Wonder where I've been?

I picked up this amazing addition to my wardrobe over Christmas and it's just changed my entire life. Not only am I in a constant state of relaxation, but I don't even feel the need to update my blog. Sadly, it may be time for me to finally change outfits.

Do you own one of these bad boys?

I'm getting older Goals.

Today I'm older. I guess that's true everyday, but since I was born on this day 33 25 years ago, it seems like I've aged in a more permanent way. And so I feel compelled to come up with a list of goals.

In the next year I will: 

1. Finish all the revisions on my book.
2. Find a Kick-A Agent
3. Make an effort to write non-crap.
4. Stop drinking Carbonation.
5. Yes, you read that right. That means good bye Coke Zero. Good bye Diet Coke. Good bye life.  (I figured since this life changing goal is so huge it should take up two goal spots on the top ten.)
6. Run two half-marathons so essentially I can say I ran a marathon.
7. Read to my kids every day.
8. Go to Europe.
9. Make a million dollars.
10. Continue to mourn the loss of Michael Jackson.

Of course, I don't know if they'll all happen in that order. But that pretty much sums up my goals for the next year.

What are your 2012 Goals?

Secret 20 of 100

When I was 8 I didn't get a Barbie for Christmas. 

The parents that I thought loved me, didn't bring Diva from Barbie and the Rockers, the Barbie I had asked for over and over and over again. 

No, they bought me Skipper--Barbie's lame-A friend. 

Can you imagine the utter despair and heartache I felt? The disappointment? The near-end-of-the-world-ness?

That wrenching feeling still haunts my heart even now. 

I smiled to hide the frown. (Lie) 

I shed no tears. (Bigger LIE) 

And not once did I speak of the pain in my heart. (Truth. I didn't complain once. I spilled my grievances until those parents caved.) My sadness must've been apparent despite how I tried to hide my disappointment.  

Imagine my surprise when my mom said, "I know your birthday is in a few days, but would you like your present now?"

The tears vanished. "Yes. Now!" I demanded smiled.

Mom returned with a massive box. 

I'll admit I wasn't thrilled. Clearly it wasn't Diva. But as I peeled away the layers of wrapping paper, I saw that the present was even better. My parents loved me after all! They gave me the three-story barbie mansion, complete with the pink convertible car for Barbie and Ken. Life was good. A mansion was better than Diva. I was happy. 

And now my secret is: I always want my birthday presents early. I wan't them NOW! 

Not on the day of my actual birthday. That would be late. 

And since I'm spilling secrets, I might as well tell you that I convinced my mom to hand over my presents yesterday. That's right, folks. One white-haired woman down, the rest of you all to go. So if you have a present for me, I WANT IT NOW! 

Where have you been?

Oh. What? You've been here and I've been gone? *Smack head

With Christmas and shopping and eating and shopping and running around like a crazed Muppet, I've over looked my baby of a ghetto blog. For this, I'm sorry. In the last two weeks I haven't had a moment to stalk read all the blogs I love. So sad.

Please forgive me for leaving you high and dry.

Tomorrow I will post the most self-centered secret ever in the history of secrets.

secret 19 of 100

I used to chew gum--

I found on the ground . . .

That had already been chewed.

Yep. That's the horrible, nasty, no-good, rotten secret of the day. Thus, why I haven't posted until late afternoon. Here's hoping nobody reads this one. But I had to get it off my chest. It's not that bad, is it? I was like four years old. And when my Mom or Dad, or really, really, really annoying sisters found me out I tried desperately to lie about it.

"I, um, got it from a, uh, friend. Yeah, a friend."

Not.

That never worked. I had to spit it out, wash out my mouth, and promise not to do it again.
Eventually I out grew that nasty little habit. (I know you all out there have some of your own nasty little habits, so tread lightly in the "ewwww" comment department.) But here's the thing. I've recently decided that my ABC gum-resuage program isn't all bad. Well the chewing-someone-elese's-gum is totally bad, but the re-usage part is good because it taught me to be thrifty and frugal and make use out of someone else's throw away. That's good, right?

So there you have it: my secret is I'm thrifty.

friday five...prepare yourself

I woke this morning with lots to do,
So I didn't have time to post for you,
But when I sent a bad text today,
Inspiration hit in a funny way.

You know how smart phones have auto correct?
A genius program until it messes up your text.
Auto correct fails can be confusing and lame,
But it's so dang hilarious when your text is insane!

Friday's Five Favorite Auto-Correct Fails:

*Just know that this last one first sickened me because I hate the "N" word. But after I read it I was laughing so hard I nearly peed myself.

 P.s. These were taken from this post:

http://mashable.com/2011/12/05/damn-you-auto-correct-funniest-text/#37143-8

Reading update - touch me and die.

Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi

My Take: 

"Dystopic novels are all the same," a friend of mine said. Sure, take a repressive society and a character's awakening and voila' you get the simplified recipe for a dystopia.
But that's only the frame.
It's the picture Shatter Me paints that is so very unique. I devoured the book in one reading. It's fast-paced, with a twist-laden plot that has as much action as heart-wrenching emotional scenes.
Not only does Mafi spell bind with a character so emotionally broken and yet strong at the same time, but the antagonist is deliciously deceptive yet intriguing. Shatter Me is complexity at it's finest told in a unique first-person narrative.
For any book addict, this is the perfect crack fix for the day.



What they said: 
Juliette hasn't touched anyone in exactly 264 days. 
The last time she did, it was an accident, but The Reestablishment locked her up for murder. No one knows why Juliette's touch is fatal. As long as she doesn't hurt anyone else, no one really cares. The world is too busy crumbling to pieces to pay attention to a 17-year-old girl. Diseases are destroying the population, food is hard to find, birds don't fly anymore, and the clouds are the wrong color. 
The Reestablishment said their way was the only way to fix things, so they threw Juliette in a cell. Now so many people are dead that the survivors are whispering war-- and The Reestablishment has changed its mind. Maybe Juliette is more than a tortured soul stuffed into a poisonous body. Maybe she's exactly what they need right now. 
Juliette has to make a choice: Be a weapon. Or be a warrior. 
In this electrifying debut, Tahereh Mafi presents a world as riveting asThe Hunger Games and a superhero story as thrilling as The X-Men. Full of pulse-pounding romance, intoxicating villainy, and high-stakes choices,Shatter Me is a fresh and original dystopian novel—with a paranormal twist—that will leave readers anxiously awaiting its sequel.


You SHOULDN'T read this if: 
Boring, lamesauce books are your thing. This one will give you a coronary.
You're my friend Rob Code--I've heard enough of your opinions on first person narratives and dystopic novels to know this one just isn't for you.
You're illiterate. For obvious reasons.  

secret 18 of 100.

The secret: I cut my hair. 

 Five inches to be exact. 

See, I'm not like my sister Nikki who grows so much hair she can practically donate twelve inches a month to locks of love. No that's not me. 

I cut my hair because it's terribly thin.

After I had my first kiddo, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Which basically boils down to the fact that now I have thin hair and gain weight just looking at food. Once I even told a stylist at a salon that I had cancer because she kept commenting on how much thinner my hair was compared to other poly-girls. So now the only person who cuts my hair is my amazing friend Tammy because she just cuts and doesn't tell me that I bring shame to all the polynesian women of the world. 

The longer my hair grows, the stragglier it looks. And lately it's been looking awful.

As much as I would love to look like the gal from Splash when I walk out of the shower, that dream isn't in the cards for me. 

I figured Tammy was busy with Christmas stuff, so I just hacked it myself. I'm impatient and impulsive and balding. What can I say?

Now you know my real secret. If there was one part about myself I could change, it would be my hair. P.s. If you ever mention to me that my hair looks thin I might have to use my sweet bow staff skills on your butt.


What about you? Anything you would change if you could?

friday five.

Today I'll be at the library til' night,

Nano is over and yet, I still write. 

Before I left home, there was much to organize,

So this is my list of Friday Fives.

First, I registered for LDS Storymakers.

At this conference there are no writing haters.

My friends find editors while I'm busy taking pics.

Maybe this time I'll be the one to snag an agent.

Second I stocked my bag with treats,

That's no surprise because you know my secret,

Here's a shout-out to my second favorite snack--

Hot Tamales always hit the spot when I'm writing in the stacks.

Third I called my writer friends, 

They give me ideas and support till the end.

I think the best thing you can have when you're writing a book,

Is a group of critique partners that help you with your hook. 

Fourth I found my favorite sweater,

When I write I need comfort to pound out those letters,

It brings me luck and helps me sink into my groove,

It may be threadbare, but at least there's room to move.

Last, I updated my music list,

I-tunes could exist on just my business.

A little Zooey, Frank, and Taylor are a must,

Without some tunes, my writing would be a bust!

Happy Friday Ya'll.

What are your plans today?

with a bang or a fizzle?

National Writing Month is OVER!

I feel successful, happy, tired, disappointed, confused, brain-dead, elated and relieved! Yes, all at once. Holy Canoli! Who knew one month of writing could turn me into psych patient of Dr. House. My brain needs serious R&R. Good thing there isn't much to do this next month . . . ur, or not. 

My goal was to completely finish my book. I didn't quite get there, but I did write 60,000K total this last month. I'd like to think that I'm going to take it easy next month, but really, who am I kidding? I'm as competitive as a Survivor Contestant in the final four. 

So . . .

HOW DID YOU DO?

secret 17 of 100 . . . and updates

I'm a sneak. 

(That's the secret.)  

(But there's a little more to it.)

When I really want to write a lot, I have to get out of my house. My favorite haunt is the back-right corner of the local library beside the YA section where the chairs are soft and the windows have a picturesque view. Seriously, it's perfect. Just writing this makes me want to head for the stacks. But no worries, I'm a finisher. So let's get this thing done.

So the thing is when I'm writing, there's something else I have to have--and not just want, but really, truly, honest-to-Betsy need! 

A Coke Zero. (I'm a huge DC fan, but when it comes to writing there's something in the ZERO that get's my writing juices flowing. And when I say flowing I mean like 11K words a day.)

So the problem? 

No food or drink is allowed in the library. 

Thus the secret: I'm a sneak. 

UPDATE: I took last week off to gorge my body on food. Yeah, yeah, you probably already figured that out. Hope you had a great Thanksgiving too . . . that is, if you celebrate the holiday. But if you're like Iain from England, I hope you just had another great week of regular week stuff. 

QUESTIONS: I'm curious, where do you write best? Also, we're all sneaks sometimes, right? When are you super sneaky? And if you're really not sneaky, what did you do last week

 

secret 16 of 100.

My secret is all about my friend today.
I have this unbelievable, amazing friend who's funny and caring and smart and determined. And I can't imagine how my life would be without her. Three years ago we decided to start out on a trek together in writing. We took a class together, we started a writer's group, we attended conferences . . . and we wrote and wrote and wrote . . .

And I knew this day was coming. She trusted me not to say a thing even though it was bursting out of me in every way. But I did it, I kept my lips sealed until the day I could finally say:

My secret is: my FRIEND is going to be published. 

(Click the link to find out who I'm talking about!)

friday five.

There once was a writer who forgot how to laugh--

Too many hours by the computer and none in the bath.

While she edited on her own her heart felt pierced,

for she missed times with friends because she stank something fierce.

Of course, this poem isn't about me--I smell just fine, 

It's just I got to thinking, how I write all the time,

And days by my laptop mean there are five things I miss,

Just like the other lonely-girl-writer with the terrible pits.

Friday Five: Things Writers (or Hermits) Miss

When you think of old friends, does your throat form a lump?

It's probably 'cause you've gone too long without a chest bump.

Or maybe like "Putty" from Seinfeld you crave,

A high-five from something other than your cat, Dave.

Stuck in a scene can make you feel down on writing luck,

It's time to call a friend and see a movie that may or may not suck,

If that's not your thing, then a night out to dinner is what you need,  

There's no place like the Olive Garden because there you're like family.

If you're lonely, maybe stinky, and feeling at your wit's end,

What you're probably missing most is a game of Words With Friends!

My question to you is what do you miss?

If you had three extra hours a day what would be on your list?

Famous. Or something like it.

He he! Today is the coolest day in the world. Chantele Sedgwick interviewed me on her very cool blog. Please head over and check it out:

MY WRITING BUG by Chantele Sedgwick

writing inspiration - quotes

I was reading a blog the other day where the author mentioned she liked to find quotes that summarized her main character. (Please forgive me for forgetting which one. Nano has taken my brain and mashed it and then thrown it in the garbage disposal.) Ingenious, right? 

So I set out to find one for mine, Costa. She's strong. She's a spy. So I thought this worked perfectly:

Then I started thinking, what quote would describe me best. Considering this month, and the writing frustrations I keep slamming into, this quote seemed perfect:

It seems the more I write and stress, the more problems I create. Do you do that too? Are you an over writer or an under writer?
So when I was about to pull out my hair, I came across this quote:

Frankly 50K words in one month is practically impossible. But maybe not. 

Are you doing nano? If so, how's that going for you?

If not, what type of writer are you? 

secret 15 of 100

My secret is when I was fifteen I acquired the nickname "Whiskers" for about a year.

Back then, I sometimes felt like this applied to me:

One particular morning, after a late night hanging with friends, I had the hardest time waking up. Shocking, I know. When I managed to get up and walk into the bathroom, I looked like DEATH. Kind of like my example pic.
No time to shower, I hurried and washed my face, put on some makeup . . . and when that didn't help the look much, I curled my hair.

While curling my bangs, the iron slipped from tired fingers and landed on my cheek. Basically, curling iron plus tired me, meant complete and total humiliation. I went to school that day with a 1 inch curling iron barrel roll across my right cheek. Nothing I did with my hair hid that hideous purple-brown mark.

My snarky history teacher had to say something. "Erin, whoever you've been making out with needs to shave, because that's a nasty whisker burn."

People laughed. I wanted to die.

Hence, the nickname whiskers.

11-11-11

In light of 11-11-11, I'll not be entertaining you with Friday's five fantastically fabulous poems.

Instead, I'm aiming to write 11,1111 words today. So in respect of 11-11-11, here's a different type of post for the day.

11 things I'm grateful for:

1. Mark. He's a wonderfully, kind and loving hubby and friend.
2. Kiddos. Mostly when they're not wrecking the house. But regardless, I love them.
3. Ma and Pa. The best parents ever. Even when I'm not the best daughter.
4. Friends. Walls that I lean on probably too much.
5. Music. I-tunes junkie. Anyone check out Kaskade's new album yet? Seriously addicted.
6. Movies. Preferably at the dollar theater in PG.
7. Books. They are my crack and the PG Library is my supplier.
8. Shoes. Imelda ain't got nothing on me.
9. Cameras. I hope to one day capture a scene so inspiring it leaves me breathless.
10. Jesus. Because he's everything.

11. You...(Yes, if you came to my blog earlier, you can see I just added this. I guess that would mean I'm grateful that I have friends that let me know of my mistakes. And I'm grateful that my brain works 10 out of 11 times).

What are you grateful for today?

Opinions needed: first impressions

At first, I was like, that's a weird looking loaf of raisin bread.
I'll come back to the freaky bread in a minute. It ties in to my point for the day.

For me, one of the greatest payoffs for investing time in a novel or series is when there's a discovery in character. Like when you find out Mr. Rogers isn't just a nice old man in a cardigan (Ok, maybe he is . . .bad example). But, think of Snape. Not such a bad guy. Or Noah (The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer. If you haven't read this yet, drop what you're doing and get to it.)
Of course this isn't something new. Writers have been doing it for ages, creating red herrings to lead the MC (and the reader) astray.

Now back to the bread. If you haven't stared at the picture long enough to figure out why it looks freaky, try again. What do you see now?

It's not a loaf of raisin bread at all. It's a pug (dog).

The point is, first impressions can and sometimes should give false impressions. (Like the bread dog).
As a writer, I do this often. I lead my main character astray by allowing her to believe other characters follow hard and fast rules. When really they don't.

Question of the Day: How often do you use red-herrings. Or characters that are like the bread-dog? When do you reveal their true identity?

Writing Inspiration - quotes

I love a good quote. Sometimes it's just the inspiration I need to push myself forward, or it gives me something to think about concerning the character I'm writing. Inspiration towards writing can come from many forms. Whenever I'm out stalking blogs or spending hours on fb, I make a point of writing down any quote that stands out to me. 

So for Tuesday's inspiration I thought I'd share one of my favorites:

My attitude is that if you push me towards something that you think is a weakness, then I will turn that perceived weakness into a strength.

-Michael Jordan
(Taken from: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/attitude.html#ixzz1d7tdfQXV)

I love his endurance and drive to be more. To fight whatever is holding him back and turn the tables on whoever is bringing him down. My main character has this same sort of determination, and today this quote is exactly what I needed.


Do you have any favorite quotes? Please share! Or at least tell me what inspires you this week?

secret 14 of 100

Sometimes the crap hits the fan. (Not the secret, just fact of life.)

For me, this happened last week. My awesome hubby got laid off. (Also not the secret, at least not mine.)

That's part of why I was MIA for days. Frankly, that stress plus a few of my own insecurities led me into a bit of a downward spiral. It took quite a few nudges from some great writing buddies to see the bright side of things.
It was during a conversation with Jessie from B-Word that I remembered an old motto of mine.
When I was eleven, I was pudgy, kids made fun of me, and I lived on an Air Force Base in California. Back then, each home had a plaque with the resident's name and rank posted on an exterior wall.
After a bad day at school, I needed some escape. I went on a bike ride with my sister and friend. I loved to read last names. Two blocks from my home, a name plaque made me stop in my tracks.

Crap.

Yep, that's right. The last name of the unfortunate family was Crap. Right then and there I adopted a new motto. Life could be worse, I could be a Crap.
That motto got me through a particularly sucky year of middle school. My sister and I came up with lots of Crap jokes, and just passing by the house left me gasping in laughter. Now that I think about it, it's kind of horrible for me to make fun of people as unfortunate as the Craps.
So I suppose you could say my secret is: I sometimes lift myself by poking fun of others.
Or on a more positive note, my secret could be: I'm doing great this week because at least I'm not a Crap!