Book report

(I'm double posting this on both blogs...because I can.)

Last night, I finished reading The Tenth Circle, Jodi Picoult's most recent novel.

While not my favorite Picoult story, the presentation itself was unique. She used a cartoonist to graphically illustrate the book between sections, portraying a superhero and his travels through the different levels of hell (a variation on Dante's Inferno). Each cartoon revealed the emotions of the main character--in fact it was written as if he were drawing the cartoons.

I was never a big comic book fan (except Archie and Jughead--I bought every one of those books for months and months when I was a kid--and The Family Circus--my eyes still naturally gravitate toward that circle when I randomly open the newspaper to the comics. I have piles of both of those comic books hidden away somewhere in a box in the attic). Superheroes especially bored me to tears, so I struggled to concentrate on these drawings in the book long enough to "get" them, but wow, what a creative idea!

A surprise awaits the reader at the end of the book. Kind of gimmicky, but fun...and dare I say, educational. :) Other than going back to study a writer's technique, this is the first time I've ever flipped back and forth through a book for an extended period of time after I finished reading.

Oh, that I (or my future publisher anyway) should have such a creative idea for a novel one of these days.

A home for TF

I finally found the NAME for the genre of TF. I've struggled with whether it was "middle grade" or "young adult" from the first. Middle grade is typically ages 9 to 12, and young adult is 12+, however, I knew there was an "emerging genre for ages 10 t0 14," which is where mine really fits. After much time searching the internet the other night, when I could have been FINISHING THIS BOOK, I finally discovered several sites that label it "Upper Middle Grade, for ages 10-14."

Yee haw! Now I can rest. (No scoffing. You don't understand how many words this cuts from my potential query letter.) Doesn't "my upper middle grade manuscript" sound much more professional than "my manuscript for the newly emerging genre of books for readers ages 10 to 14 who fall somewhere between middle grade and young adult" or something equally laborious??? :)

NOW, JULIE, GO FINISH THAT BOOK. YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF EXCUSES.

Shhhh...

(My brother says I'm fully qualified to say that now that I have my library science degree.)

I'm trying to be veddy, veddy quiet while I finish this thing up. Maybe 10 more pages? I even experimented with a query letter last night for fun, and sent it to five guinea pigs for their gut reactions. Haven't heard back from anyone yet. Is it kosher to count rejections based on fake query letters when trying to prove you're a "real writer" to the IRS? ;) Just kidding. Really!

Of course, I know much revising is ahead (although I tend to revise as I go along--when I'm stuck, I go backwards for a while), but it's fun to be able to write a synopsis and know it actually does happen in the book.

I've found a boo-boo I made when outlining this story, which became a series when I realized I had a lot more fun material than could efficiently go in one relatively short book. The "big ending" I had in mind can't happen until the end of the last book in the series, so now I need a more dramatic conclusion and probably a small cliffhanger for this part. Oops. I'm going to be taking a lot of long showers over the next few days, I can tell.

So, for me, perhaps the middle has not been as difficult as the end, but it is a good lesson learned. That's precisely what I had in mind when I started writing this less "serious" manuscript. I wanted to finish fairly quickly (oops), finish well, relax and have a little fun, and get some "lessons learned" under my belt.

On an interesting note, my brand-new 7th grader came in and announced that she was going to have to do something at school this year, and was a little leery about it (although she's really good at fake leeriness, because I'm convinced nothing really scares her). Well, what do you know, I had just recently finished a scene in the TF manuscript that is EXACTLY ABOUT WHAT SHE WAS TELLING ME!!!! I mean, down to some very specific details. I haven't even been a seventh grader for um...lots of years, and had no idea I was so close.

I felt so successful for a few minutes--I had somehow managed to do something very right. I stopped right then and had her read the scene, and she was laughing out loud and told me it was very "real." I was so prouda me. You will have to wait until you read it to find out what I'm talking about. Nyah. :)

See you on the other side of "The End" (Lord willin' and the buzzards don't rise, as my dad once said with what I fear is a genetic propensity for mixing and matching colloquialisms and figures of speech. I do it unintentionally all the time.)

Home stretch, finally?

TF is finally growing again! I was really mired in the plot for the last section, and looking at the notes I've made along the way, it's been nearly a month since I added anything of substance to this manuscript. I was starting to panic a bit, if you couldn't tell.

BUT...tonight I turned a corner toward the home stretch and added nearly 1,500 words. The story line became clear to me again, and I was off and running.

Unfortunately, it's 2 a.m. and I'll be all messed up on my sleep again tomorrow, but I am not complaining a bit.

:) :) :)

Oh, yes, I almost forgot (and did last time, I see, unless you count the Help Me version of the ABCs song), my Lyric of the day. It's not really a lyric. It's the sound of the Theme from Rocky. Can you hear it?

Nah nah nahhhhh
Nah nah nahhhhh
Nah nah nahhhhh
Nah nah nahhhhh
Nah nah nah, nah nah nah
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doooooo....
(repeat 30 times)

A story

Once upon a time, there was a little baby girl named Kristen who was learning her ABCs, set to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. One night, her mother decided to record Kristen's precious singing on her computer (Antoinette, who is now dead and buried in the garage). Kristen kindly obliged, but while she was singing and the computer was recording, her audience became distracted and involved in some other task. Kristen became confused and lost her momentum, hence leading to a recording of a sweet little voice that went something like this:

A, B, C, D, E, F, G.....
H, I, J, K, MNMO...
....
....
Help me.
...
HELP me.
...
HELLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I fondly recall this memory tonight as I cry out because I want to write and I want to finish TF NOW, but I am wading through supply lists and forms and forgotten summer reading with my three lovely children. Did I really sign up for a read and critique session with a children's agent on October 22? Am I really supposed to have my sample pages in by September 20?

Help me. HELP me. HELLLLLLP MEEEEEE!!!!!!

She is here in spirit if not in body...or maybe it's the other way around, who knows

I've neglected blogging recently, but hey, it's "an audience of me," so I shouldn't worry, right? ;)

Just wanted to tell all my readers (Hi, Gail, Teri, Mom, Heather...) I am still alive because you didn't know that, right? Well, maybe not Heather because I didn't talk to her once today. That's an oddity in and of itself.

Went on vacation for a week and a half, and though I've been back for a week, I haven't been in the blogging mood. I've spent a lot of time reading, sleeping, and worrying about my writer's conference decision (which, it turns out, is San Diego, contrary to my thoughts several weeks ago.) Oh, and trying to get some work done, too, which is crazy as always due to its volatile nature. (And I mean that in the very nicest way.)

Here's hoping I'll be back at blogging more soon. The San Diego decision means I need to kick my own bohonkus (which was six pounds bigger after Chicago, but is now three less, for a current net gain of three) toward the finish line on TF faster than ever.

My short story is also coming along nicely...I have written the beginning and the end. It's the middle that always gets ya, they say.