over tennis (she played in college) and Rafa (she doesn't give me strange looks when I suddenly blurt stuff like, "I want to be his wedgie!")

d. I met the lone man on the Balzer+Bray HarperCollins team, Jordan Brown. 

This was very exciting. I wanted to take pictures, but I didn't want to scare The Man, because they are so rarely spotted in the wilds of the HarperCollins jungle. 

I observed The Man for several long minutes, though, and was pleasantly surprised to learn his eating and drinking habits, and social customs, are very similar to mine.

I stole this from his Twitter account.

At the meet-and-greet, Michael and Jordan talked mostly to each other. And the rest of the girls mingled. It was like a junior high mixer.

e. I met so many other wonderful people on the sales, marketing, and publicity side.

I won't try to name them all, for fear that I'll leave someone out, and for bigger fear I won't keep all their names straight, and for biggest fear this list will be way too long.

Okay, on to number... Six? We're only on six? Who's idea was it to put alphabetical sub-numbers? 

6. Sara Zarr killed at her keynote speech. 

She was incredible, moving, entertaining, everything you want in a speech. She received a standing ovation for her words, and it was well deserved. I am honored to know her.

7. I got to hang with my niece Leena. 

That's us at Lombardi's Pizza, where the air is so thick with the smell of garlic that it's impossible to get a clear picture.

Just kidding. That picture was taken by a tourist who was intent on disproving the theory, "It's as easy as point and click!"

Later, we got to visit Leena in her natural habitat, the Manhattan School of Music.

She lives inside the school, in an incredibly messy dorm room. I found myself very jealous she gets to live this experience. It's just like Anna and the French Kiss! Although Leena assures me there is no french kissing going on. 

9. I learned what a Kentucky Brown ... something is. 

At lunch with Michael and Kristin, I saw a strange menu item called a Kentucky Brown something. I can't believe I can't remember the name. I'm thinking "Kentucky Brown Boy", but that can't be right, can it? I mean, that sounds a little... wrong. 

Anyway, the dish was a piece of brioche, with turkey and bacon on top, smothered by beschamel sauce. 

I couldn't get the picture before I'd already taken a few bites.

Kentucky Hot Brown! That's what it was called. And I'm suing the restaurant for making my jeans too tight.

Okay, let's call it quits there. I'm exhausted, and all I can think about is the Kentucky Hot Brown, and how I'd fly to New York just to eat it again. 

Enough about me. How about all y'all? Speaking of "y'all", I met a fellow writer Bryan Bliss, who assumed I was from the South. When I told him I was from Utah, he's like, "Well, that's like the South." 

Yeah. Utah is totally the South. Of Idaho.

So, what's everyone up to this week? Anyone else ever eaten a Kentucky Brown Boy?

First Entry in the New York Report: aka how my introduction to NYC involved many bodily fluids people don't talk about.

Hey ya'll.

I'm back.

I've been five days without wi-fi, and that is six days too long. Apparently New York is one of those cities that doesn't realize wi-fi should be as free as air. Of course, New York is a city that charges for their air, so maybe the concept never occurred to them.

If you want to see a New Yorker make a funny face, ask them where to get free wi-fi. But I'm not bitter. Totally not bitter.

Now I'm staring at the computer screen, wondering how to blog. It's not like riding a bike. If you don't do it every other day, you will forget how.

Let's start with a rundown of the top... I don't know... 13 things I learned/observed in New York.

1. It's always an appropriate time to back away from a crazy person.

On my first day in the city, a crazy man on the corner of the street yelled at me for "ice skating with the man". I apologized and moved on, because I could have, at some point, ice skated with a man, and how am I to know if he was the man?

Next, another man on the street started puking his guts out, right in front of me. So hard his pants fell down. This kind of excitement has never happened to me before, and I was sorry I was alone because this is the kind of thing one should share with others.

Lucky for you, I had my camera phone.

I especially love the two guys peeking around the corner, partaking in the entertainment without having to get involved.

As a finale to the trifecta of awesome, another crazy man sat across from me on the train, hitting himself and calling himself not nice names.

Everyone around us immediately moved away. I hesitated, because I never want anyone to think I'm judgmental, but then by the time I realized that yes, the smart thing would be to move away, I felt it was too late. My window to move away subtley had long passed.

After a few moments, the poor man peed himself. And that's when I learned a good lesson, which was later confirmed by several friends who live in New York:

It's always an appropriate time to move away from a crazy person. 

2. There are lots of old things in New York.

Here's a picture of the oldest church in America.

I don't know much more about it, except if it's the oldest church in America, it has to be at least fifty years old.

Oops. Wrong picture. Wait a sec... Okay. Now, presenting the oldest church in America.

It was built in 1382, by Sacajawea... and... Ghandi. And Lewis and Clark. It was quite the team venture.

Okay, so I'm not quite sure about the history... oh, wait. Hold the phone. Wrong church.

Lemme shuffle through... okay. Here we go.

Ahem. And below, presenting... The. Oldest. Church. In. America.

Dylan's Candy Bar

It was built in 1982, by a Saint named Dylan, and inside are several confectionary offerings of all sorts of shapes and colors. There is an altar in the middle, praising the immaculate invention of the cinnamon bear.

I spent much time worshipping in the Church of the Dylan's Candy Bar. True to the advertising, it did bring me one step closer to heaven.

3. Sometimes Agents don't like to get their pictures taken.

I got to meet my editor Kristin, and the rest of the publishing team at Balzer and Bray, and when I requested one measly little picture, my agent Michael Bourret's response was, "Oh man. Now that I've sold your book, do I really have to put up with getting pictures anymore?"

Um... yeah. 

I assume his trepidation comes from the fact that I always point out his million dollar smile. But it's not like I show the same picture over and over.

Have you seen this one of us in L.A.?

Sure, I've mentioned his smile, but have I made a big deal about his dimples? Of course not! And I won't.  They are too precious.

The way he was grumbling, you'd think my camera flash blinded him with each shot, when that only happened twice. So, without further delay, I present the one picture of Michael, Me and my editor, the incredible Kristin Daly Rens, in New York City.

Me in the middle, surrounded by awesome.

Enjoy it while you can, because that is the last picture of Michael. 

I always thought the HarperCollins building would look like something out of the Wonka Factory, where cover art is carried to the appropriate rooms by a river of words, and pipes of... um... words.

But, HarperCollins in real life looks a little less... magical. But a lot more practical.

Look what our high-speed, night-vision cameras caught! The elusive Michael Bourret, wandering the maze of cubicles. 

After a reception at the Balzer and Bray offices, Michael, Kristin and I went to lunch. Even the walk was magical, because the snow had just fallen the day before, and it had only just started to turn black with the gunk that blankets the entire city every day.

Kristin and someone else, both thinking this is just a walk to get from point A to point B when really it's an epic journey in a snowy wonderland, where the piles of the white stuff are rife with possibility. Or maybe they're rife with the pantsless guy's puke.  Either way, it's a smell like no other. And I'm walking down the streets of New York with my Editor and my Agent. Tell me that's not magical. I dare you. 

Seriously, we're only on number 4? Okay, I'll save you all from the entire ship's log of the trip. More to come on Wednesday. 

How about all y'all? Have a great weekend? Did you enjoy the time away from my blog? Did Sam fill in okay? Was he attentive in every way?

And finally, have you ever seen a guy puke so hard his pants fall down? 

I have.

Messy House, Cage Dancers and Brodi taking over New York

With Brodi being out of town, I have been asked to step up my game and come on over to her blog and post for her.  I know it is a Thursday, but there is a new sherrif in town and I am making up my own rules (and when Brodi gets back, she will crush my new rules and it will go back to the regular MWF timespots...but for now, I am IN CHARGE). 

Brodi is out of town.  She just beat the big NYC storm and now   She is New York City partying like its 1989.  Actually, she says that she went to a writers conference, but I have my doubts.  I asked her how her busy day of taking notes, studying the words of the speakers, etc. went...She avoided the question and told me that she went out with our niece for lunch and then spent the rest of the day exploring downtown NYC, Columbia, etc.  As you can tell, she is working very hard on perfecting her trade at this 'writing conference.'

I too have been living it up - I have spent the past couple of days getting her car working (OK, a mechanic did it but I did watch him), fixing the plumbing (OK, a plumber did it, but I did watch him), doing homework with the kids, actually working at my own job, trying to keep the house from being condemned by the city and yet I still find time to hold dance parties all through the night, complete with strobe lights, karaoke machines and cage dancers (don't ask!).  The kids have been well fed on poptarts, Rootbeer, waffles with extra syrup and ice cream.  All 4 food groups...or is it 5 food groups? We are somehow holding it all together.  We miss her.

On a different note - If you have a chance, please go and visit Brodi's agent's agency's website (that was a mouthful) at: http://www.dystel.com/  Brodi's agent Michael wrote a fabulous blog post on why he signed Brodi and what went in to signing her.  It is terrific.  Not sure who loves Michael more, Brodi or me. 

Also, if you have a chance, come on over to our house.  It is a ragin' party all day long.  I even have a couple of cute little boys that you can take home to keep as parting gifts.  Enjoy your Friday and weekend...I really have no plans - so feel free to let me know what you are doing so that I can imagine that I am you...so make it good!  Toodles!

The Day my Phone Bit Back: AKA In the parable of the scorpion and the frog, it sucks to be the frog.

Hey y'all.

So, most of you know the destruction that befell (totally a word) my phone last September when I dropped it in a parking lot.

But I kept the phone, because I'm loyal like that and because it made a fantastic crunchy sort of noise every time I dialed a number.

Okay, and because I couldn't afford a new one. 

Well, my loyalty came back to bite me in the bum. Actually, it was the finger. As I was playing an intense game of Solitaire, I felt a sharp sting on my thumb. A shard of glass had embedded itself in my skin. And holy cow, that is ow. 

I gingerly removed the offending bugger, and then the blood started gushing. And by "gushing" I mean a tiny bead of red appeared. 

But really, the sharpest pain of all was in my heart. How had I been so deceived, that we could just go on like that without one or both of us getting hurt? 

The phone gave me puppy dog eyes, and said, "Have I ever told you the story of the scorpion and the frog?"

me: "No."

Phone: "The scorpion needed to cross a river, and so he asked the frog for a ride. 'But, you'll sting me!' the frog said. The scorpion replied, 'I promise not to sting you. I need to get across the river, and if I sting you, we're both in trouble.' The frog agreed and so the scorpion climbed on his back."

me: "Awww. How sweet."

Phone: "Then about halfway across the river, suddenly the scorpion pulls out a shard of glass, and stabs the frog in the thumb. 'What are you doing?' the frog said. 'You've killed us both!' And the scorpion replied, 'I can't help it. It's in my nature.'"

me: "Bite me."

Phone: "How about we save that for next week's lesson?"

But, dear blog readers, there will be no 'next week' for us. My heart has turned to stone. Little does my phone know that later today, I'm taking him to the glue factory, where he will be sacrificed to provide shoes for needy children. 

The shoes will be made out of shards of glass, but hey. They're shoes.

HOUSEKEEPING

1. My revisions are due tomorrow. I'm about halfway done. This will be very exciting. (Note: If your name is Kristin, and you live in New York, I'm totally kidding. I am all the way done. Nothing to see here.)

2. I'm flying out to New York on Wednesday. I can't wait! I get to meet my agent and my editor, and see my friend Sara Zarr speak at the National SCBWI conference. Anyone in the area? Anyone want to hang out?

So blogging may or may not happen on Wednesday. But I will for sure blog several times from New York! Wish me luck on the revisions. I'm still waiting for a visit from the revision fairy. I believe. I BELIEVE!

Vote for my Official Author Photograph, and a Surprise Visit from Jowly McCheekerton

Happy Friday, yo. 

It's time to unveil the official Author photo!

At least, that's the picture that you see. 

When I look at it, I see this:

Hi! My name's Jowly McCheekerton. What's yours? 

I can only guess what you're thinking:

"Her cup-o-cheek runneth over."

"I didn't know she chewed tobacco!"

"Looks like the Godfather got together with a chipmunk..."

Since I'm not great with photoshop, or any of those other programs, I've come up with a few solutions that don't require much tech know-how. Please vote for your favorite.

Solution #1:

"I think she has a little something on her face. What is that? A crumb?"

Oh no. It's not a crumb. It's just a pickle, of course. Probably left over from when they ate lunch. Happens to me all the time.

Option #2:

"Oh look! She's peeking out from behind a fascinating brick wall. How coy!"

Oh, no, wait! It's the Berlin wall! Even better! She's so political.

Option #3:

"Boy, it must've been really cold that day!"

Awesome ski mask, though!

So. please vote for your favorite option. Personally, I'm inclined to go with the Berlin Wall, only this time I'll step behind it completely. 

My photographer "Opie" was awesome, by the way. She did the best she could, given her cheek-matter...  I mean, her subject matter. 

p.s. Photos by Opie Foto

An Ode to the Treat in my Mailbox

Yesterday was one of those crazy, milestone, everyone-said-it-would-never-happen days. 

I went to my mailbox and guess what I found?

Evidence that someone in this universe is actually paying me for my words. For all the if's, and's and but's. And double for the that's.

Here's a picture of the check:

Let's zoom in and get a closer look:

p.s. Anyone who can get the hidden references in here gets bonus blog points, to be used as blog dollars on bonus blog day, which is the same date as the date on the check.

There was a time not long ago (Okay, it was September 15th) when I would've given away my book for free.

I think e.e. cummings said it best in his poem "Little Check"

LITTLE check
little silent Advanced Check
you are so pretty
you are more like a love letter

 

 

who found you in the mailbox

and were you very sorry to leave New York?

Oh how I waited

but you were very fast!

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss you

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don't be afraid 

 look the words
that sleep all the year in a dark computer
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

I’ll hang you in the window

for everyone to see

and how they'll stare!
oh but you'll be very proud
and my little hubby and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful check
we'll dance and sing
“If I was a sculptor, but then again, no”

I'm off to go waste my money on cheap caffeine and a buttload of cinnamon bears.

Drinks are on the house! (Not my house... I can't afford it. If's, and's and but's have flooded the market recently, causing a rash of foreclosures.)

added: Seriously, anyone catch the references on the check? Anyone?