Unearthly deleted scene

I thought it might be time to reveal one of UNEARTHLY's many deleted scenes. Most of these scenes were cut because of a single big change in the story: originally I had Clara and her family move to Jackson in August, just before the school year began. So I wrote about Homecoming week--and I based what they did on JHHS' actual homecoming week activities, culminating with the Powderpuff game and the Homecoming dance. Clara sets Wendy up for a date with King Brady from her history class. Clara herself gets asked to the dance by Jason Lovett.

My editor thought, and rightly so, that August to the next August was just too long a time to pass between when Clara arrives in Jackson and when the fire actually takes place. So she suggested that I have the Gardners move to Jackson in January. She also thought (and again, totally right!) that there shouldn't be two formal dances in the book.

So I rewrote the entire beginning of my book to take place in winter. And I cut Homecoming Week and the dance, and ended up cutting an entire side-story where Wendy starts dating the captain of the football team and ends up breaking up with him. Poor Wendy. In my editor's words, "Wendy always gets shafted." Her scenes so often get cut.

So, without further ado, here is the Powderpuff game, two entire scenes with Wendy that ended up on the cutting room floor. Enjoy.

*****
UNEARTHLY, first draft, Powderpuff game

Wednesday after school, Wendy hunted me down in the girl’s locker room to tell me the shocking news: she’d been asked to the Homecoming dance by Brady Hunt!

“Wow,” I said, watching her face carefully.  “I guess you’re going to need my dress.”

“Yes, please,” she said.  Her smile was genuinely happy.

 So Tucker hadn’t narced on me.

“I still have the potato and the needle, if you change your mind about the earrings,” I teased.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Whoa, I was only kidding,” I said.

“It’s just, I didn’t even know that he’d noticed me,” she said.  “It’s weird.”

“Never look a gift date in the mouth,” I said.  I pulled a bright orange football jersey over my head.  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into playing football.”

“The Powderpuff game is only once a year,” she said.  “It’s fun.  Wait until you see the boys dressed up like cheerleaders.”

I had to admit that sounded funny.

“But don’t expect me to do much,” I said.  “I don’t know anything about football.”

“It’s not hard,” she said, as if she hadn’t grown up watching football.  I’d watched exactly one football game in my life, one of Jeffrey’s back in California.  Mom and I had both been hopelessly confused about when to cheer.  Being strong and fast wouldn’t help me play this game if I didn’t understand the rules. 

“Tucker’s not a cheerleader, is he?” I asked.

Wendy snorted.

“No way.  He’s out of town with the rodeo team.”

That, at least, was good news.

“Come here,” she said, grinning.  She smeared two black lines across my cheeks, then laughed.

“You’re one mean running back,” she said, dragging me over to the mirror.  My hair chose that moment to slip out of its ponytail.  I blew a strand out of my face.

“Kay Patterson’s knees will be quaking with fear when she sees us,” said Wendy.

“We’re playing against Kay?”

“Yep,” she said.  “She’s on the black team.”

I grinned at Wendy, reached for the black face paint to mark her cheeks.

“Bring it on,” I said.

#

Christian was a cheerleader.  When he came out onto the football field with the other boys he was wearing a tiny white tank top with a makeshift JHHS written on the front in marker, and an orange and black cheer skirt, unzipped in the back because it obviously didn’t fit.  Someone had pinned the front of his hair to the side like bangs, and I’m pretty sure he was wearing lipstick.

Somehow, he still managed to look hot.

In spite of the fact that I didn’t have any idea what I was doing, I had fun.  I took the ball when it was passed to me, threw it to my teammates when I saw an opening, jogged around where they seemed to want me to go, tried to tag the other side when they had the ball.  I didn’t run too fast, or try too hard.  My mom was watching, after all.  I could hear her cheers from the sidelines.

It was all going well until the fourth quarter, when we started to lose the game.  I wouldn’t have really cared about that except that Kay was so happily winning.  She always seemed to have the ball, always seemed to be doing exactly the right thing.  She looked amazing, cheeks flushed, hair dangling in one long, looped curl from her ponytail, eyes bright with victory.  Not to mention that every time she made the tiniest little move, I could hear Christian cheering like she’d won the World Series or something. 

It shouldn’t be legal, I thought, for anyone to be that perfect.

It would get on any girl’s nerves.

Then she actually tackled Wendy during a pass.

Whistles blew, and one of the coaches yelled a warning to Kay.

“Hey,” I protested, running up to help Wendy to her feet.  “I thought this was tag football, not tackle.”

“Sorry,” said Kay lightly.  “I forgot.”
               
“Don’t worry, I’m tough,” panted Wendy.  But Kay didn’t hear her.  She was already running down the field.  Wendy looked at me and shrugged and gave this pathetic little smile, and I kind of lost my head.  I’d show her a tackle.  On the next play, I made certain to knock Kay down just hard enough to knock the wind out of her for a minute.  Of course she was furious, but too breathless to make a fuss about it yet. 

Then something unexpected happened. 

Somebody shouted my name.  I turned.

Suddenly I had the ball in my hands.  I looked up, startled, right into Kay’s brown eyes.

Wouldn’t it be great, I thought, if I could just win this game right now?  Leave Kay in the dust, for once?

The clock was about to run out.  I glanced toward the end of the field.  It didn’t seem too far away.  There was a clear path, if I ran fast enough.

And I knew I could run fast enough.

I dodged Kay easily and then sprinted down the field.  It seemed like everyone from both teams was running toward me.  The crowd began to cheer wildly.  Even the girls on the other team were screaming.

I stretched my legs and ran, tucking the ball under my arm the way I had seen Jeffrey do it that one time.  The rest of the world slowed down.  I could feel the crisp fall air on my face.  My hair was out of its ponytail again and trailing behind me.  The grass under my feet smelled freshly cut.  The mountains in the background glowed a peachy gold, lit by the setting sun. 

I was over the goal line.  The noise from the crowd peaked in a big surge.  Everyone was standing on their feet, shouting.

So this is what it feels like when Jeffrey wins a game.  Not bad.  I was starting to understand why he did it, why he refused to be anything but spectacular.  It was a great, superior feeling.

Then I saw Kay’s face as she ran up the field toward me, and I knew immediately that something was wrong.  She was smiling.  Not just any smile, but a full, gloaty, victorious sort of smile.  I looked around for Wendy.  I spotted her much farther back, standing with her arms hanging limply by her sides, staring at me with an expression I didn’t understand.

I hadn’t run that fast, had I?  So fast that I was suddenly freaking everybody out?

I spun around, looking from face to face.  The girls in the orange shirts, my teammates, were looking at me in disbelief, shaking their heads.  The girls in the black shirts were laughing.

I looked to the bleachers where the crowd was still standing.  Jeffrey was laughing, clutching at his sides like some stupid cartoon character.  Mom’s mouth set in a thin, disapproving line.  I saw Christian, Christian in his cheerleader getup, running toward Kay on the field.  He reached her, shouted something, and then lifted her up and spun her around in the air. 

He was laughing too. 

In a flash I understood what I had done.

I had run in the wrong direction.  I had just scored, all right.  For the opposing team.  I’d lost the game.

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.  I stared at the football in my hands, then let it drop from my fingertips.  It bounced away on the grass.  I looked again for Wendy but she was walking away, they all were, my entire team walking off the field toward the school. 

I couldn’t go back to the locker room now.  Maybe not ever.  I looked up into the stands and met Mom’s eyes.  She grabbed Jeffrey by the arm and started to tow him toward the parking lot.

I needed to get out of there.  I forced myself to walk slowly off the field, keeping my head down.  I didn’t know where Mom had parked so I just picked a row of cars and started to wander down it.  My vision blurred.

Mom pulled the car up next to me.  I got into the back seat.

“Seat belt,” she murmured.

I fumbled with the seatbelt, finally heard it click, then slumped down and turned my back to the window.

Jeffrey coughed to cover a laugh.

“A little sensitivity please, Jeffrey,” said Mom in a low voice.

“It’s okay,” I said.  “Let him laugh.”

Someone knocked on the car door from the outside, startling me.  It was Wendy, still in her orange jersey, a big grass stain on the front from when Kay had tackled her.  I hesitated for a few seconds.  Then I rolled the window down.  I wanted to tell her I was sorry, but the second I opened my mouth to speak a huge lump rose in my throat.  To my horror I started to cry.

“Hey,” she said, reaching through the window and touching me on the shoulder.

I shook my head.

“It’s all right,” she said.  “It’s just a game.”

I nodded miserably.

“I guess I’ll be the last one picked in P.E. from now on,” I tried to joke in a shaky voice.

She laughed.  Invisible or not, she was a true friend.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.  She stepped back, and Mom drove away from the school.  I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Christian had run to Kay and lifted her up like that, twirled her around and set her down again, smiled at her like he was about to kiss her.  Both of them still laughing at me.

That did it.  I was definitely never going back to school.

*****
The next scene, I will mention, she was back at school. Hee hee.

Wow. Reading that over again today I am struck by a lot of things. Like wow, that was a long time ago. Unearthly has changed so much since then! I've changed so much as a writer since then that it reads a bit primitive to me now.

Cavewoman Cynthia writes football scene. *grunts.

But seriously. It amazes me how the simple act of writing and revising can change you from the inside out.

You might have noticed that the book was in past tense back then. About halfway through the revision process I decided to shift it all over to present tense (and you can't simply "shift" a book from one tense to another--you must, then, almost completely rewrite it, argh, but it was so worth it), because I liked the rhythm of the language better in present. It felt more immediate, and, because it was more immediate, I didn't have to worry about what Clara knew and didn't know at the time of the telling. (I could explain this more but it would wreck some stuff for Hallowed, sorry). I could simply be with Clara in the moment.

Another thing I'm struck by is how much Clara changed in that process. My editor and I were working, working, working to make Clara stronger as a character. Not that I think it makes Clara a real loser because she runs the wrong way during a football game (this idea stemmed from a particularly painful experience I had in fifth grade during a basketball game that pretty much squashed the idea of me ever playing competitive sports ever again. . .) but I don't see her strength in this scene. I only see her struggling.

All that aside, I still think it's a pretty cool scene. Wendy rocks. Poor, poor Wendy, always gets cut.

And there's Christian dressed as a cheerleader. Can't forget that.

On the Fourth of July and how dirty rotten piraters stole my air conditioning. . .

July 4 is my favorite holiday of the year, for a number of reasons:

1) parades. I dig parades.

Me waiting for the parade, in my riduculous hat, which proves that you can take the hick out of Idaho, but you can't take Idaho out of the hick.

2) dressing up in fun-but-casual red, white and blue clothes

My DD is her 4th outfit, which even she thought was pretty fun. . .

3) good food, but not the kind where you have to slave all day in the kitchen to prepare

DS getting ready to chow down on corn. We also had BBQd ribs and homemade potato salad

4) summer--nice weather and crickets singing and cool breezes blowing and starry nights

5) fireworks. I REALLY dig fireworks, and I also love sparklers!

6) the movie 1776, which I endeavor to watch every year on the fouth of July. I always get a chill at the end where they are all signing the Declaration and then step into their place in the painting. . .



(this clip is not the signing part, but this really funny song about how the national bird was chosen).

And finally, reason 7) because it's an exciting day that you get to spend with family. Some years it's more exciting than others--just ask my Uncle Kim about the time my dad pointed one of those firecracker cannons at him. (On second thought, don't ask him--sorry about your pants, Uncle Kim. . .), some years somebody gets lit on fire or eats WAAAAAAY too much watermelon, but there's always togetherness, as a country and as a family. I like that. And there's always a moment of beauty.

This year my moment of beauty was sitting in my backyard in a lawn chair, my dear little baby snuggled up into my chest, seeing her wide, wide eyes as she watched her very first fireworks.

Le sigh. LOVE the 4th of July.

This year it was also slightly problematic that the 4th was on a Monday, and I had my very last round of revisions for Hallowed due on Tuesday at like 6am. So I had to fit all my parading and dressing up and cooking into much smaller time slots, and then ended up staying up until 2am revising like a madwoman, up again at 4:30 with the baby and right back to revising until 6. I had that "Idiot. I can't believe you did that" message from my body all the next day, but it was worth it. I got to have my Independence Day, and now HALLOWED IS OFFICIALLY IN PRODUCTION. Which means:

FREEEEEEEEEEDOMMMMMM!!!!  I am done (okay, there will be copy edits, but that's not real hard) with Book 2. Finally! And now I am free to work on Book 3. (doing the dance of joy!)

Ahem. Anyway. How lucky am I that I get to do what I love, which is to write new books. I love my job.

There's a roadblock to all my creativity, however. It's called July. In Southern California. In a house with no air conditioner. Yesterday it was 87 degrees in the house when I sat down to write. Under these conditions, what typically comes off my fingertips is: Wow. Hot. So unbelievably hot. I need a cool drink. I need a cool shower. I need to drive to the store to buy something bogus so I can be in the cool car and the cool store. Bleh. I'M MELTING, what a world, what a world. . .

Yeah, it's not that productive.

But Cynthia, you say, weren't you complaining about this last year? Aren't you some hot-shot author now, with your book selling like hotcakes? Why haven't you bought an air conditioner?

Well, see. That's a funny story. Part of it is California's fault. That's right, CA, I'm looking at you. What it costs to buy a house in you is simply ludicrous. I could have 2 nice brand-new houses in Idaho for what we are paying for a almost-completely-unrenovated-since-1961 house in southern California. Pbbt, California. But I'm not complaining too much, since me selling Unearthly is what gave our family the ability to buy a home here. Otherwise, even though my husband has a great job, even though I teach to supplement our income, we simply could not have afforded to buy a house. And I love our house. But it doesn't have the frills. Like AC.

Shame on you, California. Shame. But I do love your beaches.

The other part of the blame lies with piraters.

Now, I say "piraters," as opposed to "pirates," because as the mother of a four-year-old boy I am obligated to think that pirates, the type with the eye patch and the shoulder parrot and the black flag with the skull and crossbones are awesome. I play the role of Captain Hook at least once a day, and my son is of course Mister Smee, and I've found that he listens to what I tell him to do way better if I phrase it like, "ARGHH, matey, methinks you should eat up all your waffle, otherwise I'll be forced to plunder it. . ."

Piraters are people who download free (illegal) copies of my book.

So not awesome.

Now, if you are one of those people who thinks it's okay to steal books, I will refer to you to Lilith Saintcrow's blog post on this subject. It has some spicy language, so be warned.

Right here.

I adore Lilith Saintcrow. Strange Angels kicks butt. And her blog is hi-larious. I am regularly stricken with writerly envy over her copious and amusing blog posts.

And on the subject of piracy, I agree with her one hundred percent.

I never thought so much about piracy until I became a published author. Sure, I'd heard of it. It wasn't something I'd ever dream of doing any more than I'd try to slip in the back door of a movie theater for a free movie or pocket a candy bar in a convenience store. My momma done taught me that's WRONG. But it really came to my attention when my own book started to be pirated.

The first time, it was a question on one of those question-and-answer websites, some girl asking where she could find my book for free. I felt obligated to respond. I said that I hoped that no one would help her to steal my book, but if she would provide the name of her local library, I would gladly send them a copy. She, of course, didn't reply.

Then I signed up for Google Alerts. Every morning I get a nice email from Google that tells me what Unearthly-related stuff has popped up on the web. Most of the time it comes up with reviews, and most of the time the reviews are nice (there's a blog post coming about why I should stop reading the reviews, and possibly why I should stop with the Google alerts--that's another day), but every now and then up pops a site that offers my book for free.

One such site, a few days ago, claimed that my book had been downloaded over 7,000 times.

7,000 times???!!! I thought. Holy crapzol.

Indeed.

Here's where the math comes in. I have had numerous estimates done on installing central air conditioning in our house. The lowest is 12,000 (yes, 12,000 US dollars, darn you California) and that was a rather seedy guy who, when I asked if that included the price for permits was like, "permits? you sure you want permits?" The highest was upwards of 20,000. Yes, 20,000 smackers. I know. Crazy.

I'm planning on 14,000-15,000.

You see where I'm going with this. On the hard copy of my book, I make about $2 for every book sold. If everyone who illegally downloaded a copy of my book actually bought a hard copy, I would make $14,000. (Of course, my agent gets 15% and I save about half of what I earn for taxes, but let's say for argument's sake that I just make that money.) That's 14,000 US dollars, people.

That's my air conditioner.

Pirating is not cool.

Now, before I get flooded with indignant emails/comments telling me how I've over-simplified this scenario on a massive scale, or how I shouldn't be writing for money but out of the sheer bliss of being a writer, or any of the other dumb-but-persistent things people say to justify themselves in this situation, I will simply say this: I don't write for the money. I write because I love it. But I also believe that I deserve to get paid for what I do, and I believe that pirating is STEALING. And my point in all of this is that, so often, people think that the little bad things they do, like slipping in the back of a movie theater or swiping a candy bar from a convenience store, don't really hurt anybody. It's not going to bring down Universal Pictures or Hershey, right?

Pirating my book is not going to bring down HarperCollins. But it does, in a very real way, hurt me.

I'll get my air conditioner someday. I'm thinking it will probably be next spring before I have enough money to fork over that much for an air conditioner. But for now, today, as I sit down to start work on Book 3, I will merely say, "curse those dirty rotten piraters!!!"

I need a popsicle.

Cover Reveal

Yay! I get to reveal the cover for Hallowed!

I woke up this morning to discover that the cover had been loaded to Goodreads and was floating all over the web, which is kind of a bummer, since usually these cover reveals are a big deal and the publisher very carefully times when you can reveal them. :( No idea how it leaked out, but it leaked, so now I've been given the green light to show you all!

Yay! I get to reveal the cover!!!

So here it is:

Of course it will be all silvery and shiny like the UNEARTHLY cover was, so this image won't really do it justice. And it's blue this time. I will have to get me some blue sharpies.

I love it.

Mountains and lake in the background. Pretty cloudbursts. Pretty girl. Pretty swirly lettering with a feather.

Love.

Hope you love it too!

O Wondrous Night

Yesterday I finished up the next round of edits for HALLOWED, which means that we're getting very close to having the book ready to send to production. Whew. This book has been a doozy to write, let me tell you, but of course it's totally been worth all the long hours, tears, and contractions (there was a time in February where I was having major Braxton Hicks contractions while I was trying to finish that round of edits, and they stopped pretty much as soon as I sent the draft off to my editor. Clearly I was stressed. . .).

There's a reason why writers talk in hushed voices about the terror of writing the sophomore novel.

For me, writing the second book was an entirely different experience than writing the first one. With Unearthly I spent every day for six months at my computer (generally during my son's naptime), moving along at the average pace of 800 words a day. It grew slowly, and I started nearly every writing session by circling back over what I had already written, revising as I went.

With Hallowed I didn't have anywhere near that kind of leisure. I was pregnant. Teaching two classes at Pepperdine. Working on marketing and promotional stuff for Unearthly. And running after my four year old, who no longer took his nap. To top it off, my husband had to go out of town for almost a month during the summer! It's no surprise that, under these conditions, the writing didn't exactly flow out of me the way it did when I wrote Unearthly.

During that time I wrote the following email to my agent. The subject line was : One of those nights! Woohoo!

I thought I'd share it now:
So, last night. Very hot. No AC. Been feeling horrid all day (see: hot, no AC, terrible stomach with no desire to eat anything, which only leads the stomach to become more terrible) then actually veered the car over 2 lanes when I saw the $2 sign for biscuit and gravy at Denny's. Haven't eaten at a Denny's in possibly more than 10 years. Ate the $2 biscuits and gravy, which was fine, but very Denny's quality. Drove to grocery store, bought sausage and milk to make my own biscuits and gravy. Came home. Really freaking hot in the house. Too hot to cook. Tried to write. Will's in daycare, which means I really MUST write, otherwise it is wasted money. Tried for a couple of hours to write. Like pulling teeth. Miserable. Finally went to see Inception (which I liked btw) just to cool off. Went and bought two huge fans. Picked up Will. Spent evening putting together the fans. Still too hot to cook. We ate cereal for dinner. No real writing done all day. Feeling failure stifling me like the heat. Still lately my writing has been uninspired, work, not play. Been feeling panicky about it, like can I do this? In such a short space? Pregnant and cloudy-headed and sick all the time and exhausted by 2pm? Why will this book 2 come not to me?!!!! How can a little life form the size of a pencil eraser be playing such havoc on my body?!!! Why now? Clearly casting around for a metaphorical paper bag to breathe into.

So, in essence, horrid day.

Fast forward to 2am, one of the big fans blowing directly over my bed. Woke to a huge crash outside my open window. Completely terrified, clutching baseball bat by the bed, cursing stupid insensitive husband who thought it was a great idea to leave his pregnant wife home alone. Crashing outside continues. Turns out to be a possum? Raccoon? Some large creature eating the plums out of our plum tree. I can actually hear munching.

I wait to fall back to sleep. Munching creature. Fan that sounds like an airplane taking off.

And then:

tidal wave of book 2 inspiration. I turn on the light, grab notebook by the bed, and write what turns out to be about 15 handwritten pages of notes. It just comes pouring out, complete with dialogue in places. A totally improved arc for almost the entire book, all the way to a few scenes before the end. So, in essence, an outline of the book, scene by scene, sometimes coming in order, sometimes not, but understanding completely how it all weaves together: Clara, Christian, Maggie, Jeffrey, Angela, Tucker, Wendy, even a bit of Kay. Kept going back to bed and having to reach over and turn on the light again to write just one more thing. And one more thing. And one more thing. Then laid in bed for an hour just wanting to write it all out, get it ALL on paper as quickly as possible.

Marvelous night! O wondrous night!

This morning: thrashed of course. Exhausted feeling in my stomach. Need to take Will off to tee-ball.

But first I'm going to make us some biscuits and gravy.

Looking back, I honestly don't know how I made it through, except that I was determined to keep writing. And that's the lesson I get out of all of us. Sometimes it's not easy. But keep at it, keep jumping over your obstacles, and the magic will hit you when you least expect it.

Such is the mystery of writing.

Now I'm going to go play me some video games, for the one-whole-day I'm going to allow myself to simply waste my brain power before I start working on Book 3 (which I am totally excited to get to, btw!)

And, in you live near San Diego, come to my signing at the Mysterious Galaxy bookstore at 2pm on Saturday. I'll be there with Timothy Power and Greg Van Eekhout kicking off the Summer Reading for Teens and Tweens.

What color is Clara's hair, anyway?!

So some of you may of seen the UK cover floating around the internet. It's beautiful, ethereal and provoking, I think, but when I first saw it some months ago, it kind of made me laugh. I've had four covers designed for Unearthly, and each one shows Clara with a different hair color! This kind of makes sense, since in the book, Clara is a blonde but dyes her hair (disasterously, I might add) to red in Chapter 2. But now I have them all.

Check it out:

Clara as a platinum blonde, in the UK.

Then there's:

Clara as a red-head. What I love most about this one is the orange, smoky forest. And, of course, the dress.

Then we have:

Clara in purple. Ha ha. Okay, so we can't quite tell what color her hair is, but she seems to me like a brunette. (That and I know the model has brown hair. . .)

And finally:

The raven-haired Portuguese Clara. I was drinking a glass of milk when my husband showed me this cover, and I literally spit milk all over the counter. It's a cool cover, that I will give it, but Clara was showing a bit more skin than I expected. Hee hee. My husband reminded me that everything is more exciting in Portugal.

So, what do you think? Which model seems the most like Clara to you?

I am waiting with bated breath to see what they come up with for the Hallowed cover.

In other news, Unearthly is coming to ebook (yes, I mentioned this before) on April 19, so just a few days now! You can pre-order it from Amazon here.

And it will be available in the UK on May 2. Woohoo! I got my box of UK editions this week, and I am completely charmed by the way they changed the word "Mom" to "Mum," as in "I find Mum standing at the kitchen stove. . ." Love it.

And tomorrow (takes deep breath) I am showing my face to the public again, at least in the authorial sense. I am thrilled to be taking part in the Ontario City Library Teen Book Fest in Ontario, CA along with Katie Alender, Nancy Holder, Alyson Noel, and Marlene Perez from 1-4 pm. There will be a question and answer session and a book signing, so if you live nearby, come by and see me! I will also (takes another deep breath) have my baby girl Maddie with me, as she does pretty well strapped to my chest (I taught my novel-writing class with her in a carrier on Wednesday, and she was fabulous and quiet and just looked at my students all perplexed while they cooed at her).

Cross your fingers for me that she cooperates this time.

Ebook and Live chat today

So, big news! The ebook of Unearthly will be released on April 19! This is me SHOUTING it from the rooftops!!!! You can pre-order your copy on Nook here. Woohoo!

Ironically, this week my Kindle bit the dust. It's a first generation Kindle that was generously handed down from my dad's wife more than three years ago, and it has been with me through it all, including a killer rainstorm when my dad and I were out fishing one time and I seriously thought we were going to get struck by lightning, and my Kindle got soaked. It was a good, tough little Kindle. My precious. Sniffle.

So. I wasted no time in ordering a new one. There are books I NEED to read, and with a newborn it is so hard to get to the bookstore (although I have been in to Barnes and Noble with M once, and she was properly awestruck). I am sorry my old Kindle didn't live to see the day that it could house the official ebook of Unearthly. . .

Also, join me today at 5pm EST for a live chat on Inkpop.com about how to sell a trilogy to a publishing house. Here's the link to the "inktips" I gave for the event, on how to create a paranormal world, and here's the link for the chat. Yay! I love live chats!

First Things First

I've got a lot to catch up on, clearly, and some very cool news, but first things first.

I had my baby on March 7! Hence I have spent the last almost-three weeks in a cozy cocoon of new baby bliss, just getting to know my little girl Madeleine Grace (Maddie). I am still in that stage where I can't stop staring at her in disbelief of how beautiful she is. She is the most precious little chunk (she was 9 pounds when she was born, good grief!) in the world, and we are all head over heels in love with her.

She also has her days and her nights switched, so I am TI-RED. At 8pm her eyes snap open and she is ready to rock for several hours. So she and I are up in the wee hours, which is hard for me because I am so not a night owl; I am a go-to-bed-at 10, wake-up-at-6 kind of person. But all in all, we're doing great. We watch late-night TV. She's a mellow baby.

I love this phase when she stares at everything like she's astonished, her mouth this perfect little O.

Ahem. Okay, enough baby gushing.

In other news, I've been assured that the ebook release is right around the corner, any day now, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Plus, rights to Unearthly recently sold in Brazil and Hungary. Woohoo! Conquering the world!
Speaking of Unearthly out there on the shelves, a while back I promised you a video of Unearthly in the wild. I made this video (below), and I tried to put in at least one photo from every person who sent me photos in February. The key word here is "tried." For some reason, some of the photos didn't turn out--I could see them fine in the thumbnail, but when I downloaded them there was a little bit of photo at the top and then gray all the rest of the way down. This sucks, since there were some awesome photos that didn't make it in my video because of this. I will post the video as is, but if for some reason YOUR photo didn't make it in, email the photo to me again, as a jpeg of reasonable size, and I will try again and re-release the video.

I love this slideshow, btw. It makes me feel so proud and amazed every time I watch it. So, enjoy!

Make a free picture slideshow