All Hallows Eve! Party Time!

Hey guys! Thanks for coming to my party! What? Yeah, there's a ton of people here already, but that's what happens when you invite characters—they all want to come. Don't worry, there's plenty of food and Code Red for everyone. I recommend the empanadas Luke's mom made. Holy. Cow. They're gooood.

Oh, you are so sweet! My costume is pretty spectacular, huh.

It took a lot of work to compile all the steampunk elements, but it was so much fun. The research I had to do came in handy for Spork, too. I can't thank Michelle enough for taking the pictures, and a big shout out to her awesome husband Adam for letting me borrow the swords.

So let me introduce you to a few of these people, so you don't feel so overwhelmed. There's Coral and Luke over there—from my project Void. She was telling me the funniest story about their costumes:

Setting: Coral Starfall’s small Fremont apartment—in the ridiculously Victorian living room that no 17-year-old should have. Gilding. Doilies. Velvet. (Coral: I’d like to interject. The décor was not my choice. I’m totally planning on redecorating. Soon.)

Stacia, Coral’s younger sister, teleports into the room. She waves a golden piece of paper in the air. Coral and Luke, who are sitting on the couch, give her a puzzled look.

Coral: What’s that?

Stacia: Halloween Party invitation! Can we go? Pleeeeaaasse? I swear I won’t jinx anyone this time.

Luke: As long as we don’t have to dress up. Costumes are for kids.

Stacia pouts, pointing to the invitation.

Stacia: But it says costumes mandatory!

Coral puts her hand on Luke’s knee, and he melts a little.

Coral: I don’t know, costume party sounds fun. We can take the whole gang.

Luke: Fine, I’ll just wear my football jersey. An impish grin crosses his lips. And I’ll find you a cheerleader outfit.

Coral: No way! She smacks his arm. I’m going as a mechanic…or maybe I’ll wear my motocross gear.

Luke: That’s not a bad idea.

Stacia: I think I’ll wear my blue silk dress—my boobs will look spectacular in that now.

Coral: Uh-uh. You’re fifteen. Just because you finally have them doesn’t mean you should show them off.

Luke: It is Halloween.

Coral: Luke!

Luke: I’m kidding! No one should be seeing your boobs, Stacia, even on Halloween.

Coral: But you can wear another fancy dress, like the green one.

Stacia: No fair! She stomps her feet a few times and rushes to the bedroom just so she can slam the door.

Coral sighs, leaning back into Luke.

Coral: I’m thinking mechanic, like Winry Rockbell on Fullmetal Alchemist or something.

Luke: I’d be a fan of that, especially if you wore that little black thing she wears. You’d be hot.

Coral: I’d only do that if you went as Edward Elric.

Luke: Deal.

They look so cute, huh. Though I think that's the most skin Coral has ever shown. Stacia wouldn't even be in the picture—she's not happy about the double standards.

Oh, yeah, that is a Luau in the corner. Lani, from Hammered, brought out all the Polynesian stuff. Danie didn't even want to come (she's not a fan of crowds), but Lani made her dress up as a Tahitian dancer. Troy's the hot shirtless guy following her around...he looks way too good with that lei around his neck.

Tosh? Yeah, he said they were coming, but then Amy texted me and said they had some...business to attend to. Something about grappling hooks? Sounded ominous. They'll be here later, I'm sure.

But my characters aren't the only ones here! My friend H-Duck came along with her family in tow. They're a magician's act! So cute:
And Frank came with all his characters as well! They are having a great time, except it seems one is still trying to find the door...Aurora, go around front! You have the right place!

Adam brought along one seriously freaky dude—Azrael from his Air Pirate series. Don't get too close; he's known to curse people:

And Mariah Irvin came! I'm not sure which costume she chose, but I find it hilarious that she was even considering David Bowie when she could go as a pirate!

So fantastic. A lot of other people are here, too! Thanks to all that sent in their flash fiction—unfortunately I can't post them all right here. But please feel free to post links in the comments if you want to share your own Halloween shorts or pictures (even if they're not contest entries).

I figure you've heard about my Contest for my 2nd Blogaversary/Halloween/2nd Anniversary of my First Rejection from My Agent. So much to celebrate! You're probably dying to know who won—who will receive a super awesome sketch from yours truly.

Okay, okay, I'll announce it if you really want me to. Then we can get back to eating and dancing and stuff.

Drumroll, please...

*Drumming, drumming*

The Runner-up, receiver of a black-and-white sketch of their choosing, is Mariah Irvin! Yay! Everyone give her a hand for making me laugh. So what'd you end up choosing? David or the Pirate?

Okay, more drumroll.

*Drumming, drumming*

The Grand Prize Winner....

*Drumming, drumming*

Who will receive a full color drawing of their choosing...

*Drumming, drumming*

Is none other than Renee Collins!

Yay! Okay, I know she's one of my best friends, but she EARNED this prize, people. I could not stop laughing last night after I read her short, which details the risks of going as an Egyptian Queen for Halloween. Her entry is below. Enjoy.

Dust
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Amenhotep was a mummy. Second, there was a part of him-and I didn’t know how potent that part might be-that was rotting inside of his bandages. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

It started off as a Halloween dare. Dressed up as an Egyptian Queen, I was to spend a single night in our local crypt.

Trembling in my white linen and emeralds, I stepped into the dusty darkness. Not scared, I told myself. Totally not scared.

I was terrified.

I sat down against the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees, and stared at the faded hieroglyphics on the walls. From my vast knowledge in Ancient Egypt, I can decipher that this tomb once belonged to some dude names Amenhotep. Hmmm, sounds kinda hot, I said to myself.

Suddenly, a loud creaking sound filled the room. My gaze flashed to the gilded sarcophagus across from me.

“Who’s there?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

And then I saw him.

The frayed bandages. The brittle frame. The beautiful, gleaming red eyes. The faint stench of death. He was so gorgeous, I nearly swooned.

“Renee,” he said, staggering towards me with both arms straight out in front of him. His voice was like bones rumbling over gravel. Again, I nearly swooned. My eyes were fixed on him.

“You're painfully slow,” I say, breathing hard. “And fragile. Your skin is... well, it’s covered with bandages, but I can see bits of it and it looks like beef jerky. And you speak like you're from a different time. You couldn’t possibly eat or drink any thing, I guess because of the bandages. And you don't go into the sunlight.”

He moves closer, dragging his left leg, which is stiff with rigormortis.

“How old are you?” I ask.

“Three thousand five hundred.”

“How long have been three thousand five hundred?”

“Um . . . three thousand five hundred years.”

I swallow hard. “I know what you are.”

“Say it,” he croaks. “Out loud. Say it.”

“Mummy.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No.”

Amenhotep reaches his creaking arms around me. We embrace, but I’m careful not to hold him too hard, lest he crumble under the pressure.

“I will love you forever,” I whisper.

“Me too,” he says. “Me too.”

If you have a problem with my choices, please take it up with management. Though I should warn you, he's taken out a whole horde of "gobuhlins" just this morning. He might be short, but he's FIERCE.

Okay, everyone, have fun at the party. Leave all the comments you want—your characters can leave comments too, if they want. Have a lovely Halloween!

Menagerie

A few matters of business today:

1. Don't forget to enter my Halloween Party/Contest! Get ready, guys, it's gonna be FUN. I'm making my stellar 7-layer dip! There'll probably be a mean scrabble game going on. And there will definitely be music. Oh, and prizes. You still have like 10 hours until deadline (and I won't kill you if it's a little late...like even tomorrow morning).

And if that's not enough to get you there, my ninja will find you and make you come. This is your warning:


2. The lovely Alexa is giving away FIRE by Kristin Cashore! Run over and enter. Except don't enter too many times because I really want this book...and I'm not allowed to buy more books after how many I bought this month. No, it's true; I got in big trouble (see the ninja above).

Anyway, for Alexa's contest all you gotta do is tell her which cover you like best—US or UK. It's Cover Wars! Hehe. I think it's a fun idea.

3. If you HURRY, you can still get in on Carrie's TWILIGHT/Classic Mash-up Title Contest. She's giving away a copy of the fairy short story anthology she is in. The title of her story? Revenge of the Mucus Shovel Fairy. My friends are awesome.

4. Debra was kind enough to give me an award. Thank you so much! Fortunately, I've already received this award so I can easily link you the meme it requires. Mwahaha.

5. Update: I'm glad I reserved this spot, because I just found the other award I got! The wonderful Myrna gave me an award for sheer awesomeness. Thank you. I feel pretty awesome now.

6. Reserved in case I forgot more stuff.

Have a lovely Friday—see you tomorrow!

Tips for First Drafting

Oh, the first draft. Some people like them—some people hate them with the fire of a thousand vengeful ex-girlfriends. But no matter how you feel about that first draft, you have to write it! There is no getting around it, promise.

My good friend, the incredible Stephanie Perkins, did an indispensable post on self-editing (and HBMs in scarfs). Seriously, if you haven't checked it out yet—go now. My post can wait for you.

No really, did you go read it? Good.

Anyway, this got me thinking maybe I should impart whatever wisdom I might have on first drafts. Because Steph is the PRO when it comes to editing, and I kinda sorta know a few things about first drafts...what with how many I've written. Couldn't hurt to share, right?

1. Write How YOU Write
We're always hearing about how other people write, and sometimes we think that's how we should write too. The "slow writers" want to write faster. The "fast writers" worry they should be slower or deeper/tortured. The fantasy writers wish they could write meaningful contemporary. The contemporary mourn their lack of ability to build fantasy worlds. Etc. And so forth.

Not true.

The only writer you can be is you. The only story you can write is your own. The only way you're going to stand out in the market is by channeling your own unique voice. So just accept that and enjoy it.

2. Have An Idea
Ideas come easy for some people (raises hand), and not-so-easy for others. That's okay. You don't have to have a handful of ideas to choose from—you need one. They take a while to write down any way.

The funny thing about Ideas is that they usually come from doing mundane things or nothing at all. Try and think of Ideas and they will constantly elude you. Most of mine have struck when cooking, cleaning, driving, trying to sleep, and doing the other "boring" things in my life. So I fully recommend doing nothing and seeing what comes to mind.

No—I'm serious. I'm telling you to do nothing. The Wall Street Journal's backing me up, too.

Okay, I guess you could brainstorm, if you want. I hear that works for some people. But when I do that, I end up talking myself out of every idea...I still talk myself out of many.

3. Let It Fester
Ideas are great, but they're such little things when they first come. One character. A setting. Perhaps a premise. Whatever it may be, it's not enough to create a full on story, that's for sure.

If you were me, you'd do more nothing while it grew in your brain. You'd let the characters start talking to you about their lives and world and what they want most. Then, when your MC finally delivered the first line, you'd start writing.

But that's not the only way to Let It Fester. Some people take notes or draw maps (I do sometimes). They start filling out character sheets and outlining plot/character arcs. They even outline, chapter by chapter, their whole idea.

This is all fine! Write How YOU Write, remember? The important thing is letting that little Idea blossom into a story, and then deciding how you want to let that story come out.

4. Research
More likely than not, you will have to research something to write your book. Even in fantasy, it's important to create a verisimilitude—it has to feel real. If you have your characters riding horseback and you've never ridden a horse, you might need to look up terms and ask others what it's like. Even in contemporary fiction you'll have to research, you may be using a city you've never been to, or maybe your character has a hobby you know nothing about.

I cannot tell you how many Youtube karate, motocross, and surfing videos I've watched just to get a sense of my character's hobbies. Dedication, people, dedication. It takes a lot of work to dig up stuff like this:


No, in all seriousness, do your research. There are few things that bug readers more than inaccurate/unbelievable details.

Besides, research is an amazing way to grow those baby Ideas too. There have been many occasions where by reading boring stuff (like the history of aluminum [dead serious]) I've had HUGE epiphanies about my stories.

One warning, though: DO NOT OVER RESEARCH. Some writers never stop researching, which means they never start writing. Or when they do, their prose reads more like an encyclopedia than a novel.

I personally research while I'm writing the first draft—I only look stuff up when I get to a point in the book that I need to know. This, I think, helps me avoid the pitfalls of researching too much. And you can always fill out details in a later draft.

5. Write The Freaking Book
A lot of writers have absolutely no problem with Tips 1-4, but then they sit down to write and glaze over.

"I have to...what? Put words on paper/screen?" Panic sets in. Once upon a time starts to look like the most brilliant opening line on the planet. You realize just how much work it's going to be to make that Idea an actual novel.

And if that doesn't happen right off, it happens eventually. It's not the first page that scares me—it's somewhere between page 30 and 50 (or the end of the first Act). I start thinking, "Is this good enough? Is it worth the work? Am I messing it up?"

It's scary. You are investing so much time, and it may never pay off. I think that fear is one of the major reasons people get stuck on the first draft, so here are some tips for quelling the fear:

• Write because you love it. I know professional writers actually get paid, but that's still not why they write...at least I hope not.

• Writing is never a waste of your time. You are learning your craft. Even if the book is never published or the scene you write ultimately gets cut—you will take valuable lessons from it.

• If you don't invest the time, it will never pay off in growth or cash. No "might" about it.

Another big issue that hinders first drafting is simply not knowing what the heck comes next. I get stuck all the time, and yet you'll never hear me call this writer's block. I don't believe in that. Getting a little stuck is inevitable. Even if you have a detailed outline, sometimes your characters surprise you, sometimes things don't happen they way you thought they would. Here are a few things to try:

• Keep going! So you might write some crap scenes that you'll have to cut later, but remember how you're not wasting time? Yeah, you're not. Maybe that crap scene will open up the AWESOME scene that comes next.
  

• Talk about it with someone. Tell them about your story, where your characters are at, and see if you can get some inspiration. I do this frequently—I ask my alphas/closest friends. They'll suggest something completely ridiculous, and I'll be like, "NO! Not that. They're supposed to...GASP! That's it!"

• Do nothing for a second, just like Tip #3. Sometimes all I need is a bubble bath or a walk or a little power yoga or, okay, a double cheeseburger and onion rings. And then BAM, the story opens up.
  

• Whatever you do, DON'T freak out. The story will come back. If you start to panic about losing it, about never finishing, about doing it wrong...you're just going to make it harder than it needs to be. Promise—everyone gets stuck from time to time.

And finally, the other major hindrance in first drafting is the dreaded, the ever-formidable Inner Editor. Some people picture a straight-nosed, pencil-skirted woman with cat-eye glasses who scrutinizes their every word with a disapproving glare.

My Inner Editor is a boy—a punk boy with messy hair, a smart mouth, and a permanently smug grin. He heckles me. A lot. "You wrote that? For real?" "I didn't know adverbs were back in style. Oh wait, they aren't." "That description is LAME! Dude, you're the lamest writer ever!" And then he laughs and points at me.

And yet I secretly have a crush on him. Yes, it's messed up.

But I have made a list of effective comebacks for my Inner Editor:

• "Have you ever written a first draft?" My Inner Editor blinks rapidly. "Uh, no." I tell him he has no right to criticize then, because I've written a few. I know they aren't perfect, but they turn out pretty good for a first attempt.
  

• "Do you want me to finish or not? Because you can't get your hands on it until it's done." Inner Editor hates this one, because he really likes to clean up my first drafts. He's only heckling me because he's so excited to get his hands on it; he loves my ideas. "Shut up!" He blushes. "I do not." He's not a good liar.

• "I'll go back and fix the typos, okay?" Negotiating is rather effective. I'm not the writer who just keeps going without looking back once. I reread my chapters several times, do a light clean. Every morning I read the last chapter I wrote and tweak. It keeps Inner Editor satisfied enough to play his Nintendo DS in the corner.

If you can cope with those three pitfalls—fear, getting stuck, and the Inner Editor—you can get your first draft written. It still might take a long time, but that's okay. Unless you have a deadline, there's no reason to rush. And if you do have a deadline, take reasonable bites, schedule, and don't beat yourself up if life gets in the way.

Ultimately, first drafts are a lesson in forgiveness. You have to cut yourself some slack. It's not going to be perfect no matter how much you try to make it perfect. So you just have to forgive yourself in advance for making mistakes.

Luckily, stories are malleable. And the first draft is just that—a first draft. You can always make it better with a healthy dose of editing. There's nothing wrong with work, right?

More Purge Writing

Reminder: Don't forget to enter my Halloween Party/Contest! You still have until Friday! There have been some great entries so far, but there's definitely room for more.

I have this problem where ideas pile up in my head. (Okay, some of you might not consider that a problem, but you're wrong;P) There are so many "voices" vying for attention that I can't sleep some nights, which is very annoying. I swear, the second I hit the pillow, all these people start talking. Tosh is still a major offender, as is Gil, Coral, Charlotte, Reggie, Corbin, and this Duchess-turned-pirate girl yet to be named. (Also, looking at this list I realize I have a thing for "C" names...interesting.)

What? I'm crazy? Why yes, I am.

Anyway...the following is just some purge writing. You don't have to read on. I'm just getting a voice out in hopes that it'll stop bugging me for a while.

After
People said my great grandfather had lost his mind. It was a fair assumption—he's even consented that—but that didn't stop him from collecting antique firearms. He had a whole room of AK47s alone, and an even bigger room full of old ammo. He didn't trust the "new fangled" digital world in all its intangible, convenient glory.

"If it sounds too good to be true, then it is," he still says. "Easy is the devil's favorite tool."

They laughed at him, all those people with their electronic gadgets and the world at their fingertips. Wacko James O'Neal, using his hand to write, hording paper, and saving old guns. But he thought it was prudent planning.

"If the world goes to hell, Johnny, you can always get food if you have a gun," he'd tell my grandpa.

After the world went to hell, people didn't think he was so crazy.

His secret cabin in the mountains became the very first building of O'Neal Sanctuary, the only place we've seen where a survivor can come without price. We don't care if they're a gang member or anything, just so long as they abide by the community rules.

We need all the people we can get. We're always searching for survivors, for the solitaries who hide from the gangs and their cruel laws. I search even now with my gun at ready.

The Bad Boy

I'm getting a little tired of the Bad Boy. Oh wait, scratch that, I'm completely sick of the Bad Boy. I was never a huge fan of the trope to begin with, but it's kinda getting out of hand in YA fiction. They're everywhere! It's like a zombie apocalypse or something.

But it's not so much the Bad Boy himself that I'm opposed to (let's face it, Bad Boys are fun to write and can add some serious flavor to a work)—it's the glorification of this kind of behavior/relationship.

We need to be more aware of what we are saying with this girl-falls-for-Bad Boy storyline. You're probably expecting me to go into abuse or making dumb decisions (both big issues, for sure), but I'm going to go all deep on you. (Hey! I can be deep. I swear.)

The Bad Boy is really a symbol. He stands for the mystery and unattainable quality that ALL boys seem to have when you're a teen girl. Just like the Hot Cheerleader is that symbol of unattainable for teen boys.

I remember all too well how guys seemed to be this whole other creature when I was younger, like we weren't even the same species. And it felt like if I could just crack the code, then maybe I'd get their attention...maybe one would like me. Because I sure liked them, except I didn't really have any idea why other than the fact that they were all so cute. Having a boyfriend was like the ultimate status symbol; it meant you cracked the guy code. Or something like that.

That is the center of the Bad Boy trope—girl unlocks the mysterious guy code and thereby obtains the ever-coveted Boyfriend. It gives girls hope that love is attainable, and that is why it's such an effective plot.

Here's why I think you have to be really careful about what you're saying (intentional or not) with this trope:

1. Perpetuating Over-exaggerated Differences
This is a fine line to walk. Because on the one hand, yes, boys are different from girls in a lot of ways. But they're not that different. Should we perpetuate the idea that boys and girls are completely opposite creatures? I don't think it's healthy. Of course, for the sake of realism, you can't ignore how teens feel, but I also hope to show that "decoding" a boy is as simple as seeing him as a human being.

2. Boyfriend As Main Goal
A lot of times in these stories—and I'm sure it's in no way intentional—there's this underlying feel that having a Boyfriend is the best most important thing in life. The girls have no other goals or motives, and that's just a crying shame! Do all girls live for the validation of boys? I like to think not. (Okay, I'm praying that's not true and knowing it's not working.)

It is possible to write a girl who cares about more than the cute boys around her. I love reading about these girls. While they often do find love in their stories, it's not their whole entire life. I'm going to use Aprilynne Pike's Wings as a really nice example of this. There's all sorts of romantic tension—but her MC's main goal is to figure out what's happening to her. Yay, Aprilynne!

3. How your Heroine Cracks the Code
I think what kills me the most about these Bad Boy stories is how the Heroine ends up getting the Bad Boy. Far too often they change themselves for the boy—they want that boy so bad they give up part of themselves, excuse inexcusable behavior on Bad Boy's part, and then claim it's love. This is not acceptable to me.

Girls are already brainwashed from a very young age that being themselves isn't enough. Change your hair. Change your clothes. Change your values. Change your boobs, even. Change everything about you or you'll never get a guy or anything else in life. Sorry, but that's just not cool, even if it's "true to life."


I can't ignore these issues, which is why I've never written a Girl-tames-the-Bad Boy kind of book. When I write female MCs, I want to send positive messages if at all possible. But that's not to say the Bad Boy can't be done in a good way—just that there are a lot of things to be careful of when you write. I've even read a select few that walk the Bad Boy trope with realism and an excellent message. Like Kelley Armstrong's The Summoning series. Her MC doesn't let the Bad Boy get away with his bad behavior, and I so respect that she wrote a girl who stands up to that mysterious boy.

There are so many stories out there to write, and I just hope we can see more positive ones in the future. At least a variety. I know the Bad Boy is accurate to life in many ways, but maybe we can make a new "accurate to life" by burying this trope for a while.

Steampunk, According to Me

Reminder: Enter my Halloween Party Contest! Really, it'll be super fun, and you could get a one-of-a-kind drawing!

You can find many a post about Steampunk out there on the web, but I thought I'd try and simplify it for those of you who might read those posts and still come away with a little head scratching.

So, hello there, I'm Natalie Whipple, you all look very nice. Love the bedhead look. I'll be your guide through the many facets of Steampunkery. (Yes, this is a preview of my Halloween costume. Doesn't it rock? Just wait till you see the whole thing—there's swords.)

Steampunk is a cooler word for Victorian Era Fantasy. It covers a massive range of fantastical topics, but picture gritty, industrial, imperial, adventurous, and out-of-this-world-but-not-quite.

Just like ninjas have iconic images such as face masks, swords, and shuriken, steampunk has goggles, clocks, and gears. The genre is all about pushing 19th century technology way, way outside its reality—as in steam powered airships, motorcycles, and all sorts of other crazy contraptions and weapons. Magic often abounds. There are really no limits, which is why it's so much fun.

Examples, mayhaps?

Steampunk fashion is typically Victorian in nature, but it spans the wide range of classes/styles that was 19th century life. Here are a few references, though there are many, many more out there a google search away.

You have the "Aristocratic" look with a few proper modifications. (No, I do not stare at this picture of hot Asian steampunk boy on a regular basis...)

There's still some of that pure Victorian elegance, but also a gritty industrialism to it as well. (Probably where the "punk" part of the name comes from.)

This is a good example of the militaristic look.

Then there's kind of a "piratey" quality as well. Kind of the "lower class," gritty thing.

And then there are the contraptions. Oh, the contraptions. The imagination never ceases with these things. How can you not love the genre with stuff like this?

One of many steam motorcycle examples. I want to ride this.

These are spray-painted, modified nerf guns. Can we say awesome? Awesome.

Steampunks have also taken to modifying modern technology to look beautifully old and cool.

Tell me you can picture a steampunk rock band, because I so can.

In movies, Steampunk has been around for a while. Whether you know it or not, you've probably seen a little yourself:

Like, say, Disney's Atlantis.

Or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

Then there's Full Metal Alchemist

Or Castle In The Sky

Or Howl's Moving Castle. (And a host of other anime/manga.)

Even Stardust has some steampunky elements.

There are a bunch more, too, like Wild Wild West or Around the World In 80 Days.

In books, steampunk has also been around for quite a while, but it's becoming a bit of a "hot new genre." The newest books with the most buzz I've heard about are:

Boneshaker by Cherie Priest (click image for Amazon page):

And Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld:
Both look absolutely fabulous and are on my very long list of things to read.

So...are you hooked yet? The visuals alone make me want to write. Just like the Victorian Era itself, Steampunk is all about discovery and endless possibilities. There is still world and knowledge to uncover, still room for magic, still mystery in science. It's a place where the adventurer's spirit lives on.

Saturday Steampunk Sketch

Picture! Here's the picture! So late, I know, but I finally finished running around, and now I can show you the awesomeness.

This is Lizelle Cartier from Spork, my French-twisted steampunky thingamajob. She's that character that keeps surprising me as I write—and I love her for it. She's spunky and smart and not afraid to show it, despite some open criticism for her boy-like behavior.

I'd talk more, but it'd probably turn into rambling...I need to lay down. Well, first I need to drive back home. I haven't been home for more than an hour or so today.

Le sigh. Au revoir.

Saturday Sketch...Is Coming

Hi, so my Saturdays are usually crazy, but today has been completely insane. Never fear, the drawing for today is done—I just haven't been able to drive up to my family's house to scan it. (I know, why don't I have a scanner? Me = Poor.) It's totally cool though. And steampunky.

It WILL be up today at some point. Please enjoy this wonderful, happy song from Owl City while you wait. It's impossible to be unhappy while listening.

Halloween Party/Contest

Halloween is in a week, guys. Are you excited? I am. I've got my steampunk costume all ready to go, and there will be pictures. Since it's also on a Saturday, that means Saturday Sketch is going to be extra special.

It's also kind of my 2nd Blogaversary, or whatever. (Okay, technically it was October 10th, but I figured we should just cram all the celebrating into one day.)

AND it's the 2nd anniversary of my very first rejection from you-know-who, hehe. I'm totally celebrating that just because it's funny.

So, in lieu of all this awesomness, my characters are throwing a Halloween Party! You and all of your characters are invited! I'm serious—it's a contest. There will be a grand prize.

I want to know what your characters (and/or you) are going as for Halloween—and you gotta be creative about it. Write me flash fiction (1k words max) about them at my awesome virtual Halloween Party. Or take a picture of you in your costume. Or draw your characters all dressed up and ready to groove. Whatever, just have fun with it.

My absolute favorite entry will win a full color drawing of their choice.

The First Runner-up will win a black and white drawing of their choice.

(Drawing Samples)

The contest will close next Friday at 7 p.m. MST. You may email your entries to my real email address if you have it, or to my secondary address: natalie dot walus at gmail dot com.

See you at the party! I'll be the girl with the sword and awesome clock gear earrings.

Writing Race

I’m fully aware this is going to open a massive jumbo bucket of worms, but I’ve been in a courageous mood lately, what with publicly admitting my emotionally abusive relationship and all. Now I want to talk about writing outside your race.

If you don’t know, the MC in my novel, Relax, I’m a Ninja, is a Japanese American boy. And if you take a look at my picture…yeah, I’m not Asian or a boy.

Tosh was the voice that came to me when I thought of this story. I’d never written a boy—and I’d never written an MC that wasn’t my own race. Honestly, the idea scared me for a while. I avoided writing it because of what other people might think. I didn’t want to write him wrong; I didn’t want to offend; I didn’t want to make my book about race when it’s really just a fun story about ninjas and secrets and such.

But this crazy boy wouldn’t stop talking to me. And the more I learned about him, the more I fell in love with him. I had to write him. Then I realized I was falling prey to the underlying problem that fuels all the world’s discrimination issues—fear. Particularly, fear of those who are “other.”

I don’t know if it’s culture or just human nature, but we have this false idea that someone being another race or religion or culture makes them fundamentally different from us. We see it across the globe and throughout history. People fear that which they don’t know, and they do really stupid things about it.

The thing is, we’re not different. We are all human beings—we are all capable of the same core emotions. I may not have grown up Muslim, but I understand what it is to be devoted to my faith. I may not have brown skin, but my childhood was plagued with persecution because of my religion and “ugly” appearance. I know what love feels like, and hate and anger and fear and joy. I know some will say it’s not the same thing—I don’t feel exactly what they do—and they’re right. But we can empathize with each other, and I think this is the key.

If we’re ever going to get past humanity’s long and ugly history, we have to stop seeing ourselves as separate from other human beings. As individual as we all are, we are a global family capable of empathy if we’ll open our minds to it.

So I wrote Tosh. I was shocked how easy it was, too. Yes, I had to research the nitty gritty details to get the cultural aspects right, but those didn’t change who Tosh was in my head as much as one would think. Because I didn’t see him as Japanese or a nerd or a boy or a kick-butt ninja. He was just Tosh—a complete individual. And his culture is certainly a part of him, but he brings his own personality to it in a way that’s hard to explain.

I think a lot of writers worry they’ll fall into stereotypes if they try to write a multicultural character, but I promise you won’t. Why? Because stereotypes aren’t created by the writer—they are brought to a work by the reader. If someone reads your work and points something out, it has more to do with their life’s experiences than what you wrote. Does Tosh fall into some stereotypes? Sure—we all do. He also breaks a lot of them. (Aprilynne Pike did a great post on this.) But once we crack through the surface of a person, they are always deep and unique and so very human.

Some writers might also worry they’ll offend someone with how they write a multicultural character. This was my major worry, until I remembered that someone will always be offended. Look at what has happened because of our fear to offend—people are offended that no one writes multicultural characters! I might make mistakes, and I’m completely prepared for people to be upset about what I created. But I’m also willing to learn, to open up a dialogue and increase my ability to empathize with my fellow human beings. Isn’t that what writing is supposed to do?

I’m not telling anyone out there that you have to write a different race (but it wouldn't hurt;P)—I’m just saying we need to stop this fear of it. Write the story you want to write, even if it’s big and scary and different from you. The only way to change things is to stretch out of our comfort zones and try new things. There are so many different ways to do that. This is just one of them.

Loose Ends

Okay, the rest of the Q&A answers today! Thanks again for asking so many great questions.

Natalie (Not me! Natalie Baum!) asked: Hmm…here's one I've thought about: What do you think about going to writing conferences when you already have an agent? Worth it?
I'd love to go to a conference and think it would be worth it! I've always seen conferences more as a chance to learn than to find an agent/editor. When I first learned about pitch sessions, they just didn't sound like the most effective way for a shy girl like me to get the publishing world's attention. I write for a reason—because it's so much easier to say what I want and not be nervous! Why in the world would I want to stand in front of a stranger and attempt to talk about my book? I'd rather let my words speak for me.

But the idea of classes and speakers and other writers has always been alluring. I think it would be really fun to be surrounded by people who totally get me. I mean, I love my family and non-writer friends, but they don't get the writing thing entirely. Hanging out with my people for a weekend sounds awesome.

I still have plenty to learn, too. Having an agent or even a book on the shelves doesn't mean there's nothing left to learn. There's always something I can improve on, and I think a conference could be a helpful way to learn some new things.

Jessie Oliveros asked: How do you balance writing and being a mom? (Constant struggle for me, so I like to know how others manage.)
I’m not sure I do balance it well, Jessie. I always try to put my kids first, but I can be honest and say that doesn’t happen all the time. Right now, I’m doing great because I don’t have any deadlines to meet.

Currently, I try to hang out with my kids in the morning while they’re both up. Once the baby is down for a nap, I usually try to get some writing done. It doesn’t always go well, since my son is up and likes to ask for things. But he will watch a movie. Once a week my angel mother takes him in the afternoon and I write my toosh off. The evening is a mess of dinner and bedtime routines, and after that I write more.

My routine is constantly changing based on my kids. I used to have a lot more time when they both napped. I have no clue what I'll do when they both don't...I'm guessing I have about 3-6 months until that happens. It'll be hard, but I'll figure it out.

I think the key is just to be flexible, and to accept the fact that it's just not going to happen some days. Sometimes I wish things could be different, that I could have all the time I want to write. That's when I make myself needlessly frustrated. My kids have to come first, but if I have a spare second you better bet I'm tacking another sentence onto the WIP.

The Blogger Girlz asked: Hey Natalie! I'm fairly new to your blog, but I love it! :D Anyway, I love to write YA fiction, but I'm also a sophmore in college and the work is TOUGH and by the time I'm done, I'm so exhausted the last thing I feel like doing is writing!

My question is: how do you light a fire under your butt to get yourself in the mood to write when you don't feel like it?
Being in school and writing, I imagine, is tough. I didn't write creatively in college, actually, so I don't exactly know how hard it must be. But as you saw above, I am a Mom, and I often have little time to write and very attractive puffy eyes.

This might sound weird, but you have to throw out the idea of "being in the mood" to write. If you wait to feel like you want to write, it might never happen. There are a million excuses not to write, and being in the mood is one of them. It's just like exercising—I'm never in the mood to exercise, but if I want to be healthy I have to do it. And after I do, I feel good and I'm happy I did.

I want to be a writer, so I just write. And sometimes I really don't want to, but I do it anyway. I tell myself I can stop if I want after 500 words, and some days it's absolute torture just to get there. The words suck sometimes, but I'm a writer and writers write.

Often though, this really cool thing happens—I get into a groove. I hit that 500 words and I want to keep going. Forcing myself to sit down and actually write gets me warmed up, and then suddenly I'm enjoying myself and the book. Then out of nowhere I'm looking at another finished chapter.

So it's not really a matter of getting in the mood, but writing despite your mood.

Also, I think it's because of the classes I'm taking and all the factual mumbo jumbo that gets crammed into my head everyday, but my story idea well seems to have gone dry and any idea that I come up with lately, I like it for a little while and then the next day I think it sucks. My next question is: How do you stay excited about an idea long enough to eventually make it into a completed manuscript?
All writers think their ideas suck at some point. But it's the same principle as above—you just have to keep going anyway. Ideas are these shiny fun things that flit into out brains and get us really excited. The Potential! The Raw Creativity!

But eventually that idea is going to be unbridled work. That's when many a writer gives up. Sometimes it happens on the first page. Sometimes it happens half way through the first draft. Sometimes it comes during editing.

Writing can be so fun, so when it becomes work we worry that we're doing something wrong. No! It's not true! Writing is just HARD.

I sometimes get dazzled by all the ideas in my head. They all want to come out at once—but I can't write more than one book at a time. So I pick one. It's not easy; sometimes I want to put the project down and work on something else. But I use that desire as motivation to finish.

I'm sure all this sounds like a wholly unromantic approach to writing, but it's what works for me. Writing is the ultimate test in Delayed Gratification. A lot of the time writing isn't fun or exciting. The payoff, if there is any, is very far down the road. But there are the moments when it's absolute pure bliss, when you discover the perfect way to say something. And then there's that epic moment when you finish—that sense of accomplish is worth it, promise.

Turning Off The Editor

I thought this was an interesting question Megan posed. And I'm going to attempt to answer it...though I'm not going to guarantee that's possible.

MeganRebekah asked: How do I turn off the writer/editor side of my brain when I'm reading? I miss being able to read through a fun book without stopping to think things like, 'Wow it would have been so great if they had shown this rather than just told us.'

Man, I'm so feeling you there. One of the hardest sacrifices for me as a writer has been giving up some of that reading enjoyment. It's hard to push out those critiques—especially if you've been knee deep in your own edits. I become the most over critical then, and it's just not a great time to read for pleasure.

A while ago I might have suggested giving yourself time to wind down before you read, or maybe not reading while you're working on projects. But that doesn't really help.

What I've found helps the most for me is thinking about the Author—not the Writing. Words can bring us closer as people, but like the internet, they can also provide a barrier that can make us more critical than we would be face-to-face. We sometimes forget that there is a living, breathing person behind that book. So now when I sit down to read, I think like this:

1. This Author is just like me—they were once just a writer with a dream to be published. They had an idea. They started writing it down. They have characters they love and a story they felt deep down needed to be told. They finished that story and felt the same elation I did. They then edited their brains out, and doubted themselves and their abilities. But they kept going.

2. This Author has been through the trenches just like me—they were once searching for an agent. They probably felt the same despair and frustration and stress that I did during that time. They also probably felt the same excitement and joy when someone finally offered representation. Then they had to face the terror that is submitting to editors. I so get that. And I can only imagine their joy when an editor offered a deal.

3. This Author is where I'm going to be—I believe I will be published one day. And when that day comes, I want anyone who picks up my little book to enjoy it. I hope that the story shines. That they'll overlook the inevitable imperfections and get a little lost in the world I worked so hard to create.

So basically, instead of approaching published works/Authors with skepticism, I try to approach them with understanding and excitement. I give Authors the benefit of the doubt—I tell myself that they worked hard on their book, which I'm positive is true no matter the outcome. And that deserves respect. If I see something that bugs me, I remind myself that style is subjective, that something about this book had enough merit to attract an editor's eye. I force myself to look for the good, for what I can learn and what I like.

I also remind myself that I am far from a perfect writer, and it's not fair to demand perfection from other writers when I myself can't deliver that. I'd hate for someone to gripe about the molehills in my book and miss the beautiful mountains. So when reading others' works for fun, I keep my head up and enjoy the view.

In the end, that's how I hope readers will treat my work.

Character Names

The adorable Mariah Irvin asked me about how I name my characters, and I couldn't resist doing a whole post on that. I could talk about it all day.

Character names are a big deal, aren't they? No matter how a writer finds names, I think we all become attached to what we call those voices in our heads. And people in general are really opinionated over names—look at all the crazy baby naming sites out there! Names say something—about culture, personality (at least stereotyped personality), about parents, etc.

Names have a subtle, yet important impact on character. Does your character like their name? Hate it? Do/did they get teased? Do they go by their middle name because their first name is awful? Nickname? It shapes them in some way.

Like my overall writing process, I tend to name my characters in a very "organic" way. The name has to fit the personality I'm feeling in my head. I hear a lot of people pick names with important meanings, but I have a stranger thought process. It's more...this name has to logically make sense for the character to have. Not whether I like it or if it has some deep meaning—it has to feel right within the context of the book.

I don't know if I'm making any sense. I think it'll be best if I pick a few names and explain my reasoning behind them. These are all from Relax, I'm a Ninja.

Toshiro Ito: When I was searching for a name for Tosh, I needed it to meet several requirements. First, it had to be Japanese, since he's first generation American and his parents would most likely use a Japanese name. Second, I wanted it to be shortened somehow—love nicknames. Third, I really wanted to have the "r" sound in there somewhere, so I could joke about how bad Americans butcher the Japanese "r." (Yes, that was really one of my requirements. Told you I was weird.) I also didn't want a "typical" Japanese boy name. Lots of Americans tend to fall back on Hiro and Yoshi, etc. I wanted something a little different.

So with all that in mind, I started looking up names. There were a few in the running, but I settled on Toshiro because I really like the idea/sound of "Tosh." It's the perfect blend of being American and Japanese, at least it felt that way to me. It also ended up meaning "talented, intelligent," which fit pretty well.

With his last name, I wanted something that wasn't overwhelming or hard to pronounce. Since his father is his sensei, I also didn't want to have to type something long everytime I had to say Ito Sensei or Ito Clan. Ito just "felt right."

Amy Sato: I had really weird requirements for her character's name. First, it had to be something simple...almost plain. The kind of name that an average girl would have—a girl that could blend in anywhere and with anyone. She's second generation American, so I wanted something that parents might name their child that could sound a bit Asian, but also American.

I picked out Amy very quickly without looking up anything. I didn't even really like the name, but it really seemed to fit her character. (I often end up with character names I don't like much, but they are perfect for them.) I looked up the name meaning a few months ago for the first time, and it means "beloved," which is surprisingly fitting.

Like with Tosh, I also wanted a non-overwhelming last name. Sato just had the right ring to it.

Courtney Petersen: When I first thought of my little witchy cheerleader, she was the ultimate stereotype of the blonde bombshell. I wanted a name that had that written all over it—very American, very mainstream, reeking of popular and Barbie doll pretty. The kind of girl you just love to hate, ya know?

But I knew I couldn't use the old staples from my childhood because they'd sound dated—hardly anyone names their babies Brittany, Tiffany, Stephanie, etc. anymore. So I had to find a name with the same "feel" that was a little less dated. Courtney jumped out. (Later I looked it up and it means "courteous," which is freaking hilarious.)

Petersen was a spunky, typical last name that flowed along with it. I really wanted her full name to flow, because she's the kind of girl that gets talked about with her whole name. "Did you hear what Courtney Petersen did last night?" "Look at what Courtney Petersen's wearing!" "Dang, Courtney Petersen is hot!" That kind of stuff.

So there's a little peek into my twisted process. I would love to list more, but I'm sure I'd be doing it for my own enjoyment at this point. The rest of the Q&A answers are coming this week. Stay tuned!

Saturday Sketch: Luke Abbot

This picture was requested by Carrie—happy future birthday! (Note: I don't often do requests, but if you're special I might draw what you suggest.) I present you with Luke Abbot (from Void), the first time Coral sees him in shop class.

Yeah...he's hawt. I think he's one of my most blatantly hot characters in all my books—football QB, half Latino, rides motorcycles, loves science, and full of secrets. But he's no bad boy, nuh uh. And he hates being popular, actually—totally ditches the pep rallies to avoid attention. He's the kind of guy who just wants to do what he likes without people making a big deal out of it. He's just...a boy. And that's why I love him.

*Sigh*

Also, below are the questions people asked about my drawing habits. I thought today would be a good day, what with the drawing theme and all. Thanks again for all the fabulous questions!

Dara asked: When did you start drawing? I really like your artwork and I'm deeply jealous that I cannot draw my characters :)
It’s one of those things I’ve done forever. In fact, I was more serious about drawing than writing for a long time. In high school, I wanted to be an artist for video games or manga. But once I got to college and learned how competitive the programs were, I realized I really didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on my drawing. So a hobby it remains.

Has drawing helped inspire you in your writing?
Not directly. I actually think it’s the other way around—my writing has inspired a lot of my drawing. But I think being into anime has influenced my work. My friend Michelle said just yesterday that she could see my stuff as manga/anime easily. I grew up with that format, so I know that whether I’m trying or not there will be some influence.

Frank asked: How often do you draw?
I draw at least once every week for my Saturday Sketch. Sometimes more.

When did you first start drawing your own characters?
I started drawing my own characters very early on, around thirteen. I’m not much of a copier—I like to be original. So I’d look at Sailor Moon stuff, but I didn’t spend a lot of time drawing her. I’d modify what I saw and make it my own.

Do you only draw in manga style? Why or why not?
Yes, for the most part. I’ve been exposed to all the classical art forms, but I’ve always had strengths in cartooning and pencil. I like to stick with what I’m good at. When I try to draw realistically, I only remember how bad I am at it. Paint brushes and me…we don’t get along. When I paint, I paint with my fingers. I feel like I have no control over a brush.

Do you have a favorite graphic novel?
Hmm, I don’t think I could pick just one. I grew up on Sailor Moon, Fushigi Yuugi, Magic Knight Rayearth, Utena, Dragonball, Evangaleon, Escaflowne, Ranma ½, etc. I’m just getting back into more current manga, and really enjoying Full Metal Alchemist and Avatar.

Emotional Abuse

I'm taking a little break from the Q&A to talk about something very important to me. Something I've been afraid to talk about for a long time because it's in no way fun or even nice. It's also very personal, but I've decided that I should put myself out there if it helps raise awareness about this issue. If you want definitions, I found this page helpful.

I've been in exactly 2 serious relationships. One turned out amazingly well—Nick, my husband, is the most wonderful man on the planet. He is good and caring and so supportive of me and my crazy dreams. I love him forever for letting me be myself.

The other relationship wasn't so great. Even now, I feel shame over saying it out loud, even though I know it's wrong to feel that way. I was in an emotionally abusive relationship. Me—yes, me. I pride myself on being strong and independent, but somehow that guy tore me to pieces.

People often overlook emotional abuse—no one is getting hit or raped. But I can assure you that emotional abuse is just as damaging. I still haven't fully recovered, though it's been 6 years. It took me almost a year to realize that it wasn't my fault, that leaving him wasn't my own weakness or me abandoning him, but the right thing to do. And there are still things I can't do without getting serious panic attacks, like learning to drive a manual car.

Below is a short story I wrote about that experience. I hope it gives you a feel for what emotional abuse is, because it is a subtle, clever thing. My abuser would have never hit me—he knew I'd leave if he did that. So he used my own caring nature against me, hinting just enough at bad things to keep me afraid and trapped. Thankfully, a few good friends convinced me to get out before I married him. I hate thinking how it would have degenerated if I did.

Driving Lessons
by Natalie Whipple

He’s glaring. His glare is never a good thing, but today it’s laced with something new. Something scarier. I look down, my stomach twists so tight it’s a miracle I don’t throw up. I used to think that was butterflies, but now I know it’s terror.

“You’re going to learn. Right. Now.” His voice is as commanding as his gaze.

I bite my lip, praying he can’t see how much I’m shaking. It’ll hurt his feelings if notices how much he terrifies me, and I have no idea what he’ll do then. He’s told me stories—punching his hand through a wall, throwing someone into a window, an attempted suicide—and I don’t want to be added to the list.

“Natalie, switch seats with me. Now.”

“I-I don’t want to.” I sound so small, helpless. I vaguely remember a time when people said I was the most independent, fiery girl they knew. She’s gone. I don’t know if she was ever there to begin with.

“I don’t care. We’re not leaving until you learn. You don’t have a choice.”

My hand clenches the car door handle. No choice? That can’t be. I muster all my courage—how dare he say I can’t choose. “I’ll just walk home.”

I start to pull the handle, and he grabs my arm. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s tight enough to tell me that he’s angry now. I stare at him. My heart beats up my throat. I can’t form words. He hasn’t let go.

“You are not walking home. I would never let you walk that far alone—it’s not safe.” The glare is now a scowl, the commanding voice now saturated with possession. My eyes water. “You are driving this car. Do you understand?”

I gulp down my protests. Why, oh why, did I have to tell him I didn’t know how to drive stick? I look out at the abandoned parking lot, the abandoned fields around it, the abandoned road. We’re alone. Not too far from home, but utterly alone. No one would hear me scream. Cell phones don’t seem so evil anymore; too bad I don’t have one.

“Fine.” I whisper, forcing the tears to stay put.

He releases my arm. “Don’t you dare think about running.”

I nod because I can’t outrun him. Why in the world did I think he’d let me walk home in the first place? He’s right; it’s not exactly safe. But neither is this.

We switch seats. This is my first time behind the wheel of a manual car, and suddenly I pray it’ll be my last. His tone is patronizing as he explains how everything works. It bothers me, but I don’t dare point it out. “Okay, turn on the car.”

I sit there, frozen. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to. Idon’twantto. Am I crying? Crap. I can’t be crying over this stupid car. But suddenly it feels like a battle of wills, and I’ve never been on the losing end before. “I don’t want to.”

He bangs the dashboard; I jump. “Stop being such a baby. It’s just driving. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

But it's not just driving, not anymore. It’s everything about our relationship stuffed into one little micromoment. As stuck as I am in that parking lot, I’m even more trapped by him. I don’t know how this happened. All I know is that I’m terrified and I can’t get out.

So I start the car, and he smiles that smile I first fell for.

To my utter disappointment, I easily shift the gear to first. Maybe under other circumstances I’d be proud, but now I’ve only proved his point. His smile turns smug, and he kisses my cheek. “Now was that so hard?”

I shake my head, even though it was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.

More Answers

Hey! Long time no see! Okay, it's only been a day. Still. It feels like I've been gone forever, since I was reading this incredible book that swept me away to a city I've always wanted to see—to just BE in: Paris. Sigh. It was fantastic. Superb!

On today's menu: A bunch of questions about me. Once again, if you don't see your question, don't fret! I will answer every single one of them—some with whole posts all for themselves.

Renee asked: Which of your books would you most love to see as a movie?
Actually, I’m going to be honest and say I don’t really have the desire to see any of my books as movies. Sure, it would be fun, but it would also be…weird.

I have a very clear picture of what my characters look like, and I think that the people who’ve read my books have their own vision of that. When a movie comes out, suddenly your character becomes the actor who plays them—whether you want it or not. No matter what I do, I can’t get Daniel Radcliff out of my head when I think of Harry Potter now. And even though Robert Pattinson is nothing like I saw Edward, there he is in my brain when I think of the book.

I’m not really a fan of this.

Also, movies are fun, but books are better. I’m not a huge movie buff; I have a hard time justifying sitting around for two hours when I could be talking or writing or drawing or whatever else I like to do. So I’m not opposed to my books as movies, just not dreaming of it happening.

Liam asked: Seeing as Kiersten is so short, how does she hurt you if/when you call Snow Patrol crap? Because it most certainly is not.
Well, first of all, I would never say Snow Patrol is crap. Because I love SP and I’m totally jealous that she’s seeing them in concert.

Also, Kiersten is my best friend—like my for reals Best Friend. She would never intentionally hurt me. She even tries her best to make sure she never unintentionally hurts me.

That said, her height has nothing to do with how she could hurt me. All she’d have to do is stop being my friend, which she would never do, but it’s that simple. I’d never recover.

Mariah Irvin asked: How much do you like the color pink?
Hmm, I would have to say that pink is one of my least favorite colors. I don’t hate pink—I don’t hate any colors. I love colors! There are just a lot of colors I like much more than pink.

A couple reasons:
1. I’ve never been a really girly girl—at least when I was young I didn’t want to be. And wearing pink meant I was girly. Not good for my rep, since I was so tough the boys called me Wolverine. (Or at least I thought I was that tough.)

2. It looks BAD on me. I have pink, pale skin. So pastel pink makes me kind of look like I’m wearing, uh, nothing. Either that or it washes me out. It’s just bad. And then the hot pink spectrum always had a way of bringing out my zits. Gosh…just, trauma. Every picture I have of me in pink I hate. Example:

It looks a little white, but I promise it's pale pink. Wash out! And no, I do not want to talk about my hair (worst. haircut. EVER!).

But my little girl looks adorable in pink.

What's your favorite dessert?
Ooo, I love all desserts, but right now I’m really digging fruit-filled stuff. Like strudels and tarts. My mom made this incredible raspberry strudel thing a couple weeks back and I can’t stop thinking about it. I could have eaten it all, though it was bigger than my head.

In general though, I love chocolate stuff like brownies and cake. I’ve just burned out on that recently.

Jade asked: If you can spend one day inside a book of your choice (not your own—sorry to be mean!), which one would it be and what things would you get up to?
I’m going to have to go with Narnia today. The Chronicles were my first love in fantasy, and I’d love to see that world, walk through the forests. I think the major sights being Cair Paravel, the Dawn Treader, and meeting Aslan and Reepicheep.

Frank asked: Are you completely opposed to the idea of devoting a whole week to your passionate obsession with Owl City?
Not opposed. I would have no problem gushing about them. I’m just pretty sure other people would get bored fast. And even though this blog is all about me, I do like the think about what my little group of readers would like to see.

But okay, ONE song.


Michelle asked: What's the most annoying toy your kids have ever had. And did you throw it away? :)
Hands downs—that awful, noisy popper vacuum thing. And I was stupid enough to take it for FREE. My sister-in-law didn't want it in her house anymore. Go figure. You know the one:

The demon toy. I get tense just looking at a picture.

Your kid pushes it; it makes this loud popping sound. I have sensitive ears. Since having baby #2, they haven’t stopped ringing (yes, I know I need to get that checked out, but when does a mom have time to see a doctor?). Anyway, I swear I’m losing my hearing.

And yet I haven’t thrown that darn thing out yet! I should. I have put it up and away though. Sometimes I feel guilty and take it down, because the kids love it so much. But five minutes into the popping and I lose it. Then I have to listen to them cry when I take it away. Also not good for my hearing.

In Which I Survive The Apocalypse...Several Times

This is why I love my readers—creative questions for Q&A. You also seem to think I really am supernatural in some way. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. (I AM about to hit 40k in Spork—so the cyborg thing is still up for debate.)

Below, some of you have put my ninja cyborg skills to the test.

CKHB asked: If you were a ninja dragon armed only with an invisible spork, how would you defend yourself from cybernetic zombies?
Easy—my fire breath and acid venom. They wouldn't stand a chance!

Sara asked: It's a zombie apocalypse. You are trapped in a school cafeteria. Zombies are pounding down the door. There are only chairs, tables, salt and pepper shakers, and an assortment of dulled silverware at your disposal. How do you survive the oncoming assault of undead? Oh, and there may or may not be a pop machine, depending on how wealthy the school. Your choice.
Well, first off, I went to a rich school, so I'm going to use my own cafeteria as a mental picture. Soda machines are go.

Maybe I don't know enough about zombies, but it seems to me that the people in the movies go about the zombie apocalypse all wrong. I mean, hello, they're zombies—they don't talk, they can't have much way of senses, and they limp. Once you get past the gore, are they really that threatening?

I wouldn't fight at all. As Tosh always says, sometimes moving with an enemy is better than fighting against them.

I'd get some of that nasty black oil/goo from the back of the soda machine, rub it under my eyes and such. Then I'd rip up my clothes, mess up my hair, stuff one of my arms in my shirt, and get a good limp going. Then when the zombies busted down the door, I'd just join in the moaning and groaning fest. Like they'd know the difference.

It's a vampire apocalypse. Same question as above, only insert "vampire" for "zombie."
This one is all about distraction tactics. Vampires, unlike zombies, have ultra senses. You gotta throw a lot of things at them at once to knock them out of the game.

Back to the soda machine—I'd get out all the red drinks, crack them open and pour them all over the floor. All that red liquid is bound to attract some attention. I'd pocket the pepper shakers for a little blinding powder just in case. Because I'm tough like that, I'd slice my arm open with a spork and smear blood around so they can't quite tell where I'm at immediately. And then I'd get a spark going from a socket to light some trash and start a fire with the wood tables and such.

When the vamps came in, they'd be dazzled by the red, maybe even slip and slide in it. They would be freaked out by the fire, causing several to get trampled. And they would be confused about where my scent was, so I could then sneak out and shut the door behind me. Fire eats them. I win.

It's a ninja apocalypse. Same question, only insert "ninja" for "vampire" and now insert "assault of...um...where'd they go?" for "assault of undead."
Well, that wouldn't be a problem at all. I'd just do the secret handshake and they'd let me join in the fun.

Novice Writer Anonymous asked: OK, it's high school prom. A group of ninjas-in-hiding are off in one corner, a group of sparkly vampires is in another (disco ball causing the sparkles at this instant), and a group of Van Helsings are in another. The Van Helsings are out to kill the vampires, but the ninjas are there to protect all students from harm, regardless of their nature.

Do you distract the ninjas so the Van Helsings can slay the vamps, join the ninjas in fighting them, or join the Van Helsings in their goal?
Really, you should all know the answer to this question. I wouldn't be at Prom—Prom is LAME. My Senior Prom, in particular, was uber lame. We got there late, and the guy I went with danced the last (and only song we were there for) dance with the girl he really wanted to take but couldn't because someone asked her first. It's complicated.

Suffice it to say, I don't care what awesome creature/person is at Prom—they can all attack each other if they want to spend their time at a lame school dance. Rawr.

Wait, that wasn't the answer you were expecting? Huh.

Thanks for testing my survival skills. I feel better prepared for these situations now.

First Paragraphs!

My agent Nathan is holding his sorta-annual Stupendously Ultimate First Paragraph Contest! If you haven't already, go over and enter. It's such a blast—and a great learning experience. There's also that whole possibility of winning, which can turn out pretty well.

In honor of this contest, I thought I'd go out on a limb and share all of my first paragraphs. All of them. I wanted to talk about why some of them aren't as strong as others, and maybe what makes an impact in the first paragraph. Please don't think I'm saying I'm awesome, because as you'll see I'm very not. But I do think beginnings are a strong point for me. Middles? Not so much.

Guys, this is the first time you'll be seeing some of my earliest, most embarrassing work. Reading over these has been quite a mortifying blast to the past. But if there's one thing I believe, it's that practice makes perfect. I am no prodigy writer—I work hard. And fail a lot.

So, without further ado...

My very, very first full length novel: Sevene
Sevene Keys didn’t think that her sixteenth birthday would be any different from the others. Her mom would make her double chocolate cake. Her best friend, Kora Stevens, would buy her a drawing pad. And no one at school would remember it was her special day. Sevene was, with her baggy uniform, unkempt hair, and shy demeanor, a nerd. Most of the students at The Academy took no notice of her. Her artistic scholarship, not her intelligence, was the only thing keeping her at the prestigious school. But that chilly October morning was different. When Sevene got up she felt like something had changed, and when she looked in the mirror she knew exactly what.

INFO DUMP. Gosh, this is mortifying. I hope I don't have to explain in detail why this paragraph fails. Sure, it has potential, but I need to cut this thing in half to make it viable. What I've learned since my early days—readers like a little mystery.

#2 The Zombies (last titled Static):
I died in a car, and that’s all I remember about being alive. It isn’t a long memory at all, only a short snippet of snow falling on my windshield and a wall of pine trees on either side of me. I was angry, and definitely crying. Then the road turned, and my car didn’t follow it.

This isn't as bad, but it's also not the first version that I sent out to agents. It's a tad "flat." I could have pushed this further with the emotions instead of just stating them. At least in this attempt I managed to establish a key point about the book—my MC is dead and she has no memories.

#3 Allure:
Keira couldn’t take her eyes off the girl’s emerald bracelet. She was supposed to be listening to the teacher’s lecture, but the glimmering gems just inches away smelled alluring, like fresh mint. She shouldn’t be happy about the Greed growing inside her, but she was. Her transformation had officially begun.

Here it seems I'm grasping the whole "introduce an intriguing concept thing," but the rhythm is off, isn't it? It also feels too transparent to me. I could leave the transformation stuff for later. Gah, it took me a very long time to kick the info dump habit.

#4 Void:
I knew the exam by heart—not that it would help me pass. My parents made me take it every year, and every year it was the same result. I didn’t know why anyone expected anything different. They still hoped I was a late bloomer. Deep down inside, I knew I wouldn’t be blooming at all.

I really like this one, mostly because it introduces the core conflict right off the bat. I think Coral's voice comes out strong as well. I would have entered it in the contest last year—except it didn't exist then. Void originally started with dialogue...I don't recommend that.

#5 Evergreen:
Lily Martel listened to music with the volume maxed. Not only because it sounded better that way, but because it forced out all the other sounds she didn’t want to hear. If she was allowed, she was listening.

I've always really liked this paragraph, but I'm not sure why. I think maybe because it says a lot about Lily—and it also hints at problems without being so obvious (yay! I'm learning subtlety!). It's easy, for me, to picture what kind of girl she is just from this.

#6 Sealed:
The lighting was always perfect in the afternoon. As the sun’s sharp angle brought depth to the rich foliage, Adrienne sketched feverishly with her pencil. Today was a lucky day—a fawn and its mother stood not twenty yards away in a dewy clearing. They hadn’t seen her yet; she could capture them if she worked fast enough.

This one I don't feel is spectacular—it's really the first 2 paragraphs of Sealed that create the full mood. It's...okay. It's all about mood, and the first time I really played with setting in a first paragraph. At least I had the sense to give that setting purpose.

#7 Ninjas:
According to my father, the first rule of ninjutsu is KISS: keep it simple, stupid. Of course, he says it all ninja-like, but that’s the gist. If you can walk down the street in normal clothes, there’s no need for black garb. If you can finish a dude in two moves, don’t waste your time with three. That’s why we run a karate school—two ninjas hiding in the most obvious place.

This is the cleaned up version of the paragraph from last year. Looking back, I'm kind of embarrassed at the original entry! Funny how that works. This one is all about voice + concept, and I am very happy with how it works.

#8 Hammered:
Not many people came to the beach anymore—too much history. That’s exactly why I liked it. The past fascinated me because it never changed. For me, that was a big deal. When I looked out over the ocean, what used to be California, I felt anchored. And if I’d known my whole life would change that day, I would have never gone home.

Here's another "setting" one, but this setting is a little shocking and that's why I decided to open with that. California—under the ocean. The whole world of this book is based on that one fact. It should be at the forefront. You also get a sense of how Danie feels about it. Not bad...might still need a little work.

#9 Transparent:
The second I was born, I almost died. Doctor dropped me. It’s not his fault though. When I smacked the floor and let out a screeching cry, all anyone could see was the semi-transparent umbilical cord, taut and bloody. Poor guy scooped me up, grasping at my invisible body in shock. They guessed I came out breech, because my spine was fractured and the bruising to my head wasn’t enough to kill me.

This is my first real dive into a shocking visual. I think a lot of times writers assume this is the kind of first paragraph you have to have to hook someone. Sure, it's definitely hooky. But it also runs the risk of becoming gimicky. I only used it here because this event drives the entire novel.

#10 Death Calls:
Even in the summer, the graveyard retains a thin layer of fog in the morning. It always gathers within the walls where the Dead live. Honestly, it’s eerie, but I don’t mind. They deserve a little privacy, all crammed together like that. It’s like a curtain that gives each resident personal space.

This is from a very new WIP, so I'm not sure how I feel about it. I know it's a straight setting paragraph, but I think the way Charlotte describes the cemetery is unique. And since her whole family save one is buried there, it feels right. For now.

#11 Spork:
My brother was crazy. If we didn’t have the same dark hair, purple eyes, and tan skin, I would pawn him off as a very distant cousin. Maybe an orphan my parents took in. Anything but my older brother. He was supposed to be the responsible one, not the one dreaming of far off lands and impossible fairy tales.

And finally, I'm branching out into a new first paragraph realm. Not setting. Not concept. Not mood. But a central relationship. I wasn't sure about it at first, but on second glance I like it. The whole book is about these brothers. And Gil's voice comes out of the gate strong.

Reading through all these, I feel like the strongest ones are the ones that capture the book right off. They give the reader a good idea of what they can expect of the MC and their story. And while I don't think it's mandatory to do that in one paragraph, it can't hurt, right?