tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58172483406305215432024-02-18T23:20:31.170-08:00Writes in the CityThoughts on Writing, Getting Published, and City LifeWendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.comBlogger222125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-55359590946393501902011-03-09T10:22:00.000-08:002011-03-09T10:23:18.931-08:00Because I'm kind of a dorkI like this. You might, too:<div><br /></div><div><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Gx5D09s5X6U" frameborder="0"></iframe></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-67552555772760130782011-03-07T17:00:00.000-08:002011-03-07T17:00:00.861-08:00Awesome Possums<div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I'm surrendering the blog to my friend Jen K. Blom today--her middle grade book comes out this month. Got any kids? Well, what are you waiting for? Preorder! Take it away, Jen:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">-------</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Welcome to the POSSUMS ARE AWESOME blog tour for the middle-grade book, POSSUM SUMMER, coming out IN SEVEN DAYS HOLY COW! (Have you <a href="http://www.possumsummer.com/">preordered</a> yet?)</div></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1AhK3lEuUr-hIqCcj52UluCMpboEaxTfQ1TVSyYJeyxg9Lhawp-IPcw8Y2AKcg6cVg6TSCpXUZ0neou-l7-wdMAO2vR1_zQzlrhXqGbrGEJIMLwYFFlIEcz7b9SmMY6-CpE1Xrccad4w/s320/Blogtourlogo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566583657113418482" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 320px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's surprising that we're still doing this and nobody's chased me off, but there's always today, right, Wendy? Darling woman. Lets me come by and still talks to me, even after P had at her.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>First off, a little about the book:</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwAJCwnY4hv1OH_SassaRFeNMhsR4K8szMjHJt-cVdDFIlmJ93bSv0WZP34NldZ9nqKk1GFjfQW8jdL4hqrcohpNIo70BahK6492QQVwh4d74T9p4aVpx-Ki_Y6Zr1vAsONm9IZAL5Fk/s320/POSSUM+SUMMER+300+dpi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573208447953043954" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 300px; " /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Neucha, 'Comic Sans MS', 'Century Gothic', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Trebuchet MS', Monaco, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:medium;"><p style="text-align: center; "><i>a lonely kid.</i></p><p style="text-align: center; "><i>an orphaned baby possum.</i></p><p style="text-align: center; "><i>a dad that says no way.</i></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center; "><i>how do you kee</i><i>p that kind of secret?</i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i>and what happens when you’re found out?</i></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Here we go!</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div><b>WC: What do you hope your readers will come away with after reading POSSUM SUMMER?</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>JKB: Well, I think I'd like two things: </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>1. It's okay to second-guess your parents. They aren't always right; a lot of the time they're flying by the seat of their pants as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>and</div><div><br /></div><div>2. POSSUMS ARE AWESOME. :-D</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "><b>WC: What are some of your favorite MG books? </b></div><div style="text-align: left; "><b><br /></b></div><div>JKB: Ooooh! Cool question! I love Wilson Rawls' books SUMMER OF THE MONKEYS and WHERE THE RED FERN GROWS, Sterling North's RASCAL, and WHITE FANG by Jack London. Animal-y type books. Obviously. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "><b>WC: What kind of advice would you gi</b><b>ve P as she grows into her tween years?</b></div><div style="text-align: left; "><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left; ">JKB: That sometimes, more than sometimes, people can be mean on purpose. Especially if she doesn't march to the same beat they march to. To ignore them as best she could, celebrate who she is and reach for her dreams. I think that's the best I can do. </div><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div><div><b>P: I don't have dreams yet! Hey, Miss </b><b>Wendy! How are you today? What do you like to eat?</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left; ">WC: I'm a simple girl when it comes to my favorite meal. I like my dad's famous barbeque ribs he makes in the smoker, my mom's deviled eggs, and I'll need some baked beans and cornbread to go along with that. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><b>P: Ribs are good! Eggs...not so much. But on a whole, you're doing good. What do you like to do? </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>WC: It sounds so smaltzy I hesitate to answer...but my favorite activity is spending time with my kids. They are at such a great age (9 and 11) and are so funny. </div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>P: One word: <i>Iapprove</i>. I like it! Kids are super more funny than adults ever are! What's something funny about you?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div>WC: I was once hypnotized at a comedy club and I sang like Madonna. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>P: Wow, really? I bet that was the most embarrassing thing ever! *looks at JKB* *JKB shoots glare* *P tries to look innocent* Look, I drew you! </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center; "><b><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 156px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-mUV-ikVyyvyo2XFKiJmtWnQjYOQjnvbaAEQixbtKtGtSfIjQL-o6ubk_zrhLB2xgqVE6lL5D9nlIUAVKRYyXofjtNT84we4m2T0Xk41lN4LKQr_DCxBW8UXpgJdO1xx09YkVAjNS3k/s320/WendyPronghorn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581439538335953666" /></b></div><div><b>P: Have you ever seen a pronghorn antelope? They are so pretty! They look like a showtune kind of animal, don't you think? I saw a picture of Madonna once, she had cone-things on her that looked like those horns...why, one day, I --</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>**scuffle**</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div>JKB: Wendy, you rock. :-D Thank you!!!!<div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9CJ5wdjLSAoJeQczRl6CAC8YufWqH6-BRzAmeGNftZQVcnkd9MRcaXv3xZca9Wz0fH705SeZjI1TNlQYO83Ml0xNkHYvABHZ1xP3ZVJeUmKx-gVlk7ISLyIMRCuptPNvP_629eLoYzs/s1600/JKBAuthorPhoto.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9CJ5wdjLSAoJeQczRl6CAC8YufWqH6-BRzAmeGNftZQVcnkd9MRcaXv3xZca9Wz0fH705SeZjI1TNlQYO83Ml0xNkHYvABHZ1xP3ZVJeUmKx-gVlk7ISLyIMRCuptPNvP_629eLoYzs/s320/JKBAuthorPhoto.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566584391170594642" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 300px; " /></a><div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><a href="http://www.jenkblom.com/"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Jen K. Blom</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> writes a</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">bout animals, the land, and kids, not necessarily in that order. </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Her debut, </span></i><a href="http://www.possumsummer.com/"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">POSSUM SUMMER</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, is available March 2011.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Just the thing to give to a kid to start their summer of reading off right! (Available from your local </span></i><a href="http://bit.ly/a7XYUm"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">indie</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, </span></i><a href="http://amzn.to/bTJSQf"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Amazon</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, </span></i><a href="http://bit.ly/bWb2DM"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Barnes & Noble</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, </span></i><a href="http://bit.ly/8X7WR4"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Borders</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, or </span></i><a href="http://bit.ly/a7XYUm"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Book Depository</span></i></a><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">!)</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><br /></span></i></div></div></div></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Seen the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yhtB1a9yx_s">book trailer</a> yet?</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Want more POSSUMS ARE AWESOME blog tour tidbits? Go <a href="http://jaekaebee.blogspot.com/p/events.html">here</a> and knock yourself out!</span></i></div></div></div></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-23672265985474564492011-01-21T07:57:00.000-08:002011-01-21T08:56:49.467-08:00Novel fodderI recently started a new novel. Well, not so recently. I just haven't made as much progress as I'd like. I'd been flailing around with it and for many weeks I couldn't figure out why. I loved the premise. It had a strong plot. I could even weave in some interesting themes without being intrusive to the story. So what was the problem? <div><br /></div><div>I haven't been paying attention, that's what. Blame it on this <a href="http://gawker.com/5737429/shovel-ready">crap winter weather</a> (and today in NYC it is, once again, crap) or a busy life, but there it is: I haven't been people-watching. And that, my friends, is a key part in developing my characters. </div><div><br /></div><div>No one is outside! And if they are, they are bundled and angry and STEALING MY CAB, dammit. If I needed a pissed off New Yorker character, I'd be all set. Forget going out on the street, I could just look in the mirror. </div><div><br /></div><div>What I need are people who spark ideas, like these characters:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. I once had a dentist who was drippy-sugar-sweet. He spoke in sing-song and had this weird whoop of a laugh. All was fine until his assistant came in the room and he yelled her with such anger (hatred, even!) it was as if he could grab her by the hair and slit her throat any second. Then he'd turn to me and do the sing-song again. Yikes. What was going on in his head? I don't know for sure, but he snapped in the middle of a crowded shopping mall. At least in one of my short stories. </div><div><br /></div><div>2. A character in a book I recently finished up came to me while I was listening to Amy Winehouse. What might it be like to be her BFF? Challenging, I'd bet. So I started with that idea and worked from there. I ended up with one of my favorite (albeit difficult) characters.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. You know how preacher's kids are supposed to be the wildest? In my experience, not only is that true, but their charismatic dads are great for inspiration. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, I never lift someone completely from life. Every character is unique, has a little of myself sprinkled in them, and is a composite from many sources, even snippets of conversation on the subway. </div><div><br /></div><div>But they usually start from something external. So it's time for me to pay attention again. </div><div><br /></div><div>How about you? Do your characters originate from observations? Or do you make them up from scratch?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-21610716869441817082010-12-27T08:04:00.000-08:002010-12-27T08:21:39.864-08:00Stuck in the snow<div>Argh! Stupid blizzard. Instead of shushing down the slopes in Colorado -- and regular blog readers know how much I <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2009/01/enough-already-with-snow.html">love to ski</a> (Not. It scares the <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-birthday-cutie-patooty.html">hell out of me</a>.) -- we are victims of the East Coast Snowmageddon and unable to leave our fair city.</div><div> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555396352057090194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUYqDAAyTK-FJyoivaS-NW8OyUvPLw84B04E6dkb1KR8nQfHVZeMJbiUndMH_YfDH8eyae602u2g5_NAYNZtEZylK-0fopL5G503qOroJgm2LB5avnx0WALFBTZ2iiDNp5fLcyaHAkw-my/s320/sledding.jpg" /><br /></div><div>Luckily, we were able to find some fun sledding this morning and a reporter from dnainfo.com was there to snap the evidence. Look, I'm actually <em>smiling</em>! In the <em>snow</em>! Amazing. Read all about it <a href="http://www.dnainfo.com/20101227/upper-east-side/manhattan-takes-snow-day-after-blizzard">here</a>. </div><div> </div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-75115393041516796772010-12-05T11:37:00.000-08:002010-12-05T12:11:59.452-08:00On turning 40Although my grandmother wouldn't find it very "ladylike" to announce my age to everyone on the internet, this particular milestone has taken up a lot of space in my brain lately, so I'm going to go ahead an (over?)share. Besides, it's not like information is private anymore. It would take someone all of 4.2 seconds to find out what I ate for dinner last night, never mind my DOB. (I'll save you the trouble. Pizza.)<br /><br />My husband threw a little shindig for me this past weekend and I have to admit, it did soften the blow of such a, uh, <em>grown up</em> birthday. Forty. Four to the zero. The big 4-oh. Yikes. I really can't pretend to be just a kid anymore, can I?<br /><br />As much as I'm going to hate no longer being thirty-something, it's an excellent time to recount where I am in life, and where I want to be. I couldn't be more happy about my husband and friends. Truly. And my girls...oh, did I mention that they wrote and recited poetry in my honor in front of a room full of people? No? Allow me just that one brag.<br /><br />But my career. Well. That area needs some work. I admit I'd hoped to have a book published before The Great Day of Reckoning. That would've made the day perfect. Instead, I'm still trudging along. Making progress, yes, and not giving up, but continuing to swim slowly through a vast ocean of publishing molasses.<br /><br />Still. I'm determined to get there. My craft has improved, and I'm more confident about how to go about actually finishing 300 pages of fiction in a somewhat organized fashion. I started a new project after weeks of hemming and hawing (my agent refers to this as "percolating" which sounds much more productive) and I'm excited to be working on a novel again.<br /><br />The goalpost might've been moved, but I can still see it.<br /><br />How about you? Any goals for the upcoming year?WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-81412151808892817402010-11-20T08:00:00.000-08:002010-11-20T08:26:21.118-08:00The ebook smackdownNow that I've owned my Kindle for almost a year, I thought it might be interesting to tally up the war between paper vs. ebooks. I've mentioned my <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-which-i-explain-my-undying-love-of.html">love</a> of paper books <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/01/pretty-pretty-covers.html">before</a>, and I'll admit I came to the ereader world with much reluctance and consternation (it was a gift.) <div><br /></div><div>The takeaway? As much as I love to hold a book in my hand, I clearly buy more books on my Kindle. It's just too easy. I'll finish a book in bed and still be wide awake, so <i>zipzapzoop</i>, I'll buy and start another one. I carry my Kindle in my (ridiculously giant) purse, so I'm reading more on average. I finished a book last night waiting to pick up my daughter from fencing. The lesson ran long, so I bought another novel.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the last 11 months, I bought 26 ebooks and 15 (more or less, I don't keep the best records) real and true physical books, mostly from indie bookstores. I wouldn't have predicted those results last December.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, what do you think? If other people are anything like me, is this bad or good news for authors?</div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-59556034365373119902010-11-01T07:35:00.000-07:002010-11-01T08:08:42.106-07:00MWF seeks BNINo, I'm not placing an ad for a Brawny Nude Intern, as interesting as that sounds. Rather, I'm a married writing female searching for a brand new idea. For another novel. Got one?<div><br /></div><div>In the past couple of weeks I've thought of six: two turned out to be short stories now sitting on my hard drive. The other four, well, they have potential. But they need to prove themselves to the judge. So this week I'm working on pitches. </div><div><br /></div><div>I would guess most people write pitches under duress, with the goal of finding an agent or publisher. I'm writing four this week with the intention to pitch...myself. Perhaps that makes me masochistic. I don't know. </div><div><br /></div><div>See, I'm a planner. I just HAD to know both my kids' genders before they were born. I research vacation destinations for months and months before making a single reservation, mulling over all possible scenarios. I like to know where I'm going before I start. Plans can change, of course, but I'd rather punch in a GPS destination and have it re-route than just get in the car and drive. </div><div><br /></div><div>My four contestants will rehearse and make themselves pretty for my own personal American Idol: New Novel Edition. They must be nervous. I'm much more like Simon than Paula. </div><div><br /></div><div>How do you vet new ideas? Do you just jump in?</div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-11667773424095873752010-10-13T08:57:00.000-07:002010-10-13T17:20:23.091-07:00No journalists from Kansas<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Last week, as I sat nearly comatose in a waiting (and waiting) room, I rifled through a stack of weeks-old magazines. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Brides--</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">no thanks. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Golf Digest</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">--bleh. I finally found a tattered </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Newsweek</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> and flipped it open. Inside was short article about the Kansas Department of Education </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.newsweek.com/2010/09/18/kansas-stops-funding-student-journalism.html#"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">cutting all funding</span></a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> for high school journalism classes. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 22px; font-size:15px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">"Earlier this month, the state’s Department of Education decided to stop funding high-school instruction in the subject. Schools are free to raise their own money, but that’s not a path officials would recommend." </span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 22px; font-size:15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Um, what? How is this not all over the news? It seems the Sunflower State has deemed journalism a "dying industry unfit for public funds." Maybe they are partly right: headlines about the profitability of newspapers and magazines aren't exactly full of good cheer. But won't we always need professional journalists to report accurate information? Or are we okay with relying on bloggers to tell us what's going on? (For heaven's sake, don't rely on ME.)</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Disclosure: I was a journalism dork in high school, and although I went into advertising instead of reporting the news, my experience on the yearbook and newspaper staff helped me define myself. I was a writer. My words made it into print. Peers read my articles, and commented. Journalism was the one class that made the biggest impact on me; I'm a news junkie to this day. Two of my fellow editors *did* go onto J-school at MU and make their living as journalists even now. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I get that money is tight and institutions are pressured to cut where they can. Believe me, I sit on the board of a non-profit and witness good programs getting axed. It stinks. However, I'm guessing they still have plenty of bucks lying around for their football team and other sports programs. And wow, I can see how *that* is a booming industry for most graduates. I mean, really, if I had a dime for every professional football player who came from my high school, why, I'd have...zero dimes. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Priorities, though, right? </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-61598587254580319142010-10-05T08:44:00.000-07:002010-10-05T09:43:17.902-07:00I'm weird when I'm writingMy goal this year is to try not to be so odd.<div><br /></div><div>Let me explain. When I'm deep in a writing project, working out the details of a story can be all-consuming. So much so that tasks in the life outside my head get sacrificed. Like errands. And housework. Feeding the dog. And, once, I'm ashamed to admit, picking up the kids. I've stepped into traffic because I was writing dialogue in my thoughts. I've looked directly at people I recognize on the street and never have it register because a plot point was taking up all the space in my brain. Compartmentalizing is not my strong point.</div><div><br /></div><div>And when I'm forced to interact with anyone after hours of writing? Forget about it. I'm sure there's a sizable contingency of moms in my daughter's class who think I'm brain addled. Conversations frequently go like this:</div><div><br /></div><div>Normal person: "Hi, Wendy. What's going on?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: (Blank stare.)<i> I really either need to kill that character off or give him more of a purpose. I like him, though. Okay. I'll go with purpose. Wait, someone's giving me a funny look. Wake up</i>. "Oh. What? Hi."</div><div><br /></div><div>NP: "Um. I said, 'What's going on?' You know. 'How are you?'"</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "Yes. Sorry. Er, I'm okay." <i>But what can he do? That's like a whole other subplot, and I'm probably long on subplots anyway. Hello? Why is she still looking at me? I guess I need to say something. </i>"Oh. And how've you been?"</div><div><br /></div><div>NP: "Fine." (Looks around for polite escape.)</div><div><br /></div><div>This is not good. </div><div><br /></div><div>So. I'm focusing on interpersonal skills this fall. You know, that talent that used to come so easily? I was the girl in school who had to be moved all around the classroom for chatting. A teacher once even remarked, "I'd move you next to the wall, but you'd probably talk to that, too."</div><div><br /></div><div>I joined a writing group (in person!) I'm becoming more involved in community service (with people!) I signed up as a tour guide at my kids' school (45 whole minutes of talking per tour!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully I can become a people-person again. At least, when I need to be. </div><div><br /></div><div>How about you? Do you often live inside your head?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-30162980606651178662010-09-20T04:00:00.000-07:002010-09-20T04:00:15.219-07:00My dog needs a shrink<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8U7S6dVX-to3gg3VmltXqmqtEDRdl73p6A5uAhYDQ1C_NWkqYMY9RnylZCjwtsdG2Zd9Wdo-QLnrPwBtZk3Roz4ibKiENcNCShaP-EQW9076hR5YlNiv5G8bL1qmHdT-nnTHXI_6eAs_W/s1600/Truman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8U7S6dVX-to3gg3VmltXqmqtEDRdl73p6A5uAhYDQ1C_NWkqYMY9RnylZCjwtsdG2Zd9Wdo-QLnrPwBtZk3Roz4ibKiENcNCShaP-EQW9076hR5YlNiv5G8bL1qmHdT-nnTHXI_6eAs_W/s320/Truman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518335339873496114" /></a><br /><div>My poor dog. Ever since we returned to Manhattan, Truman has spent every day slumped on the floor, looking very much like a old pot roast someone dropped and left behind. You see, he lived in a yard all summer, hanging out with <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/03/this-is-just-so-so-wrong.html">my parent's yapping terror</a>. I always thought he found their dog annoying, biting his ears and running in circles and all that, but it seems he misses Miss ADHD.</div><div><br /></div><div>He gazes at the wall, lost in despair. I've been throwing the tennis ball. Nothing. Dangling his favorite smelly sock in front of his face. Not even an eye flick. How about a treat? Meh. When I take him out of a walk (drag), he's not even interested in sniffing a single butt. </div><div><br /></div><div>Help! I don't know what else to do! He used to love being a city dog, what with all the smells and activity. I guess he secretly longs for the suburbs. </div><div><br /></div><div>We'll be visiting my parents soon, but it's not like I can reason with Truman in the interim. </div><div><br /></div><div>Any advice?</div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-70066344888379956042010-09-08T04:08:00.000-07:002010-09-08T04:41:02.042-07:00Warning: blog hijacked by middle schooler<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAoZttlns3VgWJbQ1vzgYnmNsmjKtjsdj8pr0mnSn3QCQUGXvWxc1ABV9W0OwdK414IpuT5Eum4dBBoHtl-_2DCv1h_hXzXnBM8fUybJ0Yorg0Jf8JuQAdURYA2n0fMY15Ao03dFzLA2_/s1600/DSC00924.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAoZttlns3VgWJbQ1vzgYnmNsmjKtjsdj8pr0mnSn3QCQUGXvWxc1ABV9W0OwdK414IpuT5Eum4dBBoHtl-_2DCv1h_hXzXnBM8fUybJ0Yorg0Jf8JuQAdURYA2n0fMY15Ao03dFzLA2_/s320/DSC00924.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514220184181901138" /></a>Hi! My name is Naomi and I'm hijacking my mom's blog to talk about NIGHTSHADE CITY by Hilary Wagner. My mom is friends with the author and got me an advance copy. So cool! But now anyone can buy it. Here's my review:<br /><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">NIGHTSHADE CITY is a fast-paced and intriguing story about a once-peaceful, underground city of rats that are very intelligent. High Minister Killdeer and is loyal helper Billycan are murderers who command respect from all the other rats. But there are some rats that are starting to fight back. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Three young rats named Clover, Vincent (my dad’s name!), and Victor must team up with the rebels to bring every rat to the new Nightshade City and away from Killdeer forever. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think the best thing about NIGHTSHADE CITY are the characters. You start out thinking of them only as rats but eventually they become like humans. NIGHTSHADE CITY has some adventurous themes like rebellion and redemption, plus some quieter, more unexpected themes like love. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">If anyone says this is a book for only boys, they are wrong! Without the heroines in the book, nothing would be as fascinating or as exciting. NIGHTSHADE CITY truly is a good book! </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Blog owner's note: tomorrow, stop by </b><a href="http://dawtheminstrel.livejournal.com/"><b>Dorothy's blog</b></a><b> to visit the next stop on the tour.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-9838048974167765242010-09-03T12:20:00.000-07:002010-09-03T12:49:42.847-07:00Hurricane Earl excitement<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>We went out to the beach before high tide today to check out the waves. These were taken at 2:00 pm in Water Mill, NY. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ahJLze-GH3V1KRSnxV7LwWA-egAaUyh3uaLyr6lwvy7i4vfmYSSSxQBCt8cuX-vuwa5evJ78wabupoYyCQoGgr5-C6JpZ3w_iQVKOtdiAEalwZGqa2hfXVNIFeot09ePTZN6jaApvblA/s320/DSC00873.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512773643546810338" />Lost a couple of steps already.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTkpcOuJOh2O1kPOhWqfYn5i7yrohu4xjDHeEhbT_xssFQRZ8zo9WIpinO3PYzahASag3cxH3xLEGAeR9-dqvvOS4UXNntTZU0FTq_2r_r06HZEjxX9wRQgGH7wFr6HwDjmW7F1K5_j-f/s1600/DSC00880.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTkpcOuJOh2O1kPOhWqfYn5i7yrohu4xjDHeEhbT_xssFQRZ8zo9WIpinO3PYzahASag3cxH3xLEGAeR9-dqvvOS4UXNntTZU0FTq_2r_r06HZEjxX9wRQgGH7wFr6HwDjmW7F1K5_j-f/s320/DSC00880.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512771188753739298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Splashing up to the dunes. The beach has been wide this year. Until today. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4jw9qvmcYqy4GcSI-MB_anGn0rd84IZ5TyEsozp-e2byu255mbWl2Olu2i0ShyiwfN1m_lXs3vAUVpsLlyZhcXJI7Vb0h_L9QOzOAz3p1RYaFQ3Qmwjhyk8H8cZfQ7VZ_681rVRvcJnZz/s1600/DSC00879.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4jw9qvmcYqy4GcSI-MB_anGn0rd84IZ5TyEsozp-e2byu255mbWl2Olu2i0ShyiwfN1m_lXs3vAUVpsLlyZhcXJI7Vb0h_L9QOzOAz3p1RYaFQ3Qmwjhyk8H8cZfQ7VZ_681rVRvcJnZz/s320/DSC00879.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512770641939858274" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Watch out, photographers.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pksfG8w6KtCas_r5UbtlMMnDHrlPojmR6kKpgO5sgO6yQZ-DL-H5-UyCdej-xtq03hhgbhzJyUWriYcZWSPS3yQkNB5D4w3kLxJEeTzS03nJK7YdkWMKwOJOXBUYwpx-pko88aFT0cqU/s1600/DSC00875.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pksfG8w6KtCas_r5UbtlMMnDHrlPojmR6kKpgO5sgO6yQZ-DL-H5-UyCdej-xtq03hhgbhzJyUWriYcZWSPS3yQkNB5D4w3kLxJEeTzS03nJK7YdkWMKwOJOXBUYwpx-pko88aFT0cqU/s320/DSC00875.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512770625662830818" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We left when the waves hit the top step. Time to go!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-65834747149870065422010-08-28T14:30:00.001-07:002010-08-28T15:18:18.926-07:00Climbing Mont-Metaphor<div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSDG3KDngNwNDGut-G1H4t_fv2BiXkBANdLRAp50rwcMVWYVbFauDs8ZXyw93gVaDokat67msjYkHsikQMcyXZvCFLWkxCH36UQJfsufLirblmWN9WxZ7M-7KyfXboWbKuJIH1GxXibbx/s320/DSC00817.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510576755887164818" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>We took a trip last week to visit friends in Mont-Tremblant, Quebec, who were nice enough to host all four Cebulas for a few days. I, being not at all outdoorsy nor terribly athletic, decided it would be such the great idea to climb the mountain while were there. I even went out an bought new (cute!) hiking shoes.<div><br /></div><div>"You sure?" said my very outdoorsy and athletic friend. "It's a pretty good climb."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Of course! Can't let a good shoe go to waste. 4 miles straight to the top? That's like walking from the Upper East Side to, what, Soho? Totally doable. Except, like, up.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what the hell, I'd set the treadmill elevation to 10 before, and I didn't die. Surely I could do this. Plus, you know, the shoes! They were cute and sporty and made me feel official. </div><div><br /></div><div>Standing at the base of the mountain, my friend pointed to a teeny tiny observation deck at the summit. It was like an ant house. "That's where we're going," she said. And...wow. That was a loooooong way up a steep incline.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't worry," she said, heading up the trail, "there's only one part that's scary*, right at the top."</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, blog friends, I did pretty well most of the way up. My husband and youngest daughter came, too, and we took it in small steps. I tried not to think about how far I had to go. Just up to that ridge, just across that little stream, we'll take a break at the rock. Much like when tackling a new novel. I'm a slow writer, and if I think too much about how many pages I have to go, forget about it. I freeze. Surely I don't have the chops to write 300 effing pages of story? I'm a short form person, not a novelist--that's too much work. Turns out I can if I just chug along.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's what I did.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCnYD-tNsm-evx85SRzCXrHdGkUYz2eS-2ezGOR9XH8JBhQBBRljcMzl6BuFR3jHLOJLXDtS1VqDKxU64NPaaVJH8nq0IFZ-veh0RjJUE7GNyqDk8buM0RaBy-SdGDUe_sJfmowXfysNQ/s320/DSC00813.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510587497274315554" /><div><div><div style="text-align: center;">We made it! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, how about you? Have you accomplished anything great or small lately?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">*OMG. Scary. I almost cried!</div></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-73685690781326058732010-08-18T04:15:00.000-07:002010-08-27T13:37:24.623-07:00ControversyMy daughters and I are reading the book SHABANU by Suzanne Fisher Staples. It's been around a while--about 10 years now. It's about an 11-year-old girl growing up in the Cholistan desert in Pakistan. I'm not sure why my daughter picked it out at the bookstore, but it couldn't have come at a better time.<div><br /></div><div>I'm sure you've heard about a little neighborhood issue we are having here in Manhattan? Certainly lots of people have chimed in. I was pregnant with my second daughter on 9/11, and I'm not going to go into the whole experience of living through that day. I'll only say that it took many New Yorkers into a dark, dark place for a long time.</div><div><br /><div>We read the newspaper every morning, and my 8-year-old always has strong opinions. I generally have to issue a mass apology to the other mothers in her class for some of the death-and-destruction stories she brings in. She seems to think it's her job to corrupt young minds. Yesterday, I was discussing the mosque issue with my dad and things got heated (with most of the heat coming from me, to be honest.) Later, in the car, my daughter and I had this conversation: </div><div><br /></div><div>Daughter: But, why are people mad about the mosque?</div><div>Me: They think it's disrespectful to build it so close to where all those people died.</div><div>D: Like (<i>redacted</i>)'s dad?</div><div>M: Yes. Where he died.</div><div>D: Is (<i>redacted</i>) mad about the mosque? </div><div>M: I don't know. I'd rather you not ask her. It might get her upset. Okay?</div><div>D: Okay. (pause) But what does that have to do with a mosque?</div><div>M: Well, the men who hijacked the plane were Muslims, and Muslims worship at a mosque, and some people think it's wrong to worship there.</div><div>D: But they were bad guys.</div><div>M: Yes. And not all Muslims are bad guys. Most are living their lives, just like anyone else.</div><div>D: Like Mrs (<i>redacted</i>). </div><div>M: Uh huh. And grandpa's doctor you met last month. And daddy's friend from L.A. And Shabanu, from the book.</div><div>D: She's not real. </div><div>M: I know.</div><div>D: I still don't get why people are mad that they want to pray there. They didn't do anything wrong. </div><div>M: I don't know, honey. I don't agree with those people. </div><div>D: You don't agree with Grandpa.</div><div>M: I don't. But he still loves me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think I'll close this one for comments. No offense, regular blog readers. </div><div><br /></div><div>ETA: Since posting, my dad has come around to my way of thinking, sort of. He still sees it as insensitive, but he does NOT agree with the other side's bullying, ugly, bigoted tactics to get them to move.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-73089708075666541782010-08-03T08:33:00.000-07:002010-08-03T09:17:27.260-07:00Life has a strange habit of getting in the wayMy dad hasn't been well lately, thus the long period of blog silence. It's tough to feel all lighthearted and writerly when you are shuffling around a hospital all day, prodding your very stubborn dad to do his therapy. (He's much better now, thank goodness, and out picking tomatoes in the garden.)<div><br /></div><div>The post-op floor has a habit of stripping away all the non-essentials <i>(Should I sign my daughter up for dance class? I'd really like to re-tile the deck.)</i> Its inhabitants were forced to focus on what's important in life. Some families were joyous and others somber, but everyone there was facing mankind's greatest fear: death, and the avoidance thereof. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't stop thinking about the 33-year-old mother with 3 months to live and what her family must be going through. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway. I didn't get much writing done, but perhaps the next project I tackle will be all the richer for it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jeez, that was a downer. </div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-88213897269640255052010-07-17T12:16:00.000-07:002010-07-17T12:42:28.171-07:00Things I learned in Alabama<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxrsjYZTbPQwvf6jkYKY1oqDp1N94o7U3Vb5tLWnRT2bxOPi0cWj_Q0kEZfIdFAM6f1fkV0rKest3IFcd-LnldO-QtAuOCddDBHUxjAqHdngiZbCt69NGMwiPMpbMuml18sj4IwadiTJL/s1600/DSC00721.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxrsjYZTbPQwvf6jkYKY1oqDp1N94o7U3Vb5tLWnRT2bxOPi0cWj_Q0kEZfIdFAM6f1fkV0rKest3IFcd-LnldO-QtAuOCddDBHUxjAqHdngiZbCt69NGMwiPMpbMuml18sj4IwadiTJL/s320/DSC00721.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494960919337652882" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">You'll find pretty things down country roads.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoAIbaU9K_9ZrRriqWpoo1bJNAjGO17FGIQ-Bo3iXfF8YxjrY9tpOaCE38umPAwbVc0v7eVz8d_MCIo9dBw5BsaN-_DJTDEDyNQ7t_ghyphenhyphenQnoI2hvgdYI1g2y2cd3rbz-qzFVZpml5IpSn/s1600/DSC00714.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoAIbaU9K_9ZrRriqWpoo1bJNAjGO17FGIQ-Bo3iXfF8YxjrY9tpOaCE38umPAwbVc0v7eVz8d_MCIo9dBw5BsaN-_DJTDEDyNQ7t_ghyphenhyphenQnoI2hvgdYI1g2y2cd3rbz-qzFVZpml5IpSn/s320/DSC00714.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494960479495558658" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Someone told me to "drive up there on a HEEL (hill?) and look daauuwn (down?)" </div><div style="text-align: center;">So I did.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFP9IRergzwMoWTntZrCgWbsD9JCp1jFL8JDhxBkuGUAhXshSBWPEDQxOG3RuyJ4q-FX3gkM8yv606180_JrTV2O4pneVKi7QOhk01ZXYVSzF8fz4LgKE8PkzKw0dFU8KFAQMP34tDt8KF/s320/DSC00708.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494958469095433362" /><div style="text-align: center;">Fried pickles (yum), fried okra, fried chicken, and deep fried peanuts "so good, you can eat 'em SHELL-N'ALL."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xAIWwc5WMlj69o0DOUZs5y0U_9qUAV7cc2TUSj6kucBXqBL2kiuCyQ5SXsn5gFCjAOHuixvO95Qc-fkbTXyLlLW-MJkkU4yVaSijUZ9pfpDg1QMdyIsC4glrg5gZ8Um2xy2cMMSEzudY/s320/DSC00709.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494957684984323458" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Piggly Wiggly!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdq0PGCNMg-ChfbUZe7tC5flxZcbXcUIqx1hM2s4ZmrW1n7vIcrux4yGj4UtoKXmXk3tyBxhTw29Iuax9nPg6gE5n65pC96t0QdUsQjMVhzIynIYu_jxOPx4PK5iKL6jhodEHVqbagXiZ/s320/DSC00722.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494959460843746786" /><div style="text-align: center;">Five New York girls and two New York boys will have a fantastic time at SPACE CAMP. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Two moms will drink a lot. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-75052280094406891912010-07-10T14:06:00.000-07:002010-07-10T14:18:13.946-07:00I haven't diedJust drowning under pages of revisions (which I actually like to tackle. I know! Weirdo.) and dealing with kid and life commitments. In the meantime, check out <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/11/books/review/Tepper-t.html?_r=1&ref=books">Lisa Brackmann's</a> NYT Book Review! I've recently started reading ROCK PAPER TIGER and it's great so far. I hope you sell piles and piles of books, Lisa!<div><br /></div><div>Any good/bad news on your end? </div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-86922749977116549672010-06-30T16:42:00.000-07:002010-06-30T17:00:12.290-07:00Tiny dogs, pot pipes, and body art<div>...Otherwise known as "research." While the books I write aren't research intensive like historical fiction, I still like to get things right. Sometimes the research is dry, like reading all I can about the California gubernatorial election process. A bit of a yawn, but necessary. </div><div><br /></div><div>Other times, it's much more fun. A quick glance at my laptop's history folder would reveal some interesting searches:</div><div><br /></div><div>--Sailing / pirate terminology (Arr!)</div><div><br /></div><div>--What breed of dog might fit inside a trench coat pocket?</div><div><br /></div><div>--Jim Jones/ Kool-Aid/ Hale-Bopp comet cult</div><div><br /></div><div>--Narcissistic personality, symptoms of. (No, not me.)</div><div><br /></div><div>--Tattoo parlors in Venice, CA. (There are lots.)</div><div><br /></div><div>--Is it possible to make a bong out of a kazoo? (Answer: yes, and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O42pub5OzY">this young man</a> will demonstrate.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Ah, I love the internet. </div><div><br /></div><div>Have you run across any weird facts while researching a project?</div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-87109812606685201712010-06-26T09:54:00.000-07:002010-06-26T11:30:47.090-07:00Revision Cafe, table for oneMy agent has given me a lot to chew on with regards to my shiny new manuscript, and Moonrat's recent post on the <a href="http://editorialass.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-first-page-of-your-manuscript-is-so.html">importance of the first page</a> is a good reminder as I re-work my opening. <div><br /></div><div>Anyone care to babysit? The (wonderful! supportive!) hubs has taken the girls out all day*, but since he can't exactly leave his job that pays, yanno, actual bills, I foresee a bit of Wii in my kids' future. </div><div><br /></div><div>How's your writing these days?</div><div><br /></div><div>*Related aside: I've been sitting here revising for so long, I fear my butt is square.</div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-61405141118729488472010-06-21T14:36:00.000-07:002010-06-21T15:31:25.405-07:00We have a winner!<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;font-size:15px;"><span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">If your name is Vicki Lane and you entered the <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/06/stay-debut-and-query-contest.html">query contest</a> with the entry below CONGRATS to you! You will be contacted by someone who is not me shortly. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><div style="text-align: center;">Vicki said... </div></span></span><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana, 'new york', times, serif;">I'd love to be entered in this contest. Congrats on your book and your query</span></div></span><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana, 'new york', times, serif;">is awesome!!</span></div></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, 'new york', times, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, 'new york', times, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:15px;">And a huge THANK YOU to everyone who entered! </span></span></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-68571829909443996702010-06-20T15:29:00.000-07:002010-06-20T15:33:13.045-07:00A crisis of hair<div style="text-align: left;">Remember way back in <a href="http://www.blogger.com/kstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/03/bad-reputation.html">March</a> when I cheated on my hairdresser and paid a dear price? To recap, an emergency cut before a big party resulted in stylish bangs like these:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRDAtxBHNE8ZAZj8y82fbIXrAz_xYL5liVqyAqXLua4fUfV6ZoEJF0blZCHZDL1ZqQWbOuWwx9RF-8YJEI2XeAcFRsW2uUuoB_0eZWtY9JSBYBPje9g49uUdrgWReQxYfG7T7aVUYFfwS/s400/mamie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484949054122338546" /></div><div><div><div style="text-align: left;">The back was too long as well, and it looked almost...almost...mullet-y. Zut alors! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It took me until June to work up the courage, and the length, to go back and admit my transgression to my regular stylist, B. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B was not amused, blog friends. Not one little bit. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B: "Ah, I zhe how you ahhre. You come in wits zhis mess and you want B to fix, yes?" <i>(B is from Aix-en-Provence, and if my rendition of his (very awesome) accent is off, well, it's zhe best I could do.)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Moi: "Yes. <i>(bows head)</i> I'm sorry. If if makes you feel any better, I had to go to a black-tie event with terrible hair, so I've learned my lesson."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B: "It does NAUGHT. <i>(picks up strands) </i>Ugh. She cut zhis wits a RAAZORRRRE, didn't she? Your HAAAIIIIRREE is too FIIIIINE for zhat! I 'ave told you!"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Moi: <i>(weeps)</i> I don't remember if she used a razor.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B: <i>(crosses arms)</i> She did. I can see. I 'ave eyyes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Moi: Maybe you are right.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B: Of causse I am. <i>(takes my head in his hands)</i> No more! No more of zhat! Oh-kay? </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Moi: Never.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">B: Oh-kay zhen. I will fix.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Whew! So we are back together. And we didn't even need a counselor. I love B -- he can sure dish it out, but he can also take it. Plus, I look like myself again.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdZey_bbw1oT0DKpayeV_3NatKtJb5TzqNehVUIxmxxaIG-o14hcKa4BWXPWNZF7lgi0fBe8Cd_Xj3cD8koJ8Hqg3Rmzo90jcSxWaFZ8YrKv-QsAlfJqiT8aTvJDPlNLo130BvWR6aprZs/s320/Photo+68.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484948253910831554" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">How about you? Have you had to admit a mistake lately?</div></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-87416185122637351682010-06-16T06:08:00.000-07:002010-06-16T06:36:55.719-07:00Camp Mom<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ahh, summertime. No school, no alarm clocks, no commitments, no...time to write. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That's right. My kids are out of school now and, although they are doing a couple of planned activities here and there (most notably a week of Space Camp), most of the summer will be a lot of hanging out. And we all know what that means: </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"Mooooo-ooom, what are we going to do today?"</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Oh, I dunno, you can watch me write?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yeah, they aren't so excited about that one. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Luckily, my manuscript is in wait mode at the moment, so I have loads of time to dedicate to my two little preciouses. Let's just review what we've done since school ended, shall we?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Strawberry picking</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jam-making</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Tennis-playing</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A Dave & Busters headache inducing lunch and arcade-ing</span></div><div><a href="http://www.kingtut.org/home"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Mummy visiting</span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Times Square-tourist-dodging</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sag Harbor pier fried-clam-eating</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Big Olaf ice cream-consuming while enormous yacht-watching</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Beach frisbee-throwing and frigid wave-jumping</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lame, girly football-tossing </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dinner-grilling</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nature center-hiking</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Shorts and t-shirt-shopping</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Chase-around-the-yard-with-a-garden-hose spraying</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Playground-visiting</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Car-washing</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pool-swimming</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Whew! I'm tired already. Did you notice any "time for mom" on that list? No, no, you did not. Oh well. Don't get me wrong--I'm not complaining. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How's your summer going? Any big plans?</span></div><div><br /></div></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-30742424500000196672010-06-11T10:34:00.000-07:002010-06-11T11:08:10.303-07:00A rant about the Gulf Coast<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:medium;" class="Apple-style-span" >The STAY <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/06/stay-debut-and-query-contest.html">query critique contest</a> has been extended for another week! Allie's being linked in some other blogs and we agreed to keep 'er open. Thanks for your patience, entrants. Mwah! More exposure for STAY = good.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />Now, I don't know about you, but I can't seem to pry my eyes away from the oil depress-a-thon that is the Gulf coast. Just ask my husband--I won't shut up about it. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481572686293270674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xjOkPTVXta_OnghoJp8i3O-hGyYZForeTmUH8jeA6r4XyfQXtnpGZEhw33y9SkmxyQu1SYuB38mz3_7vpnKt0OB_LboUjB1jw_q3MVFPxctdsGDetdT7OX1KnsS2Yu-SA4b7ZhyphenhyphenBMX4a/s320/oiled-bird-2.jpg" />Gawd. How awful/frustrating/infuriating/horrifying. I think the worst part is that, with a few exceptions, we all seem to be a bit underutilized, waiting for BP to do what's right. And they just won't.<br /><br />I even got disgusted enough to email the <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/contact">White House</a> and all the state volunteer registration sites. I told to them I'm *very* good at organizing volunteers, and I can work down there all summer, for free. I've organized for many a benefit and I would love, LOVE to do it for something non-fancy-party related. If they take me up on it, I'll let you know. I'll totally go! It would at least give me some new and exciting blog topics.<br /><br />I bet I'm not the only person with something to give. Maybe not weeks of free labor, but something, right?<br /><br />I know not everyone can take off work and fly down to the coast, but if you could do something, what would you do? Wash that bird up there? Hold a fundraiser for oystermen? Lay some boom?</span></span><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Are you as pissed off as I am?</span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-48054058187008572162010-06-07T06:00:00.000-07:002010-06-21T15:36:05.071-07:00STAY debut and QUERY CONTEST<div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2WgiLCK3Qgnznuqrs_iZC4tQ4lO_lmTZH_xv4EQ2Hm-_Be-NgRfpabOh4g6XDT9tvrbwOGNFwonIQt5cuPPCRWiG2T-ndLkIylDF6O4dC-IgdZ0JCRoRSp85cfiW-opmVwWrn6VbJ1Uq1/s320/stay-cover-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479245282159082162" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Updated: CONGRATS <a href="http://wendypinkstoncebula.blogspot.com/2010/06/we-have-winner.html">VICKI LANE</a>!</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Listen up! STAY by Allie Larkin is coming out this week! How cute is that cover? Love. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">To honor this momentous event, we've strongarmed amazing agent Rebecca Strauss of </span><a href="http://www.mcintoshandotis.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">McIntosh & Otis</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> into a query contest! (Actually, she was happy to do it.) Wondering of you have an effective query? Allie will choose one winner at random for a private critique by Rebecca. Just leave a comment below and let me know if you'd like to be entered. To up your chances, you can also visit </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://allielarkin.blogspot.com/2010/06/query-letter-contest.html">Allie</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> and </span><a href="http://www.corinnebowen.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Corinne Bowen</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (one comment per blog, please.)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>ETA: The winner will be selected by Allie FRIDAY at NOON and contacted shortly thereafter.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Here's a little about Rebecca:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">An Agent at McIntosh & Otis, Inc., Rebecca is eager to work with both debut and established authors. She is looking to add to her list of diverse and compelling projects and is particularly seeking non-fiction, literary and commercial fiction, women's fiction, mysteries, memoirs, humor and </span></i></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275849779_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">pop culture</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">. As the Director of Subsidiary Rights, she continues to build on her prior experience with Trident Media Group, as well as her time at </span></i></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275849779_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Sony Pictures</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> where she was a book scout and development assistant. Rebecca earned her degree in </span></i></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275849779_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">English Literature</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> from </span></i></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1275849779_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Duke University</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">.</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So what's this STAY all about?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">From PW: Twenty-something Van Leone, fresh from serving as maid of honor at the wedding of her childhood best friend and the man Van's been in love with since college, impulsively buys a German shepherd puppy on the Internet while drowning her sorrows in vodka and a late-night Rin Tin Tin marathon. Van's surprised to discover, however, that the little ball of fuzz she's expecting is an enormous Slovakian police dog that she names Joe. </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sounds like something I might've done in my 20s. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Lucky me, I already have my copy and I can tell you that it's great--so witty and funny. Allie was nice enough to answer a few questions for us:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I know you have 2 dogs--one of which made the cover of your novel. What's the craziest thing your dogs have done?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They are both German Shepherds, so they play hard. It’s somewhat reminiscent of a nature documentary.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They bark and growl and roll around on the ground together (sometimes in the yard and sometimes in the living room).</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span>Their teeth gnash, but their tales wag the whole time.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They play until they are completely exhausted.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Sometimes, Argo lets Stella tackle him, and it’s hysterical.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Stella is small for a German Shepherd, and Argo has about 35 pounds on her, but he’ll throw himself on the ground like she’s knocked him over, when she clearly doesn’t have the heft to.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span>He’s very dramatic.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How did you find your agent?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I found Rebecca Strauss’s listing on AgentQuery.com and thought she might be a good fit for my book.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I sent her a query letter, sample pages, and a synopsis, and she picked my query out of the slush pile.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I know a lot of writers fear that things like that don’t happen and it’s all about who you know.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had a few contacts who were generous with their help, but ultimately what worked for me was sending a query through the traditional submission lines.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span></span>Rebecca and I had no previous connections.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Who would you cast in the movie version of STAY, if you had a choice?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">J and I joke about casting choices all the time. I'm</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> on a Buffy/Angel kick right now, so the current joke is James Marsters in every role.</span></span></p></span><p></p></span><p></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What led you to writing?</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I started college, I was a theatre major.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I loved my acting classes.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We worked on developing characters, taking apart scenes, and figuring out the intentions behind the characters in the scenes.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was less enthralled with that whole getting up and performing on stage part of things, which is not really ideal when you’re a theatre major.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I dropped out of school for several years.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I finally went back, as a Communications major, I had a few professors who really made a point of letting me know that writing was something I should consider pursuing.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am so thankful for that.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I added some creative writing classes to my course schedule in future semesters.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I started writing fiction, I felt like things began to click for me. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Under what circumstances are you at your most creative?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I come up with a lot of story ideas and solve a lot of issues that are holding me up in a story when I’m doing something active.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I realized Van needed a dog while I was raking leaves in the backyard.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I worked out some difficult Van/Peter dialogue while hiking with Argo.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So much of my creative process happens while I’m not writing, and then when I sit down to write, I know what I need to do.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What sort of themes do you find come up in your writing?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’m very interested in how complex friendships can be.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Some are both delicate and durable at the same time.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And even though there is a simplicity to some aspects of love, the way we love people and the reasons we love people are not simple concepts.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thanks, Allie! </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Well, what are you waiting for? Leave a comment and go visit Allie and Corinne!</span></span></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5817248340630521543.post-77025329695470934542010-06-02T09:05:00.000-07:002010-06-02T09:51:51.276-07:00Using Quotes<div>I'm usually not a lover of famous quotes as a chapter opener. In fact, if the quote is too long, I've been known to skip right over it (shhh, don't tell the author) and get right in to the meat of the story. But a few months ago, I stumbled across the world's most appropriate quote for my current manuscript. I'm obsessed with it! Could not be more perfect! </div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently there are all sorts of legal wranglings for using quotes in your novel. It has to fall under "fair use" and there are rules about determining if that's the case. I know I'm getting ahead of myself here, as usual, but I guess I'm just wondering if it's even worth pursuing. (I realize there are people who deal with this sort of thing--I'm just taking a poll.)</div><div><br /></div><div>What do you all think about famous quotes in novels. And by "quotes," I don't mean, "As Julius Caesar once said, "Et tu, Brute?" but something more like this:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Chapter 1</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Blah blah blah blah. Blah!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i> --Willie Nelson</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Tell me. Do you read them? Are you impressed by the author's mad quoting skillz? Or do you skim and skip?</div><div><br /></div>WendyCinNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15548500219172368038noreply@blogger.com14