What I Learned From Reading

It's the last day of November! My month of reading is nearly gone, and I've been thinking a lot about what I've gained from soaking in other people's stories. I've learned a lot, I think, both about life and writing. So it's Sharing Time!

1. Own Your Style. There are so many out there—and they all work! Of course, there will be people who don't resonate with your style, but that's okay. There will also be people who love it passionately.

2. I'm never eating a Krispie Kreame again. If you've read Into the Wild Nerd Yonder, you understand why.

3. I really enjoy contemporary fiction! I'd never really gotten into it before, but I sure have a craving for it now.

4. Variety ROCKS. I read all YA books this month, but every single one was unique and cool. I love that all these books are allowed to live on the same shelf. I'm not a one-genre-only kind of reader.

5. I can read faster if I want to.

6. Reading so much has made me a faster reader, which is nice.

7. I'd rather read than watch TV, considering getting rid of cable.

8. When I cut out writing and watching TV, there's A LOT more time in the day than I realized.

9. Even with all the extra time, I still can't convince myself to fold laundry.

10. Reading and biking at the same time works very well, but I'd still rather read on the couch.

11. Clichés can work—and work really well if you change up other aspects of the story.

12. There are books out there where the nice guys finish first—they are my favorite ones, too.

13. Sometimes all you need is a bottle of shampoo (you'll get that if you read My Fair Godmother).

14. Parents, even when they try, don't know everything about their teens.

15. Tags don't annoy me as much in other people's writing as they do in my own.

16. Nor does "suddenly."

17. I'm willing to forgive just about everything if I really love the story/character.

18. I don't like angsty stories as much as I like fun/funny or adventurous ones (hmm, maybe that's why I write them...). Angst makes me tired and cranky.

19. Big brothers are just as cool as I always imagined them to be. Why do I have to be the oldest?

20. I could maybe possibly belong with these writers. I don't feel like I'm above or below them.

21. More people should read, and I'm going to figure out how to make it "cool" so they will.

22. I like books that are about 200-300 pages. Longer ones make me grow a tad impatient unless they are really, really good and every word is necessary.

23. I'm really, really glad I live in this century.

24. Not writing at all still makes me cranky.

25. Stories, in whatever form, make life bearable.

Okay, I'd better stop on that nice odd number. I had so much fun reading this month I might make this my yearly tradition.

What I'm Reading: Week 4

So I have less than 200 pages left between me and my goal of 12 books for November. I will definitely finish by the end of tomorrow! Yay! How are the NaNo people doing? I hope well. I've seen several "I'm Finished!" announcements lately. Congratulations to all of you!

This week in reading has been lovely, though I must admit I'm getting a little burnt out. I don't think I've ever read so much in so little time. I usually read a book in about 5 or more days, but this month had to average about 2.5 days per book to stay on track. (I know that looks wussy to you power readers who can devour a novel in a few hours. Thhbbpt.) It wasn't easy, but I'm happy I did it. I learned a lot, and I will likely post about that tomorrow.

This week began with Suite Scarlett by Maureen Johnson. In short, I pretty much loved it. Okay, adored it. I read it slower than I should have because I just didn't want it to end. And there was theater! That was great for my own research purposes.

It's the story of Scarlett Martin, a young New Yorker who isn't rich, even though she lives in an old hotel her family owns. All her friends are gone to exotic places this summer, and she alone must work and be utterly boring. But when a rich new guest checks in—one Scarlett somehow becomes in charge of—it appears her summer won't be so boring after all.

I've been meaning to check out Maureen for a long time, since I've only ever heard good things about her writing. She didn't disappoint; that's for sure. Her style is easy on the eyes and full of humor (not laugh-out-loud for me, more like giggle knowingly or smiling at her subtle wit/genius).

What I loved most about the book was the family dynamics. Scarlett has a REAL family! She has two living parents who are actually married and three siblings, some she loves and others not-so-much. Not that the orphan or broken families are bad, but sometimes in YA lit you start to think every teen has a messed up family. It was a nice change.

Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson stole my heart and had me bawling by the end. I was fortunate to win this book from the author, and I'm so glad I did because I don't know if I'd have picked it up otherwise. Now I can tell everyone how awesome it is (as if the Newberry Honor Book medal on the front doesn't say enough).

Seriously, you guys should read this book if you haven't.

Sixteen-year-old Hattie is an orphan who's been shuffled from relative to relative her whole life. All she's ever wanted was a real home of her own. So when her uncle leaves his homestead to her, she picks up everything and heads into the Montana wilderness. It's not an easy life, and in the midst of WWI everything just seems harder. Though odds are slim, Hattie is determined to keep her new home and protect those who've helped her under the big Montana sky.

It's just good, guys. Not only did I feel like I was there with Hattie in 1918 rural Montana (which sounds incredibly, terrifyingly hard), but I felt like I really understood how Americans were affected by WWI. This was published in 2006, and it was quite timely considering what has happened since 9/11. Did you know there was so much anti-German sentiment back then that they called sauerkraut "liberty cabbage"? That doesn't sound familiar at all...

I haven't sought out YA historicals much, but this book totally got me craving them. I'd love to hear recommendations if you have any.

I'm about half way through Maggie Stiefvater's Shiver, and I have to admit I'm kind of on the fence. Sometimes I love the book; sometimes I'm left scratching my head. I'm not sure why. And I don't want my opinion to deter you from reading because I've heard a lot of people say they love it. I'm not even finished, so my opinion isn't fully shaped yet.

It's the story of Grace and Sam. Grace has a strange fascination with the wolves who almost killed her as a child. Sam happens to be one of those wolves, who are actually werewolves. After a wolf attack leaves a very popular, rich boy dead, Grace feels compelled to protect the pack.

I don't know the whole story, obviously, but I do think it's intriguing. The writing is lovely, just lovely. And Grace and Sam's relationship is refreshingly sweet and normal. Yay for normal, wonderful, not-bordering-on-abuse relationships!

For me, I think some of my hesitation comes in the world-building. While the idea is awesome, I just have to wonder, for example, "Why don't they just move somewhere warm?" (You'll get that if you've read it, I don't want to spoil anything.) Some of these qualms, I'm sure, will be answered as I read. At least I hope they are.

The Answers. No, Not To Life, Just Your Questions!

I'm sure a lot of you are gone, and I hope you are sleeping off the turkey coma of yesterday. I imagine many might be off Christmas shopping. Of course, there are probably the sad few who are working. Me? I got up early, cleaned my house, and then made waffles for the lovely Michelle, Kasie, and Renee.

Yeah, I AM a good friend. I try anyway.

I love living at the center of Mormondom—all my friends come to see me! And by "see me," I mean they come to see their extended families. But usually I can snag them for a few hours.

But anyway, I thought I'd answer the questions you asked today, despite the holiday. My husband is working, so it's a normal day for me and my kids (except that the house is WAY cleaner than usual).

Candice: What do you love the very most about writing?
Even with all my struggles this year, my favorite part of writing is still that First Draft. I've come to appreciate editing, and I know I am much better at it now. But there is nothing like figuring out that new sapling story.

For me, it's the closest I can get to going on a real adventure. I can't travel. I can't explore the world like I want to. (Hopefully someday!) But when I sit down to write I feel like I'm somewhere else for a minute—in someone else's life and world and troubles. They make my own seem a little less scary. I love discovering the plot as I go, learning the characters' secrets, finding what it is I want to say.

It's the cheapest vacation out there.

L.T. Elliot: What are your favorite foods?
Wow, what don't I love? I LOVE food. There are very few things I won't eat, and it's mostly because I can't eat them. Like mushrooms—they hurt my stomach. I haven't had the opportunity to try as much as I want (I've never had lobster), but I am willing to try most anything once (though probably not Fear Factor style, as in live bugs and rodents).

I really love spicy foods. Like hot curries, pho, flaming salsa, chili, buffalo wings, and peppers. I pile banana peppers on my hamburgers if I have the chance. The nachos I make are amazing and spicy. I even add a ridiculous amount of Thai chili sauce to my cup o' noodles. Basically, anything that makes my nose run and my eyes water.

Of course, I'm a big fan of Asian foods. I could eat sticky rice everyday. I enjoy sushi, though not all of it. (Mmm, wasabi.) My favorite is the nigiri (rice ball with raw fish on top). I make a lot of stir-fries and even like tofu.

I love to cook and frequently wish I had a huge kitchen. If I could eat all day and not get fat—I would.

Stephanie Perkins: Who would win in a thumb war — you or Kiersten?
Well, that's easy: ME. But it's not that I'm awesome or anything, Kiersten has small hands and I have freakishly long thumbs. It's true. My thumb is as long as my pointer finger! In art class I'd try to draw my hand and it always looked weird. My teacher said I drew my thumb too long, but then she looked at my hand and raised an eyebrow. "Nevermind. You have really long thumbs!" Sad.

When this month is over, what will you write first?
I want to finish Spork first. I'm all ready to go come Tuesday! I reread what I had last week and remembered how much I enjoyed the story. And it's just for fun, so I'm looking forward to being creative again. No pressure. After that, I'm not too sure. I think it might be time to do a hard edit on Void and finish that dang revision of Hammered.

CKHB: Please name a favorite song, and a song you hate.
Well, I love anything by Owl City, as you know. But I love a ton of music and it's so hard to pick just one song! (You can see some of my favorites under my blog's Music label. I used to do music on Sundays.) I'm also a huge fan of Snow Patrol and Keane, both of which have been prominent background soundtracks while writing. You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol was THE song for Sealed. It's one of my favorites of all time:



As for songs I hate...man, I'm having trouble thinking of something that grates on me because I don't usually listen to music I hate. The 90s boy bands drove me nuts though! That one music video with the puppet guys? I don't even remember the song or the group, but I found that very annoying back in the day.

Amber Tidd Murphy: Why don't you follow more blogs?
Honestly, I just don't have time. And having a huge list can be overwhelming when I have to make time for my family, friends, writing, and other responsibilities. I try to keep my blogging activity in check; I could spend all day on here if I didn't.

I do visit a lot of blogs not on the list when I'm bored, but I'm not often bored. And I try to be very active on my own blog. Like if someone asks a question (even not in Q&A), you can expect a pretty speedy answer.

Adam Heine: Have you seen any of the Final Fantasy movies, if so what do you think of them?
I've seen that very first one—the one that wasn't tied to any of the games. I loved it. I thought it had the feel of the games and ended in a very traditional FF way.

I've also seen Advent Children and LOVED that. Sigh. Cloud. Sephiroth. FFVII is and always will be one of the best games of all time, so seeing the characters given better graphics and an awesome post story just ROCKED. It kinda breaks my heart that so many people don't know FFVII's story, because to me it was like a virtual book. A GOOD virtual book. If they redid that game in better graphics, I would buy the system it was on just so I could play it again. Seriously.

Alien invasion. You must save the Earth with (a) an army of giant fighting robots, (b) your clan of ninjas, and (c) a cadre of 2-year-olds. Discuss your methods and the results of each.
Ha, well, I would send the 2-year-olds in first. They would be too cute to kill, so the aliens would ignorantly take them in and try to raise them. Then the 2-year-olds would repeat the same thing over and over again so many times that most of the aliens would KILL THEMSELVES.

The robots and ninjas would just be back up. They could easily pick off any alien who survived the Great Wail of Repetition, since they'd all have lost their minds.

Cat Clarke: if you had to go without reading or listening to music for a year, which one would you choose?
Sadly, reading. I love listening to music while I write, and I could still write! That would be entertainment enough for me. Then I could grab all the books I missed when the year was up.

Fairyhedgehog: What's the reasoning behind taking a month off from writing, when clearly writing it's so good for you (and your readers)?
Well, this month the only reason was to catch up on my to-be-read pile (though last year it was to curb my addiction and this summer it was to help turn off the inner editor). I had a whopping EIGHTEEN books I'd bought and not read. I wanted to read, but I don't when I'm writing. Not because I can't, just because I get distracted with my own work.

I'm on my 11th book of the month right now. It's been great to read so much. I'm hoping I can continue to read a book a week, but we'll see. My WIPs are calling.

Will you be posting any more autobiography on here this month instead of writing fiction? Please?
Perhaps. I do enjoy writing them, but the month is nearly over! That doesn't mean I can't write them occasionally though. I have written several on here (they would be under the My Life label if you care to look).

And that concludes this Q&A session (minus one question that needs a whole post of its own). Hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Here's The Deal

Hey Universe,

I should probably start out with saying sorry for not returning your emails or phone calls. It was immature of me. I should have told you in person that I just wasn't ready to date, especially someone as powerful and famous as you. But I was scared—I told you what I did to poor Brennan. Really, you deserved better. You could date a galaxy if you wanted! I'm just one little spec in comparison. So clearly it wasn't you; it was me.

You're probably not too happy with the ninjas, either. Sorry about that. I swear I'll send a squad to clean up the mess. But what was I supposed to do? My friends deserve good things, and you have to admit you weren't delivering there for a while. I know the economy is bad and you have a lot of demands coming in, but really, you know that talent should be rewarded. My friends have talent in spades. I'm glad that you finally paid up, even if it took some negotiations (Doesn't Kiersten's hair look awesome? Thanks for making her do that).

I know I'm in no position to ask for favors, what with our checkered history. I'm really writing to say that I've misjudged you. I'm sorry for that. I've grown up a lot since the last time we talked. You aren't the terrible Universe everyone makes you out to be. You're just one Universe—and you're doing the best you can.

But I want to offer you a deal—one I'm pretty sure you won't be able to resist. It combines most of my worst nightmares into one event. On top of that, you would probably find it highly entertaining, since you particularly enjoy laughing at me.

You know what I want. If you are having trouble remembering, it starts with a "B" and rhymes with "schmook deal." I know it's a tall order. Really. I do. It's okay if you have to think about it for a while (And by "a while" I don't mean more than 10 years, okay? That's generous and you know it.).

In return, I promise to do the unthinkable—attempt to play basketball. On tape. In skinny jeans. Yes, I will risk circulatory damage to my legs just for you! I promise to post this video online so the whole world can laugh with you, Universe. That's a lot of people, though it might not seem like it to you. It would be the singular most humiliating thing I've ever done, far surpassing that one time I accidentally slammed my own head in my locker (Gosh, that hurt!).

Think about it, will you? You can have your secretary email me back if you're too busy. I understand.

xoxo,
Natalie

I Got Nothin'

I've been trying to think of a post for two days, and still this little box remains empty. I just don't have anything to say, I suppose. At least not stuff that's blog appropriate. I'll admit I've been a little down, but I'm fighting off the blues as best as I know how (with lots of food, family/friends, and napping).

Still, it's not the best environment for creativity. And everything I think to put in this post is either lame, unoriginal, or whiny. I strive to be none of those things.

Since my brain is totally shot (and maybe my heart as well [boo hoo, whine whine]), I'm calling on my awesome blogging friends for help. It's been a while since I've done a Q&A. So if you have questions, please for the sake of my sanity ask.

Also, you may recall my dear friend Kiersten made a rather interesting deal with the Universe. Basically, she promised to get a colored stripe in her hair if she got a book deal. I'm thinking it's about time I make my own offering to the Universe—please leave your suggestions. I'm not opposed to substantial humiliation. It's gonna have to be something pretty big, since the Universe is no fan of mine. Might have something to do with my ninja squad rigging the game so all my friends get what they deserve...or it might have to do with my refusing to date the Universe (he's kinda huge, but don't tell him—he's sensitive). Whatever. I'm sure you guys can come up with something to tempt the Universe.

Bring on the questions and offerings, guys. I'm not scared...yet.

What I'm Reading: Week 3

Dude, can you guys believe Thanksgiving is this week? Crazy. November has just flown by for me. I hope the NaNo peeps are still hanging in there! You're almost there!

So I actually finished all three books on time this week! Yay! I feel so awesome, especially since I really thought it wasn't gonna happen. I had a little snafu; I'll explain. But it was a fun week in reading, that's for sure.

My Fair Godmother by Janette Rallison is, like, the most adorable book I've read this month. It's just CUTE—Disney movie, fuzzy kitten, happily ever after cute.

It's about a girl named Savannah with a not-so-skilled Godmother, who botches up all her wishes. Savannah ends up in the Middles Ages a few times, where it is so not like the fairy tales say. And on top of that, she accidentally sends a cute boy back there and she's the only one who can help him return.

It's funny, too. Seriously, half the book I was going, "How is Rallison pulling this off? *snarf* It's ridiculous! *giggle* It should be cliché! But it WORKS!" So props to Janette, because at first I wasn't so convinced, but then I'd get to the end of a chapter and be like, "Oh, just one more."

I read the book in a day and a half.

I really ended up loving it much more than I expected. I'm still giggling over things from the book, but I won't ruin it for you. If you're looking for a fun, sparkly, adventurous read, this book would totally fill that need.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman has been on my list for a long time. I haven't even seen the movie because I wanted to read it first. I'm glad I waited so I could use my own imagination on the cool visuals Gaiman presented. I loved that about The Graveyard Book as well—spectacular, original worlds. Sigh. Good stuff.

If you haven't read it yet (there might be a few out there), it's about a bored little girl who likes to explore. She ends up finding an alternate dimension of her own house run by a not-so-nice creature. She has to save her parents in order to return home.

Coraline totally straddles the line between MG/YA, so I think it'd be a good book for tweens. It reads so fast, has a creep factor without getting too scary, and is wonderfully imaginative. I really couldn't stop reading it, so I finished it in one day.

***

I devoured my first two books of the week, as you can see. This got me really excited because I had time to tackle a fatty one I've been wanting to read.

Well, then I started rereading my WIP Spork to get ready for writing in December. I got really into that because I'd forgotten just how much I like this story! This is a very good thing, since I've had my doubts about Gil and Adair. But they're awesome, and I can't wait to finish.

Even though I did get distracted from my reading, I made sure to pick up that fat book...but it didn't go well. I'm having trouble suspending my disbelief. It happens sometimes. I'm not sure why, since I write fantasy myself. I knew there was no way I was going to finish it this week. I will finish; it's just going to take more time than I thought.

So I picked up Wake by Lisa McMann instead. And I read it really fast (most of it today, minus 50 pages or so) because it was one crazy little book! I really liked it, so much that I kind of want to hunt down the sequel right now.

It's the story of Janie, a girl who slips into other people's dreams. She doesn't have an easy life, what with the constant lack of sleep, her alcoholic mother, and a full time job. Finally she decides other people's dreams aren't going to rule her life, so she tries to figure out how to control her abilities.

The writing style of this book is...different. I would say choppy. It took me a little to get used to it, but I think it really works with the subject matter. It almost mirrors the exhausting pace of Janie's life, and it makes for quick reading.

It's a gritty book, what with Janie's rough life and the constant view of personal, violent, or steamy dreams. So where Coraline is more like MG/YA, I'd say Wake is for the older YA or those who are cool with that very urban, gritty feel.

Okay, one more week of reading! I've made a lovely dent in the to-be-read pile, I must say. It feels good.

Saturday Sketch

I used to draw a lot of people with wings, but I haven't for a while. I was in the mood. This isn't anyone in particular, but she's pretty, no?

Alrighty, that's all I got to say today. My auntie is going back to New Zealand tomorrow so I'm gonna hang out with her. Have a lovely weekend.

Another Story

I had so much fun writing that story on Monday that I couldn't resist doing another one today. And seriously, it's like my brain is refusing to come up with blog topics. This always happens when I do too many useful posts in a row—I can only maintain looking smart and helpful for so long!

This happened during elementary school, but I'm not exactly sure how old I was. I'm going to say I wasn't older than 9, but I could have been as young as 7.

My First Kiss
I didn't really get girls when I was younger. The dresses. The talking. The drama. And even then they liked boys—they wanted to kiss boys. Sick. At recess all they'd talk about was which boy was cutest and how they could get a boyfriend.

I had better things to do—like beating all the boys at tag. I was the fastest girl on the playground, a reputation I was determined to keep. No one could catch me. It drove the boys crazy that they hadn't beaten a girl at their own game, so tag was quickly becoming "try to catch Natalie all recess without even giving her a break at the drinking fountain."

Still, I liked to run, so I played. And I kept winning so that was even better.

Then one day the girls came over.

"Can we play?" Jenny asked Michael as we were figuring out who was going to be It first. I didn't like this. The girls smiled too widely, some playing with their hair and giggling. They had a plan.

I folded my arms. "Why? Wouldn't you rather jump rope?"

Jenny glared at me. "Tag looks like fun today."

"Sure, you can play," Michael said. "But you have to be It."

I smiled. Boys were cool like that, always giving the scrubs a hard time. It made sense, since they were trying to get in on our fun. They should have to earn their place.

"Fine." Jenny smiled, but then out of nowhere she tapped Michael's shoulders and yelled, "You're It!" Then everyone scattered.

I was mad; girls never played fair. The boys usually counted to ten first, so that everyone could spread out and get some running in. Then the runners would taunt It by coming closer or heckling. But now Jenny had taken things over and done it her way.

It got worse from there. No one tried to tag me. The boys went for the easy prey—the new girls. And those stupid girls let the boys tag them! They'd giggle and hold on to the boys for a second. Then, horror of horrors, Jenny KISSED Michael right on the lips! So. Gross. That's when I realized Jenny's plan, and that's also when my fun games of recess tag became stupid kissing tag.

I was not pleased.

But at least the boys still couldn't catch me, and after a while they got tired of the girls they could catch. They weren't a challenge anymore, and kissing got boring, since it was so icky to begin with. Now I was the only girl who'd never been caught OR kissed. I was like a freaking magic unicorn! And I had a whole horde of hunters after me, even some of the older boys had joined in the chase.

Jenny was not pleased.

But I was having the time of my life. I was the fastest, smartest girl on the playground. I was even faster than the boys. Smarter than the boys. Which meant I was better than the boys. And that meant I was better than everyone. It was a good feeling. I didn't care when the girls called me names because they were nothing to me.

I had hiding places if I wanted a break from the running. The girl's bathroom, a bush by the kindergarten playground, and the library. Of course, no one would sit with me because all the girls were mad at me for ruining kissing tag and all the boys were still trying to catch me.

It went on forever, and finally I got bored. And lonely. I didn't want to run anymore. I was tired of being chased everyday. I wanted to play on the bars. Or maybe even try out that jump roping thing. Tag just wasn't fun anymore.

"I'm not playing," I said one day. The boys looked at me like I was crazy.

"C'mon, we still have to catch you. You can't stop now. That's not fair," Brain said. He was one of the older boys. He lived in my neighborhood and was already well on his way to juvenile delinquency. I hated Brian, but he played with the boys and so did I. Sometimes you just can't avoid people you hate.

I folded my arms. "I'm done. You guys can't catch me anyway."

Brian scowled, then tapped my shoulder. "There. Caught you—you're It."

"I said I wasn't playing! We didn't even start!"

"You're It!" He stood close to my face, but I didn't back up. So what if he was taller and older?

"I am not! I'm not playing!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

This went on for several minutes, neither of us budging. He kept tapping my shoulder saying I was It, but I stayed put. I was officially sick of tag and no one could make me play.

"Brian, I'm NOT playing! So you'll just have to get over it!" I stomped my foot on the pavement. "That's final."

But then I did the dumbest thing possible—I folded my arms and closed my eyes. I don't know why I closed my eyes; I was smarter than that. Maybe I was just so tired of running that I wasn't thinking straight anymore. I wanted to block it all out, and my eyes just did it for me. I'd let my guard down without realizing it.

Brian grabbed my face and kissed me.

My eyes popped back open as boy laughter filled my ears. They were all laughing, and it hurt deep inside my bones. They weren't my friends. They would have defended me if they were friends. I was just some prize, and finally Brian had won it. He caught me. What was worse is that I just stood there and let myself get caught, just like the other stupid girls.

I balled my fists, refusing to let tears come out. Tears were weak, and even in the face of all that laughing I was not weak. They would not get the best of me—and I would never be so dumb again. I would never let my guard down ever, and anyone who tried to get in would pay. Brian would pay.

I slapped him across the face. The laughter stopped.

"Don't you ever touch me again!" I punched him in the stomach, and he made that ever-satisfying oomphh sound.

He didn't even try to hit me back, though part of me wanted him to so I could hit him more. And if he started a fight, it would prove I was one of them. But he didn't move; I was a girl after all. He just stared, speechless for a while. And then he smiled. "I like the feisty ones."

He tried to kiss me again, but I kicked him and ran for the girls' bathroom. Of course he couldn't catch me. As I waited out my shaking, I realized I was alone. I wasn't one of the guys, and I definitely wasn't one of the girls. I didn't belong anywhere.

I stayed in class and did homework during recess for a while, just to avoid people. Everyone knew Brian had kissed me, and everyone knew I hit him for it. But I didn't get in trouble because no boy will ever tell the teachers he got beat by a girl.

When I did go out to recess, the boys heckled me, but I was fast enough to catch them and dig my nails into their scrawny boy arms. That's when they started calling me Wolverine. And I was proud of that. After a few scuffles, they finally stopped bothering me. I bottled up all the isolation and vulnerability I felt and channeled it into anger and indifference. But I was safe—nothing could hurt me like those boys laughs had.

My first kiss transformed me into a bully.

Encouraging Teens To Read

I have to admit I'm a little out of sorts today. See, I was supposed to be going somewhere this weekend...but then things went awry and I'm not. I'm bummed; there's no way around it.

I said I'd answer that whole "how do you encourage teens to read?" thing, but I just don't have enough brain power. And like I could answer that question anyway! I'm pretty sure it's different for everyone.

So I'd like to open up the thread for discussion. How have you encouraged teens you know to read? What encouraged you as a teen?

I'll be hanging out in comments, telling you all how smart you are.

How To Make A Teen Hate Reading

So I mentioned yesterday that I had issues with The Great Gatsby. And I think I should explain myself lest I get disowned by certain people I happen to like very much. As I was thinking about my extreme dislike of the book, I discovered none of the reasons had to do with the actual story. It was all about how this book was presented to me as a teen.

Basically, this teacher—I'll call her Ms. Smith to be nice—MADE me hate The Great Gatsby. No, I'm serious. She did absolutely everything in her power to make it my single worst experience in an English class.

It's already hard enough to get a teen exited about reading when they HAVE TO read a book. The second you tell a teen they HAVE TO do something, it's now the last thing on the planet they want to do. I think it's the hormones, because even "good" teens fall prey to the You-Can't-Make-Me disease. I mean, heaven forbid they enjoy something that's forced on them. Must. Rebel.

Sometimes I wonder how much teens would read if we banned every book on the planet. Could you imagine? "Hey, Teen, don't you dare read books! Filthy things. They're evil!" There'd be book black markets and it'd be a multi-billion dollar industry.

Teens would be all, "Hey, I got my hands on Moby Dick, almost had to trade my kidney for it."

"Dude, you're hard core."

"I know, right? My parents have no clue how addicted I am to the written word. They'd be pissed."

"Sweet."

Wow...getting side-tracked, sorry. That's a YA dystopian waiting to happen!

So before she even started, Ms. Smith already had one strike against her. She'd already taken the First Step in How To Make A Teen Hate Reading:

Force Them.

But she didn't stop there, oh no, that would have been too easy. I mean, I probably could have gotten into the book. It wasn't even that long. I thought the 1920s were cool. Calvin Coolidge was that awesomely introverted president. I was a big fan of jazz. Flappers were cute and stuff. I should have been primed to change my mind!

Then the first day of The Great Gastby unit came, and Ms. Smith walked into class wearing a black flapper dress. We all stared at her, wondering if she'd gone mad. I mean, she did talk to us like we were five and not sixteen. Maybe we shouldn't have been surprised. We didn't know her well, since she was the new replacement for our teacher who'd left for a fancy tech job.

"Welcome to the Roaring 20s!" she yelled. And then, because the dress wasn't enough, she turned on some music and started doing the Charleston. I had to hide my face I was so embarrassed for her.

It didn't end there—she made us do the Charleston, too. Yes, she forced a bunch of shy, honors English sixteen-year-olds to do the Charleston. That's all we did in class that day. By the time the bell rang, I was determined to hate The Great Gatsby no matter what.

In one period, Ms. Smith had taken—in the most extreme way possible—the Second Step of How To Make A Teen Hate Reading:

Over-exuberance.

The First Step is bad, but combined with the Second Step it's almost impossible to overcome. If an ADULT gets that excited about a book, then it must be the furthest thing from cool possible. Sure, over-exuberance might work on eight-year-olds, but there are few things that will make a teen bolt the other direction faster than telling them how awesome it is and how much they should like it. Again, the rebel factor.

You'd think Ms. Smith couldn't do more, but you'd be wrong. The book is under 200 pages, right? Well, for this little book she assigned us a 20-page portfolio to complete. Not only did we have to write a paper about the book, but we had to choose a subject from the 1920s and write about THAT too. And then we had to make a mosaic. Oh, and write poems. And of course make sure it was all sourced and cited properly.

Because that wasn't enough work, she also made us group up, write a 20s radio show, record it, and then play it for the class. Yeah, it was embarrassing, especially since half my group was on Orchestra tours until the day before it was due...and she just said "deal with it."

Thus, Ms. Smith took the grievous Third Step in How To Make A Teen Hate Reading:

Too Much Work.

I was an honors student and I knew that was freaking overkill. I mean, really. I had maybe one 20-pager in college. A portfolio AND a radio show? Sheesh. But like a good little honors student I did all my work. I researched jazz and the early days of Louis Armstrong. I wrote my papers. I recorded my lame radio show. I turned it all in, never more excited to just be done with a stupid book.

And then Ms. Smith accused me of plagiarism.

I'm not even kidding, guys! She made me stay after school, where she pulled out the poems I'd written. She looked at me accusingly. "Where did you get these?"

I stared at her, not understanding for a moment. "Uh, I wrote them."

She shook her head. "No sixteen-year-old can write this well."

I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or flattered, but I had to spend a reasonable amount of time clearing my name either way. And the more I thought about it, the more hurt I was. I'd played her game. I read the stinking book. I did my best work. And I was being punished. It might be hard when people expect a lot from you—it's just insulting when people assume you're incapable.

Thus, Ms. Smith took the worst and Final Step in How To Make A Teen Hate Reading:

Underestimate Them.

So that's why I hate The Great Gatsby. It's totally personal. Sorry, F. Scott, you never stood a chance. I can't think of that book without shuddering. It kinda makes me sad, because it shouldn't have been that way. I've had many a teacher instill passion for literature in me. I will forever love Macbeth and Jane Eyre because of a teacher who was tough, but fair and funny and deep. I can even appreciate the formidable Annie Dillard, thanks to a teacher who respected me and believed in me.

It's amazing what a difference one person can make. And I'm sure you're all now wondering, "Then how do you encourage a teen to read?" Yeah...good question. I'll pretend I know how to answer that tomorrow.

Anyone Can Be A Reader

When people find out that I write and enjoy reading, sometimes they say, "That's cool. I'm just not a reader." Then my heart shrivels up into a prune. Not a reader?

Maybe my love of the written word makes me slightly biased, but I truly believe that anyone can be a reader. You just have to find the right books for you. And trust me—there are books out there for you.

For a while I didn't think I was much of a reader either, mostly because my reading experiences were centered around school. Sometimes I would LOVE the book assigned (like The Giver, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, or Catherine Called Birdy), and other times I would hate the book more than I hated my arch nemesis "Will Beaver" (like The Scarlet Letter, The Great Gatsby [though I think that was my evil teacher's fault], and The Illiad).

The "crap" books made me really not want to read, even though in my head I knew I liked to read. I wrote! I should like to read! It distressed me.

It only got more frustrating when I did catch the fire only to have it fizzle out. After reading a book I loved, I would get so jazzed about reading. I went to go find more...except then I wasn't very successful. The library was overwhelming—I seemed to always pick up something "boring." People kept throwing Nancy Drew in my face because I was a girl. Or The Babysitter's Club (okay, I read a few). When I got older it was The Wheel of Time series...apparently I "looked like I would enjoy them." What the heck was THAT supposed to mean? And if it wasn't that, people were handing me fatty, wordy, intimidating classics. I wanted something I could relate to.

I would give up and go home empty-handed. Sad. Thank goodness there's a YA section now, because it was what I was looking for all those years. I think it's what a lot of people were looking for, and thus adults are reading it to fill that hole in their reading hearts.

(Side note: This is also why I'm extremely excited about St. Martin's new imprint devoted to "New Adult" books. My college years were also filled with a desire to read and not many books I clicked with. In fact, I wrote a post about this a while ago. I'm glad the publishing industry is finally catching on to my genius [so, so kidding...kinda].)

Once I figured out what books I liked to read, I became a reader. I love to read! Just like I always thought I did. I'm really glad that I didn't give up on books even though it took forever to discover my tastes.

I think people who deem themselves "not a reader" just never found something they loved. And then they gave up. That's such a shame! It's like going into a clothing store, trying on a horrible pair of neon pink skinny jeans, and then proclaiming you are now a nudist because all clothes look horrible on you.

I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but I just want to encourage everyone to find what they love to read (and to help others find what they love, too). It might take some experimentation, but what doesn't? It's like shopping for clothes—you have to try stuff on to see if it works for you. So what if it's not the classics—I've read very few myself. And so what if it IS the classics! It's okay if you're not into modern fiction. Try non-fiction, biography, history, mystery, romance, poetry, fantasy, sci-fi. I promise there is a book out there that you will love. And you should read what you love!

It's never too late to start, either. Sure, encouraging kids to read is great—I shove books in my kids' faces all day long—but reading often falls by the wayside the second we "grow up." Something about not having time? Well, there's never time for anything unless we make time, so I reject that excuse.

Reading is magic—it's an art form where the viewer plays a part in creation. I hate to think that anyone is missing out on that experience just because they haven't found the book for them. Because anyone can be a reader.

Storytime

Okay, I haven't written a word in 2 weeks. I miss Spork; I miss storytelling! So today I'm going to tell a story—since the only writing I'm allowed to do is blogging. Warning: It will be long. This is a real story from my own teen years, as best as I can remember it.

Woodstock
In all my years of high school, there was only one boy I knew for sure liked me—and not just liked, but liked. It all started on a drama trip. I can't even remember what we were doing, but it was some kind of weekend workshop and only the best actors and techies in school got to go.

In one of these workshops, two boys from another school kept staring at me and my friend Amy. I didn't think anything of it—Amy always got stared at. At one point, we'd counted 19 boys that had a crush on her. And that was just the known ones. So when they followed us out after, I rolled my eyes, expecting the usual hitting-on-Amy affair.

"Hey, you were really good in there," one of the boys said to Amy. He was short, with a buzz cut and flirty smile.

"Thanks," she said, barely looking at him as we headed for our group.

"I'm Sean. Do you wanna go out to lunch?"

I held in my laugh as Amy explained for the thousandth time that she had a boyfriend and actually we were going to meet up with him right now. Sean tried to hide a frown. Classic day with Amy.

"Why didn't you do a piece?" the other boy asked me. I jumped, not realizing that he was walking next to me. He had curly brown hair and a perfect tan—skinnier than me but tall.

"Oh, um...I paint sets. I just tagged along." I looked down. What the heck was going on? He was supposed to be looking at Amy, not me.

"Ah, a techie, cool cool." He jumped in front of me, and I stopped. My face got warm as he held out his hand. "I'm Brennan."

I didn't take his hand—I had bubble issues—but I waved. "Natalie."

He laughed, then came forward and grabbed my hand. He shook it with both his palms around mine. "Nice to meet you, Natalie. I know Amy already shut Sean down, but maybe you'd want to come to lunch with us?"

I recoiled, shocked by how forward this Brennan boy was. No boy ever talked to me, acted interested in me. I was always the friend of the girl with a boyfriend. This had to be a joke. "Uh, sorry, I'm gonna hang out with my friends."

"Alright, cool. See you guys around later maybe." He shoved his hands in his pockets, his smile fading.

"Yeah, maybe."

Amy and I ran off to our friends, joking about the boys who'd hit on us. Except I tried to deny the "hit on" part; I did not get hit on. But in the back of my mind I knew that's what Brennan was doing, and a little part of me felt special for it.

We saw Sean and Brennan a few more times that weekend, but we blew them off. I wasn't interested in a weekend fling anyway, even if Brennan was kind of cute and obviously interested. Then I was back home, positive I'd never see him again since he didn't even go to school in the same town as me.

***

My friend Whitney worked at The Purple Turtle. Yes—The Purple Turtle. It's this iconic joint in the area with a purple roof and a giant, purple-shelled turtle on the sign. The food isn't very great, but it's THE PURPLE TURTLE! And they give you toast with whatever you order, whatever time of day. I still don't know why.

I never had a reason to go to The Purple Turtle, but when I found out Whitney worked there I HAD to visit. She said I should come right when she was about to get off work so we could do something after.

I pulled into The Purple Turtle (can you tell I like saying that?) parking lot around 9PM, ready to see the place for real. And I was hungry, which is the best time to try a place with questionable food quality. I went up to the register, expecting to see Whitney there waiting for me. But it wasn't her—it was a skinny boy with curls poking out of his hat and a wide smile. My eyes bugged out, but I couldn't turn back since he'd already seen me.

"Hey! Natalie!" Brennan said. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, eating?" What I really wanted to do was die. I had no idea he worked there, but I was never coming to visit Whitney again. That was for sure.

He shook his head, this amused smirk on his face. "Of course, what'll you have?"

I'd never ordered there before, so I said a burger and he made some comment about liking girls who eat. I hoped that didn't mean I was fat. I was thicker than him, which kind of made me insecure. Whitney found me while I was waiting for my order, so thankfully I didn't have to stand there and talk to him in my embarrassed state. We sat at a table and she eyed me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you know Brennan?"

"Kinda..." I explained about the drama thing we'd both been at.

Whitney laughed. "You're that girl? Oh my gosh, he talked about you for like a week! Kept asking me if I knew any hot girls at my school in drama named Natalie."

I blushed. "No way."

"Yeah, but I thought he meant the other Natalie. Sorry."

"Oh, don't be sorry." There were two other very, very pretty Natalies in the drama program. And I wasn't really interested in Brennan finding me in the first place.

Speaking of Brennan, he was coming right for us with my food in tow. He sat next to me, and the two of them joked about working there while I ate in front of them. Because I wasn't embarrassed enough.

I managed to make it out of there without a date, though I wasn't sure why I didn't want to go out with him. Honestly, he was nice. He liked a lot of the same things I did. He was even cute. But maybe that's what scared me—not that it couldn't go anywhere, but that it could.

***

I was running late, for once. I hated being late for school, but there was a new layer of snow outside and I'd slept in. It'd take 10 extra minutes to dig Udell, my gray Pontiac Bonneville, out of its igloo.

"There's something outside for you!" Mom called when she got home from dropping a sibling off at school.

"What?"

She smiled wide. "Go look on the front porch."

I raised an eyebrow, not in the mood for cryptic commands. Or pranks for that matter. If someone had picked today of all days to TP my house...I wrenched the door open.

"What in the...?" I stared at the large, cylindrical object on my front step. Then I read the neon poster paper taped to the front:

Hey Natalie! Here's a water heater. Will you go to the Valentine's Dance with me?
—Woodstock

"Woodstock?" There was a small picture of The Peanuts bird by a phone number. I wanted to pretend I didn't know who this was from, but I was sure I remembered Brennan mentioning that his friends called him that. "Great."

I had this policy that I never turned down a first date...but with my hands shaking and my heart pounding, I was seriously reconsidering.

***

It turned out to be Whitney's water heater, that traitor. She helped him with the whole thing. And she laughed her head off when I came into AP Art that morning stricken with terror. I didn't tell her if I was saying yes or not. I didn't know myself.

I thought about it the whole day. What the heck was my problem? A guy liked me! I'd wanted a guy to like me forever. And now that one obviously did I couldn't get my stomach to stop turning. I was 18, and yet I still didn't feel ready to be in a relationship. To have a boyfriend.

But it was just one date. Brennan deserved one date and I knew it. If I was going to have a boyfriend, he wouldn't have been a bad choice. So when I got home, I dialed the number.

"Hello?" It was definitely him, and now my vocal chords refused to work. "Hello?"

"Um, hi, Brennan?"

"Natalie?" I could feel the smile in his voice. My gut twisted.

"Yeah. I got your...present." I laughed in spite of myself. A water heater—I would never forget that. He did have good taste in ridiculousness. "Thanks."

He laughed. "You're welcome. So, um...do you wanna go? It doesn't have to be anything serious. Just for fun."

"You really want to go with me, don't you." I still couldn't wrap my mind around it. This boy from another school, who was cool and cute and nice, shouldn't want anything to do with dorky me.

"Of course I do. I've never met anyone like you."

I smiled, the fear melting just a little. "Well, then I'll go with you."

***

In Utah they do this thing called a "day date." It's a date before the dance, essentially, where you go do a fun group activity that may or may not be less awkward than the actual dance.

We were going laser tagging with a bunch of his friends. I was nervous as all get out, seeing as I'd never played laser tag and could easily make myself look stupid in front of all his friends. But the idea of shooting things? It could be a nice way to relax.

They picked me up, and Brennan and I sat in the back of Sean's car. He drove way too fast, but Brennan told him to slow down when he saw my face.

When we got to the laser tag place, they made us split up boys vs girls. Because that was so fair. We strapped on our gear and got an hour to shoot the living daylights out of each other. It actually ended up being really fun. I killed Brennan several times, as well as most of the boy team. The girls still totally lost, but I did get the highest girl score.

"You rock!" Brennan held his hand out for a high five, and I slapped it shyly.

"Thanks."

We still had to get ready for the dance, so Sean dropped his date off first and then they headed for my place. It was a good 20 minutes from where they lived. And about ten minutes from my house, The Urge hit. I had to PEE, and I wasn't going to make it home. We were on a country back road...I was doomed.

"Um, Sean?" I leaned forward, biting my lip. "I'm gonna need you to speed—a lot."

"What? I thought you said—"

"I need to pee, man. And unless you freaking hurry up you're gonna have a very wet back seat."

They both laughed, but Sean floored it. He's was going over 90 in a 45; he hit the mouth of the canyon fast. But I knew I wasn't going to make it home.

"Turn here!" I screamed. Whitney's house was close. I'd been there a few times, but not enough to remember exactly. "Turn left!"

"Where are we going?" Brennan asked.

"I'm not gonna make it home." We were on a residential street, but I knew it wasn't Whitney's. Crap. I didn't have time to turn around. "Just stop right here."

Sean slammed on the brakes and I ran for the nearest house, hoping someone would be home and that they'd let me use the bathroom. A freaky old guy answered the door, but he did let me use the facilities. When I got back to the car, both the boys were staring at me.

"Did you know those people?" Brennan asked.

I shook my head. "I really had to pee."

He laughed hard, touching my hand just slightly. "And here I thought you were pretending so you could get rid of us faster."

"Why would I want to do that?" I blushed, realizing that he might take that more flirty than intended. But I couldn't deny the truth. "Today's been a blast."

He opened the car door for me when we got to my house. When our eyes met, it was the first time I noticed they were hazel and not brown. He smiled. "See you in a few hours."

***

I hate to admit I wore ugly clothes to the dance, but I did. I was determined not to look too nice—so as to emphasize that this wasn't a big deal. I wore a teal striped shirt and a bright blue skirt I got at DI (a store like Good Will, etc.). I didn't even wear nice shoes—just my white skater shoes with blue shoelaces...and white tights. Oh baby.

I looked in the mirror, cringing at my hair. It was too short. I'd just barely got it cut again into that spikey pixy thing, and the lady went to town. I almost looked like a boy, were it not for my curves. I thought I looked fat, too, especially in comparison to Brennan. What did he see in me again?

I almost put on something nicer, but the doorbell rang. He was early! I ran upstairs to answer it before my mom. I didn't want her taking pictures—the dance ones would be bad enough.

Brennan told me I looked nice, but I didn't believe him. Somehow we still got to the dance late though he was early—mostly because Sean's date took forever. He said he was glad I wasn't high maintenance like that...then I worried I was too low maintenance. Like, so low maintenance I was ugly and he was just being polite.

It was cool going to a dance not at my high school. I wasn't as embarrassed to be myself. Nobody knew who I was. No one expected anything of me. We really did have a lot of fun. So when we sat at a table to take a break, I shouldn't have been so surprised by what Brennan said.

"You are amazing, Natalie. You're the coolest girl I've ever met." He looked into my eyes, hardly blinking.

I looked away, clasping my hands together just in case he was getting ideas. "Shut up. I am not."

"You are too. You're so smart and funny and real. Any guy would kill to have a girlfriend like you." He scooted closer, and my bubble became a brick wall. He said girlfriend. Oh my gosh, he wanted me to be his girlfriend? No...there was no way. We hardly knew each other and I had no idea if I liked him that way or not. And if I had to think that hard about it, didn't that mean I didn't?

Brennan deserved a girl who was crazy about him. A girl who didn't have to wonder if she liked him and how much and if she really wanted a relationship. I couldn't pretend—I was no actress. I was a techie, a no bull kinda girl. And I hated that I'd have to hurt his feelings because of that.

"Well, thanks." I folded my arms, feeling the exact opposite of the girl he claimed I was.

"You're welcome."

He didn't seem to notice my decision, and I couldn't find the words to say it. He hugged me too long when he dropped me off at the doorstep, I think hoping for a kiss I was far too chicken to give.

***

Brennan called me a few times, and we talked a little. But I was a horrible phone person to begin with, so I always found a reason to get off. I was afraid he thought something would happen, or was happening. And I was trying to figure out why I didn't want that. I still don't have that answer, except that I was scared.

Then one day after school he showed up—at my high school. I had my huge art portfolio in one hand, and a roll of posters in the other as I headed for the parking lot. And then there he was in the hall, smiling at me with his arms outstretched. He hugged me, and I couldn't hug back with all my stuff.

"Where've you been?" he whispered.

I couldn't breathe. What the heck was he doing here? He couldn't have come just to see me. But then maybe he did. My stomach twisted up as I caught the looks on my friends' faces. I hadn't mentioned him at all, which I'd just realized was horrible. "Um, I've been really busy."

He pulled back, and I knew he knew. The smile dropped off his face and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Right, busy. Should have guessed a girl like you wouldn't have time for..." He shrugged. My eyes started to sting, but I had no words. "Good luck with everything, Natalie."

Brennan turned and ran, while I forced the tears down with a gulp. My friends asked about him, and I shook my head. "He's just a boy I met on that drama trip, that's all."

But he was so much more than that. He was the first boy who saw the real me and had the courage to say it; I just didn't have the courage to believe it.

What I'm Reading: Week 2

We're two weeks into November—I trust the NaNo writing is going well! I'm hoping you're close to 25k or even past it. You can do it! And if you need inspiration, go check out my crazy friend Steph who wrote 14k in one day, thanks to her rabid need to accomplish INSANE goals. Love her. Go Steph!

My reading has been fairly on track...just a touch behind. I had no idea 3 books a week would be such a lofty goal for myself, but I am determined to do it. I'm on my sixth book (of 12, woot!), but I'm never gonna dent the TBR pile if Nick and I keep hitting B&N on dates. Yeah, we bought 4 more books yesterday. Oops?

Anyway...this week's reading:

I absolutely loved Julie Halpern's Into The Wild Nerd Yonder. No, like, LOVED. This was so the book for me. I mean, hello? There are D20's on the cover (those are 20-sided D&D dice)! (Which is why I picked it up in the first place, heh.)

It's such a treat to read a book that feels like it was written just for you. Jessie (the MC) is in between social groups, something I always struggled with as a teen. And when her old friends betray her, the nerd crowd starts looking way more appealing than it should...especially that freakishly cute boy with the flooded pants and white sneakers.

And if that's not awesome enough, there's serious bad boy pwnage, too! You all know how I feel about bad boys. There are good messages even, though I guess I should warn about some sexual content for those who might worry about that. I think it was handled very well though, and shouldn't deter readers.

In all seriousness, I will read this book again I loved it so much. If you have a "nerdy" girl in the family or are one yourself, you'll probably enjoy this book, too.

The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton is old school YA, and I really wanted to check out the roots of my genre, so to speak. I really enjoyed the book. The characters are so unique and the story is one that leaves you thinking for days after. I'm really glad I've finally read it.

It's so beautifully simple. And short. And strong. I think a lot of people read it in school, but I'd never really heard of it except for the movie (though I've never seen it). I'm kind of sad that I missed out for so long. Even with the "older" language, it was still an easy, fast-paced read that I think anyone could enjoy.


I'm about half way through Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan and it's everything I'd hoped it would be. It's so, so cool. The world building is absolutely fantastic. What has impressed me the most so far is that both story lines are equally compelling—not an easy feat at all. But I love both Alek and Deryn and the worlds they live in.

I'm also enjoying the pure action. If you're in the mood for a good adventure, this book would surely fill that craving. It's been nonstop battles, running, and danger. It totally rocks. It's been a nice break from love triangles, for sure.

Oh, and if all that's not enough, I just have to add that this is also another beautifully printed book. The cover is incredible in person; the inside map is mesmerizing, and the illustrations in each chapter are stunning. I love when publishers take the time to craft a gorgeous book.

Okay, so that's what I've been reading this week. I have a few long books to tackle this week, so I gotta step up my game.

Saturday Sketch: Old West

This one is for Mariah Irvin, who won Runner-up in my Halloween contest. It's Jane and August from the novel she is working on for NaNo. It's a YA western! How cool is that? I think it sounds fabulous. I hope you are making good progress on that baby, Mariah! Title yet?

In other drawing news, I've officially filled my current notebook! That's a lot of drawings, guys. Like, around 100 or so. I have a new one ready to go for next week—love a brand new notebook. So many pages to fill with pencil and colors.

Happy Thoughts

I could be really down today (or really mad, whatever), but I'm not going to be because either emotion is just a waste of time and energy. I'm only going to think of the things that make me happy. There are so many great things in my life, big and small. A few annoying little disappointments shouldn't be allowed to ruin my mood. Begone, little annoying disappointments! You're such a buzz kill.

1. My family is coool. We're also really cute and proud to be nerds. This picture pretty much says it all, I think.

2. Owl City is my favoritest band. Listening to their songs always makes me happy. Who else writes about going to the dentist or strawberry avalanches? No one but them. I'm gonna listen to one of their songs right now.


3. I don't eat very much meat anymore, but I still have to have a double cheeseburger every other month or so. Don't really know why, but it's about the only thing I crave on a regular basis. I had one last night—it was gloriously disgusting and greasy.

4. I'm not sure I've mentioned this, but I'm going to Florida for Christmas/5th Wedding Anniversary. Without kids. Every time I think about this I smile. I haven't been on a vacation with Nick since before kids.

5. The Food Network makes me giddy. Not so much the instructional shows, but all the other ones. I watch that channel way more than I should, even when it's reruns. Ace of Cakes, Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, Iron Chef America, Food Network Challenge, Chopped, Chef vs. City, etc. LOVE.

6. I've said it a thousand times, but I have the BEST friends. For a girl who had very few growing up, I can barely wrap my mind around it. They are all over the country, but I've never felt closer to people. They get me. They believe in me when I don't believe in myself. I could not ask for more.

7. I haven't really talked about it, but I found Tosh and Amy from Relax, I'm a Ninja a while back. They're both Japanese actors, and they were actually in a movie together. This makes me all sorts of happy. I present Yui Aragaki and Haruma Miura:

Hope you are all having a happy Friday! I'm going to go dance around to Owl City and make brownies or something.

Book Research

So I've been trying to figure out how to write a post about research. I've not been very successful, honestly. It's kind of a personal thing, and much of it depends on your genre and how much you know about the topic already.

Like, if I were to write about a Mormon teenager going to a ridiculously rich high school, I wouldn't have to research much at all. But if I decided to write about a Russian girl trying to escape communist rule? Yeah...I'd be reading for a long time.

How can I give advice when it would be different for every single project?

Well, I can give really vague advice based on my own experience. I kind of rock that, don't I? I will be using Void today for examples of what I did with my own research.

1. Get Your Bearings
I personally don't think researching your book to death is the best thing. But keep in mind the "to death" is relative—you know when you're going overboard. Unless you're writing historical fiction, you probably don't need to know every single detail to get writing. Research enough to where you feel comfortable in your book's world.

For Void, the idea came to me while cooking. I thought, "I'm glad I don't have magic because then I would just conjure food." (I know, I'm crazy.) And then that light bulb moment hit—what if there was a magic-less girl born to wizards who didn't care one wit that she didn't have magic? Coral Starfall was born.

Except magic had soooo been done. In my head, I knew Coral's world was a blend of a magical one and our contemporary one, but so not like HP. I had to research to figure out what I was imagining. I ended up being drawn to late 19th century supernaturalism, and this gave my wizards a Victorian flare. It was perfect. (Little did I know that Steampunk was even a genre at this point, or that Void would end up looking like a contemporary crash between that and modern technology. Go figure.)

I did very basic research, since I was basing my wizards on Victorian times—not plucking them straight from there. I looked up fashion, etiquette, architecture, furniture, and other things I could use for visuals. Then I got writing.

2. When In Doubt, Look It Up
If I hit a point in my writing where I'm not sure about a detail, I do more research. I really like working this way because it helps me focus on the details I must have in the book, not the flood of information you could inadvertently add by researching anything and everything up front.

Like when I hit Chapter 4 in Void—Coral builds a small internal combustion engine. Um, I didn't know anything about internal combustion engines. So I stopped writing and spent a few hours reading about all the parts in an engine, how they work, and what it takes to assemble a small one. Then I looked up engines to see just how small they can be. I found diagrams, instructions, etc and was able to sound semi-credible when it came to engine assembly.

And later when Coral drove Motocross for the first time, I spent a whole day watching videos, looking at pictures, and reading up on the sport. I found Motocross tracks in the Bay Area, looked up their rules and such, even found them on maps so I'd know how far away they were from Coral's house. The internet is amazing that way. I can't imagine researching without it.

Rinse repeat for the catapults, trebuchets, motorcycles, magic, football, basketball (which is now cut, arg), physics, and other things I knew nothing about in that book. I did a lot of research...

Once I have enough information, I keep writing. Because the goal isn't to know everything about whatever subject—the goal is to write a story.

3. When You're Stuck, Read Up
Because I'm not one for outlines (don't stifle my creativity!), I get stuck fairly often. I work things out in my first drafts, and sometimes important information doesn't show up until half way through or even in later drafts. I like the discovery process; I learn my world as I write and that keeps it interesting to me.

When I do get stuck, I like to research. May as well, right? I figure it'll help me fill in details or even discover the "missing piece" that will move the story forward. It works more often than not, I can tell you that.

In Void, the wizards banned technology in their communities in the mid-1800s. I had no idea why for the longest time, just that they had. I knew the information would come out eventually, but Coral didn't know why either, so I wrote the whole (first) book without that question ever being answered.

In revisions, I was unhappy with a certain section of the book—and the fact that I didn't get as much "magi-tek" development in there as I'd hoped, since in my head it's a central part of the series. I started reading up on metal of all things—when various metals where discovered and how, their importance, what they're used for today, etc. I had one of those "OMG, THAT'S IT!" moments while reading and used that information to fix several problems with the book.


And that's how I do my research. It works for me. I'd love to know how other people work, because surely you guys have some good tips as well. How do you know when to stop? Do you like to research or is it an evil necessity? I'm curious.

A Plea To Teen Boys

Dear Teen Boy,

I'm going to say this as nicely as possible—you look UGLY in skinny jeans. No, really, that's as politely as I can say it. Someone had to be honest with you, because it's just gotten out of hand lately. I love you too much to let you do this to yourself. It's so bad I almost miss the super baggy jeans of the 90s, but two dresses on your legs was just not cool either.

Hey, dude, I can, like, fit 2 liters in my back pockets. It's hecca tight. (Yes, a boy actually said this to me in eighth grade.)

At least back then I didn't have to constantly see way, way more stick guy leg and, uh...other stuff. Sure, I got gratuitous boxer flashes, but I still get that. And it's far more traumatizing when you wear your pants below your butt and your boxers are baggier than your pants. How you walk like that is a mystery to me. How you could even be comfortable looking like this I will never understand.

Is it just me, or does this poor boy kinda look like a capital L? He so would if we had a profile shot. Attractive? Hrm. I'm gonna say no.

I mean, really? Really? You think you look cool? Oh, dear Teen Boy. You don't. You look androgynous at best, boarding on Teen Girl when you grow your hair out in that Foppy doo thingamajob. But maybe it's your goal to look like a girl. If that's the case, you are definitely accomplishing that.

What is wrong with a normal pair of jeans? I know they may not be flashy. They might not help you express your rabid need to be different. But they are surely more comfortable AND less mortifying in the long run (because seriously, we're all laughing at you inside). Just imagine how bad your kids will laugh when they see your teen pictures. Or maybe your future girlfriends. Or any other person on the planet. You will never live those skinny jeans down.

What is wrong with these jeans? Nothing, I tell you. Normal jeans are HAWT! I might be overgeneralizing, but I'm pretty sure all girls think normal jeans are HAWT.

Don't you want to be hawt, Teen Boy? Maybe you don't, but if you do please stop borrowing your sister's jeans. It's just not cool, no matter what the famous Teen Boys are doing. They are being BAD examples. Don't listen to the likes of these:

I just threw up a little in my mouth. So...tight. So...*shivers*

So I beg of you, Teen Boy, take a stand against peer pressure. Don't do this to yourself just because other people say it's cool. You're better than this. You are cute and funny and awesome squared the way you are. You don't have to show off the...uh...goods. Just say no to skinny jeans.

xoxo,
Natalie

You Never Stop Being You

I was chatting with a friend yesterday (her name starts with a K and rhymes with Beersten), and something really interesting came up between the jokes about boys in skinny jeans (Seriously, teen boys, STOPthisyoulooklikeGIRLS!) and book brainstorming (I finally have cute orange VW van guy's name! wee!).

Basically, you never stop being you.

If you haven't noticed, many of my friends have been seeing some serious success as of late. Book deals. Agents. Getting bumped up a year. Blurbs. Visits to New York. It's totally crazy stuff—stuff that many an author dreams about on an hourly basis. I am in awe of it all, that I even have any part in it. I feel lucky and blessed and sometimes even undeserving.

I think writers sometimes imagine that when they get insert-major-accomplishment-here they'll finally stop worrying. Or finally be happy. Or change the way they view their work. Or whatever. As if getting an agent or publisher or hitting the bestseller lists or receiving awards will fix whatever they want fixed.

I know I thought that at one point. My dreams turned into phantoms, bringing me more pain than anything else. Sometimes Wanting can be poison, and it taints every accomplishment because nothing is ever enough. Wanting is not just a writer thing; it's a human thing. Unchecked Wanting can be dangerous because it gives you this illusion that Getting will make things better. And in the mean time, you withhold your own happiness for no good reason.

But here's the thing—my friends' successes have not changed how they act or feel. Getting an agent didn't transform them all into happy, perfect writers. Getting book deals didn't stop them from worrying about the quality of their work. In fact, in some ways there is even more pressure to deliver perfection.

I'm not saying all these accomplishments mean nothing. Please don't think that. And I'm definitely not saying that my friends are unhappy—because they are the funnest, most grateful, happy people I know. They're, like, the Positive Squad, fighting the evils of negativity in a town near you.

I guess I'm just saying they were like that before, too. Of course we've all had our low points and struggles—hard times are unavoidable. But it's all about your attitude. If you aren't happy now, getting an agent or book deal or whatever isn't going to change that in the long run. You'll just Want something else and withhold your happiness until you get that. If you are critical of your work now, having validation won't stop you from picking apart your words. If you hate revision now, working on them with an editor won't make them fun.

Okay, that might sound a little depressing. Oops. Let me spin it the nice way, too. If you love your characters, endless revision with an editor won't change that. If you truly want to be a professional writer, all the hard parts that come with that won't stop you. If you choose to be happy now, you will be happy in the future.

You never stop being you. And if you do want to change, that ultimately comes from inside, not from Getting want you've been Wanting.

Facing New Things

For me, one of the most rewarding and challenging parts of being a writer is the constant change. I think back to my writer-self last year, and man, I don't even recognize that girl. It's both good and bad. I've improved skill-wise so much this year. I've really learned how to revise. But at the same time I don't have the time to write I did last year, and I'm starting to think my days in the fast-writing lane are over. Also, I've met the goal I had for so long—I have an agent (yes, that still makes me smile).

I'm kind of in a "hanging out" phase. For the first time in a long while, I don't really have to write. I pushed myself with the goal of landing an agent. Now I'm here. Waiting. Which is fine, just different. I feel like I don't quite fit in my new writer skin yet.

I've been messing around a lot—fiddling with new projects, reading new things, trying to decide what I want based on a myriad of if/when scenarios. It's a little weird, not having a goal. Well, I DO have one (getting published), but it's out of my hands now. I'm such a goal oriented person, so this is actually slowing me down. But then I'm not sure that's a bad thing either.

It's all just a little...weird, I guess. Surreal? Something like that.

But I've decided I should just embrace the whole limbo thing. (Mostly because there's nothing else I can do without driving myself deeper into insanity.) I feel adventurous; I want to experiment. I already have a library's worth of fantasy/sci-fi ideas/books, but there's this contemporary fiction idea tickling the back of my brain. It's still YA, but it's unlike anything I've written.

Why not, you know? When else will I be able to mess around with something outside my "brand"? It's still such a baby idea, but I bought a notebook just for it. I'm having fun jotting down ideas; it's a good distraction at the very least. It's got an old theater, an uptight girl lighting director, a dreamy boy with an orange VW van, and Phantom of the Opera. What not to love, right?

Don't worry, Spork will still get finished, but I realized even that book has been a big fat experiment, too. It's my first steampunk, first completely fabricated fantasy world. It has been a refreshing change of pace as well. I'm itching to get back to it (ack, still 3 weeks of no writing!).

I realized it's okay to just mess around right now, even if my over-achiever side says I'm lazy. I'm stretching myself by experimenting. None of what I write now may see the light of day, but that's okay.

You have to enjoy the stage of writing you're at—you just never know when it's going to change and how that will affect your life. And even when the changes are great, they still come with their own challenges. I can't wait to see where I'm at next year; I'm sure it won't be like anything I imagine.

What I'm Reading

My month of reading has gotten off to a slow start. I only finished two books this week. I'm just not fast! I have barely gotten to my third book today, but I'm determined to finish before midnight. It's short; I shall make my goal of three books a week!

Some of you expressed being curious about what I was reading. Here are the ones I've got to so far.

I started out with Laini Taylor's Lips Touch. I couldn't resist the absolute beauty of this book. And not just the words, but the art and the printing! If you haven't seen this book in person, go find it. It's stunning. The cover is even prettier than it looks, and the red accents inside are beautiful and not overdone. It's book ART.

The three stories were like a gourmet meal—tantalizing appetizer, spicy soup, and a mouth-watering entree. Laini has a gorgeous writing style. You can tell she spent time on every word, and yet it's not indulgent. It's just...yum. I kinda wanted to make out with the book after. I am so rooting for this baby to win the National Book Award it's nominated for.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins is one of the best sequels I've read this year. There was one part where I went, "AGAIN? Really?" But other than that it was a gripping read just like the first.

I have this love/hate relationship with this series. For some reason The Hunger Games ripped my heart out and smeared it all over the place. It wasn't pleasant, so I'd been deliberately avoiding Catching Fire and the anxiety it would surely bring.

It wasn't as bad. If you struggled with the same emotions as me, I was better able to cope with the impossible decisions Katniss has to make and some of my dislike for her waned.

I am about half way through Gayle Forman's If I Stay, and it is as lovely as people have been telling me (also beautifully printed). Surprisingly, it's not ripping me to pieces like I expected it to, but maybe I just haven't hit that part that's supposed to make me bawl like a baby.

The characters are real and the style is accessible. It's sad, but not in the way I expected it to be. I really love the main character. Even just half way through, it's easily one of the best contemporary YA fiction books I've read this year. I can't wait to finish it.

And that's what I've been reading this week. Tune in next Sunday for more of my adventures in the land of not writing and actually reading published books.

Saturday Sketch—Pirate Style

This is for my dear friend, The Dread Pirate Sara. Her novel, Stream Pirate, had a birthday yesterday, and in honor of that she spent the whole week celebrating International Stream Pirate Appreciation Week (ISPAW). There were prizes, adorable baby photos, and yummy pictures of Philip Winchester. Good times.

And now, to finish off ISPAW, I present a picture of Yazoo and Lu from a certain moment in the book. Some of you may know what I'm talking about, and hopefully ALL of you will know one day when Sara's amazing agent Kate Testerman sells that baby.

Hope you are all having a wonderful weekend. I have a book to finish reading, so I'll leave you to enjoy this lovely picture. I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

Get Thee To A Crit Group

I've been asked several times by my lovely readers how to find a crit group/what makes a good one/do I really need one/etc.—maybe because I have the most awesome crit group in the world. (I really believe that, too.)

So today I present you with:

The Mostly Complete Guide to Crit Groups
If you're a writer seeking publication, you need a crit group. No, really, you do. And not just for the technical support, but the emotional support as well. A good crit group can propel you to the next level in your writing, can motivate you to finish that book, can bring friendships of a lifetime (teehee, sorry, inside joke). Working with my now-close friends has been one of the most rewarding experiences I've had.

I think we all know this, but when I first started my journey I remember how scary it was to try and find people to read my book. Not only are those first crits terrifying, but you initially aren't sure you can trust someone, if you're a good match, if they'll "get you." It's like trying on clothes—sometimes they just don't fit and that's not anyone's fault. Writers come in all shapes and sizes, and you have to find what works for you.

Tips for Finding Crit Partners:
1. Get Around
In this age of social networking, it is so, so easy to find writers on the web! When I first started my blog, I would just stalk blogs, read a post or two, and see if I "clicked" with that person. I followed a lot of agent/industry blogs and tried to participate in the discussions. If I read a comment from someone and liked it, I would check out their blog, too.

I ultimately found Kiersten and Renee this way—through Evil Editor. (See? He ain't so evil after all, but don't tell him that.) Kiersten had posted her query over there and I noticed we both went to the same college (and later realized we went to high school together, too!). Renee found Kiersten the same way, and then we started visiting each other's blogs. After getting to know each other better, we decided to exchange work.

I've also found my other crit partners through blogging. Kasie and Sara found me after a certain contest, and once we got close enough we started exchanging work, too. It's turned out quite well for me, and I feel very luck for that.

Blogs aren't the only place to find writers though. I've heard many people connecting at conferences, at local writer's groups, on writer's forums like Absolute Write. But the key is to get out there, get to know people.

2. BUT. Be Careful
There's always a "but," huh. Not everyone on the internet is, shall we say, sane. Sometimes you don't know that right off the bat. You have to be protective of your work—don't ever send it to someone you've just barely met or whose identity seems sketchy. Trust your gut, take your time to get to know the person, and if possible confirm in some way that they are who they say they are.

You can never be too careful with your work. I've heard a few stories that make my blood curdle. All of them could have been a avoided by being a little more careful about sharing your work. I always get nervous when writers call for betas on their blogs. Not only do you not know who you might get, but you don't even know if they'll be helpful to you. I recommend seeking people out you think would match your style and asking them personally (huh, like looking for an agent).

3. Try Not To Take It Personally
If someone declines to read your work, try not to take it to heart. Most writers are busy people with day jobs or families. They also might have a crit group that keeps them busy, and they can't take on more. I, unfortunately, am in this situation now. I used to have time to read more from my fellow writers, but now I am limited to my own circle. I feel very guilty about not being able to give more of my time, but that's just how it goes.

Also, when you're first trying out crit partners, you have to take into account that they might not be a good fit for you. That's okay. Not everyone will make a helpful partner. Just cross them off the list for the next project. I've had this happen a few times. I am still friends with these writers, but we just realized that we're not a good match for one reason or another.

4. Don't Go Overboard
You don't need a throng of readers, just a few trusted ones who get your work. Really, you don't need 20 beta readers—you don't even need 10. The more you have, the more confusing/overwhelming your crits will be. I have about 5 or 6 total. I now send my MS in rounds of two, so I get three beta rounds out of them and they don't have to waste time rereading.

What to Look For In a Crit Partner:
1. The "Click"
It's so important to find someone who gets your work. Who gets you. It's a hard phenomenon to explain, but you know it when you feel it. I really think crit partners should be friends in some way—not critics. Real friends are honest with you, but not in a way that hurts your feelings. They know how to tell you your butt looks big in those pants without saying you're fat. They have your back.

2. Some Skill
You can have non-writer friends and family read your work, but your crit partners need to be writers. They have to know books, know writing on a technical level. They should at least be around the same skill level as you and be working to gain more skill. Usually I see writers of like skill/journey level gravitating toward each other, which is how it should be, I think. You grow together, experience the same ups and downs together.

3. Genre Similarities
It doesn't hurt to have a few crit partners who write in the same genre as you do. They should know the tools of the genre and be better able to tell you if something works for that type of book. I admit I'd feel a little "fish out of water" if I was critiquing an adult thriller—I just don't know what's expected. I've never actually read one...for reals. But give me a YA MS and I can tell you exactly what will and won't work.

4. Positive Vibes
Crit partners should never leave you feeling AWFUL about your book. They should be able to point out problems in a way that makes you want to fix them. They don't try to make your book into their book. They find good things to say along with the bad things.

Most importantly, they make you think differently about your book. The help you see what you can't and approach problems in ways you'd have never thought without them. They get you thinking. This is what I particularly love about my crit group (and my agent). For the most part, they don't tell me how I should fix things—they tell me what they struggled with and trust that I'll come up with the answers. And because of that trust, I know they respect me and my work. And because of that respect, I don't feel defensive about their crits. And because of all that, I can and want to make my book better.

That is how a crit group should work—through inspiration and encouragement, not criticism and belittlement.


So get thee to a crit group! They rock! It's incredible to watch my little group of writer friends progress. So many of us have agents now or are getting close to that. Some of us even have book deals. It has been so rewarding to experience these milestones with my closest friends and to share my own with them. I don't think the journey would have been as good without them, and I am grateful everyday for their support, intelligence, and humor.

To all my writer friends, not just my crit partners—love you guys!