What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have?

Am I superstitious? Definitely. I knock on wood, cross my fingers, and wish on numbers, stars, eyelashes, and really whatever I can wish on because I've got a lot to wish for. But I also have an odd reversal of a common superstition.

You see, I was born on Friday July 13... and after a thunderstorm no less. Yes, the universal lucky number, 7, and the universal unlucky number 13, are my birthday. I was once told that if you are born on Friday the 13th, it makes Friday the 13th your lucky day. I definitely took that to heart... not that I can think of a Friday the thirteenth that was particularly lucky for me... But thirteen remains my favorite number with 7 being my second favorite and I'm also partial to 17 (sold my first book on April 17), 23 (husband's birthday, though I liked that number long before that, so somehow it makes senses I married a guy born on that day), and 27 (the age that many rock stars die, but for some reason I like it)... as well as 6 since 6+7=13... Yeah I'm really weird with numbers. And strangely this made me very lucky at roulette the last time I was in Vegas. . I like to send my manuscripts into my agent or have her send them on to editors on certain days or during certain time periods that I consider lucky. I was very pleased when she submitted to my editor BALLADS OF SUBURBIA on Kurt Cobain's birthday and sure enough, it sold! Thus far we haven't been so lucky with the manuscript that went out around the time he died, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed and wishing on 11:11 and that sort of thing that I didn't curse myself. Also, even though I'm pissed I didn't meet my personal deadline to submit a manuscript to my agent today, I'm hoping I can send it on 5/7 which sounds like a good number. And back to 13. I decided to get married on 10/3 because, you guessed it 10+3= 13.

I also have 13 piercings in my ears (10 in one and 3 in the other) and if I don't have all 13 earrings in, I think it's unlucky. I used to wear all these rubber jelly bracelets. It started with 7, then became 13, and finally 27, which was kind of out of control and I didn't take them off for a couple of years so they shrunk. Then I interviewed for a more professional job and had to cut them all of. So now I have other jewelry superstitions. I have a lucky bracelet. It's got little tiny old postcard images of my favorite city, Seattle. I also have a ring that belonged to friend of mine who passed away. He was a big guy so the ring is too big for any of my fingers and I wear it on a chain instead. If I'm dressing up, I put it on a black satin ribbon, but I don't go out (other than on those minor errands where I barely brush my hair, let alone find all of my jewelry) without that ring. One night I went to my bartending job and realized that I wasn't wearing my bracelet or necklace. Seeing that there were barely any customers in the bar (BAD LUCK!), I texted my husband and insisted he bring my jewelry to me. When it comes to bartending, I also for some reason associate certain barrettes or items of clothing to luckier than others for a busy night.

I also have my rituals. I practice Nichiren Buddhism, so I chant every morning when I wake up. I wasn't raised religiously and I still consider myself an atheist. To me Buddhism is more of a philosophy, you don't pray to a higher power, you chant to find the Buddha or greatness within yourself. So that's why I try to start my day by chanting, to get myself into a positive mindset that I can do anything... though of course since I am a very superstitious and ritualistic person, I also think that if I *don't* chant, bad things will happen, which is really just silly. I mean after all, I was born on Friday the 13th, I should be a very lucky person... I'm just waiting for that luck to catch up with me!

What about you? Got any lucky numbers or other charms or rituals?

What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have...

I am having a Jan moment in which I am trying to think of totems, rituals, or superstitions...and unlike Jan, I am speaking with no (intentional) irony when I say that I don't have any.

I definitely did when I was growing up. The things other authors have listed here sound very familiar. But that was bound to end, because I am a logical person. I mean, a REALLY logical person, so logical that I'm not a lot of fun sometimes. On top of that, I taught freshman English at three different large state universities, and those classes were all about making a logical argument. If I had any whimsy left in me, teaching those classes beat it out of me. Honestly, my favorite TV show is Mythbusters!

And if that were not enough, there was the bee.

It was November 2004, a lovely crisp fall Saturday in Atlanta, where I was living at the time. We were planning a move back to Birmingham, so we were having a garage sale. The day started out great. We got rid of some bad furniture we'd been lugging around through several moves. And then the haggling started. People started coming up to me and asking if I really wanted a quarter for this baby shirt, because it had the tag cut out of it and they couldn't tell for certain what size it was, etc. I mean, PEOPLE, do not malign the merchandise at a GARAGE SALE. Come on.

So the morning wore on and my mood got pootier, and about noon I watched the post office truck stop by my mailbox and move on down the street.

Now, I will admit, at that point I was an unpublished author, and I did have some lingering superstitions about the many query letters I had out to agents--for instance, the longer I waited to check the mailbox, the more likely something good would be in there. But it had been a long morning and I could not resist, so I went down and peered inside.

There was a letter. From the agent of a huge best-selling author. I had queried this agent because at that time, the huge best-selling author had just come out with her very first book--but it was similar in style to the book I was shopping, and the author was from Atlanta like me, and I thought this author would really go places (boy was I right--her books are piled in Sam's Club right now, in my view the ultimate aim of any author).

I opened the letter.

It was a revise-and-resubmit. A rather scathing one, actually, asking me to compromise the very parts of my book that I loved the most.

I was SO DISAPPOINTED. My heart broke (again).

And as I was standing there reading it, a bee zoomed out of the mailbox, zipped down the back of my shorts, and stung me on the ass.

This was a Sign that I should stop trying.

I could have believed it. I was tempted to believe it. Believing it would have been so much easier than pursuing a career as a novelist! But I did not.

And I have not believed any Signs since. I believe only in my own hard work.

What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have?

My first reaction to this question was, “I don’t have any rituals or superstitions. What will I write about?”

The blog question was on my mind when I got up at my usual time and took my two dogs for their morning walk. Rituals? Man, I couldn’t think of a single one. While Mike and I were running, as I do every morning without fail, I asked him if he could think of any rituals I have. “Hmm. Not really.” When we arrived at home, Sassy and Gizmo were waiting at the door for the chicken treats I give them when I finish running—2 apiece, as always. Darn it! Why couldn’t I come up with anything?

While the dogs were munching at the bottom of the stairs, I double-checked my closet to make sure my outfits for the week were hanging in the order I planned to wear them. Coordinating shoes, watches, and jewelry were lined up neatly underneath, and I’d piled the week’s underwear nearby. All set there.

If only I could think of at least one ritual to write about! Maybe some brain food would help. I ate my breakfast of two kinds of cereal with skim milk, took my vitamin supplements, and left for my part-time job at exactly 7:15.

Frustrated, I decided to give up on the rituals and try for superstitions.

With luck, I’d think of something during the commute. But I made the mistake of commenting on how light the traffic was, and the next thing I knew the freeway came to a standstill. I should have known better than to jinx myself like that. When I arrived at work—late—a huge scanning job was waiting for me. As I loaded papers into the scanner I made sure never to add thirteen at a time. No sense pushing my luck. Then one of my coworkers noted that for once it wasn’t supposed to rain over the weekend. We both knocked wood, just to be certain. The best part of the day was the drive home. I hit every green light, so the package I’d been waiting for would be on my door step.

It wasn’t. Tomorrow for sure.

Okay, I don’t have any rituals or superstitions, but I have totems. If I’m facing a scary situation, I wear the gold chain my mom left me and attach the opal slide—my birthstone—Mike gave me. If I need extra luck or courage, I wear one of Mom’s watches, too. Being surrounded by love is the ultimate totem.

Hold on. I do have one superstition. I don't announce a book sale until it’s a done deal. Now that it is, I’m excited to announce that my humorous YA, ASPEN AND LAUREL DO SUMMER will be coming out next year!

Knock on wood.

What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have?

I'm pretty much as Virgo as Virgo gets. Which means I'm a ridiculous creature of habit. Which means a lot of things that might not come off as seeming superstitious probably look that way. Who knows, maybe they started out as superstitions that evolved into habits. Totems and rituals, those I have plenty of, just because, once again, creature of habit.

Anyhow, so what totems, rituals, or superstitions do I have?

I always step first with my left foot. I was in band/drum corps for so many years, it's just habit. But it feels weird if I don't do it.

I won't wear all black or all white to a wedding. Even though I know the "rules" about such things have relaxed somewhat, it was so drummed into me that it was bad juju to do so, I don't dare risk it. I'm too afraid my grandma's gonna swoop in and smack me upside the head. (Plus, someone wore white lace to my wedding and it was kind of obnoxious, so there's that, too...)

Every morning, I have to check my news sites and email while drinking my coffee. And I really, really like being left alone while I do so.

I have to write with the same kind of pen (a Pilot G-2 1.0, preferably black, although I'm also partial to purple if I can find them).

I have to have a fresh blank journal for every manuscript I start. Also, a title. Even knowing the title's going to change, I can't just call it "Story X" or leave the title blank. It twigs me monumentally.

I always have to have music going and I create a new soundtrack for every new manuscript. In fact, that's one of my measuring sticks for how developed a story idea is-- if I can create a soundtrack and have it really evoke a particular mood or characterization, I feel as if I'm really onto something and that the writing's going to go smoothly. (Or at least as smoothly as these things can ever go.)

As far as totems go, I don't have a specific one, but several and my collection keeps growing. They're generally things that I've collected or mean a lot to me or simply make me happy. I have several stuffed Opuses, dating back to my high school days, but my favorite is "Crazy Love" Opus, who's wrapped in a straitjacket printed with little hearts and lives on one of my secondary desks. Back when I thought I was going to write romances, he was my mascot. Now that I know being a romance writer is a little beyond my ken (and my Barbies, too) he's still my mascot, mostly because he represents that craziness that is going into publishing and the hearts remind me that I put up with the craziness because above all, I love to write.



On my desk and bookshelves are smaller figurines: Guido from Cars (Pit stop!) and a folk cow suspended above a house that I bought while a guest at a writing retreat in Tennessee. My agent gave me a carved rooster, since roosters are our "thing" based on a line in STARS that she said was her favorite. Then there are the "boys." My heroes (or anti-heroes, since they're not exactly the most upstanding fellows). I have Nicholas Wolfwood, from the anime Trigun. He's a bad boy renegade priest (of which I have one in my latest MS). Then there's Commander Norrington from the Pirates of the Caribbean series, but not the stuffy, white-wigged version. No, no... I have the scruffy, been beaten down by circumstance version. (I'm using Jack Davenport, who plays Norrington, as an avatar for another story.) And probably my favorite action figure: Gambit, from the X-Men. Oh, do I have myself a soft spot for gamblin' thievin' Remy Lebeau-- neat, neat character in that he's very much a loner, very much an opportunist. Doesn't display an outward loyalty to anything other than his own best interests, but often does the right thing, especially once committed to a person or group. And I have a character named Remy in a story as well.

Superstitions, maybe not so much, but totems and rituals are definitely part of this Very Virgo personality.

What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have?"

I also think this is such a fun topic and if I were writing about my grandmother, I could go on forever. Granny never let us open an umbrella in the house, put our handbags on the floor or walk under a ladder just to name a few. I think about her whenever I do these things and often feel guilty if I put my bag on the floor so I move it after a few minutes!

So here's what I do, do:

1. If my clock every reads 11:11, I make a wish.

2. I also make wishes on eyelashes and have my kids do the same.

3. As a kid I recited the alphabet while turning the stem of an apple and whatever letter I was on when the stem came loose, was the boy that I was "supposed" to date.

4. I like to sleep with the overhead fan on and one leg out of my comforter. When I was sleeping over my cousin, Mandy's house when I was about nine, she told me that that was the best way to sleep and I guess she was right.

5. I never write in a book unless it's to sign one. Even in college I wrote my notes on a separate sheet of paper.

6. In high school my friend, Nell and I decided to keep a sacred M & M in a beautiful small Chinese box that I was given for my Bat Mitzvah. All was fine until my dog Lady ate the sacred M & M.

This topic definitely lends itself well for character development when writing a novel. Can't wait to hear what everyone else has to say about their totems. rituals or superstitions.

What totems, rituals, or superstitions do you have?

I LOVE this question!! One oddity immediately came to mind, and then a second, and then more. So here I go:

1. Ritual. When pumping gas I have to stop on the zeros - as in $29.00 or $32.00. So I'll say something like, "If I stop on the zeros then...(fill in the blank, for example, "The next lottery ticket I buy will be a winner")." It's a little bargaining thing I do, and it's hard. I can't slow down to make it happen, I just start counting when I get to .50 and then try to hit the timing right. And once I stop I can't start again, it's either under, over, or right on. And rarely right on. But when it is I get happy. It's so stupid.

2. Superstition. I won't pick up a penny unless it's heads up. A tails up penny is bad luck, so I won't risk it.

3. Ritual. I always wish on the first star I see in the sky, and I always recite, "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might have the wish I wish tonight."

4. Superstition. I once read that you shouldn't say "I wish..." when wishing on a star because then what you're really wishing for is a wish (so, for example, if you say, "I wish I'd win the lottery" then your wish will come true, you will continue to wish to win the lottery). Instead you should say, "I will win the lottery." So when I make my wishes on stars I don't say, "I wish..." I just say what it is I'd like to come true.

5. Superstition/Ritual. My two best friends and I get our tarrot cards read at a place called the Tremont Tea Room. We do it about once a year and it's so much fun. So much of what we've been told has come true. And just in case you're a non-believer: we went our junior year of college for the first time. I had my tea leaves read. The person asked me who Joe was. I was like, what? She showed me how the tea leaves spelled out Joe inside the cup, and I swear they really did. He was my boyfriend. She also told me that she saw me writing beside a very large lake. There was a lake on my college campus but I'd never written beside it. I forgot about it. Until 11 years later when I was writing my first book, sitting in my condo overlooking Lake Michigan. And I once had past life regression done in Chicago. The woman told me that in a former life I lived in Greenland and my child drowned and it's made me stay away from water. Well, I don't like the water, never go in the ocean (pretty much because it's cold, but also because I wonder what's crawling around my toes). There was no way this woman could have known that, for all she knew I was a lifeguard who used to be on a swimteam. I could go on and on and on. It's so much fun.

I think that's it! If I think of more, I'll post later.

Free-spirited adventures in Seattle with my BFFs (a photo blog, of course)

When I travel or have anything big going on in my life, I like to do a photo blog to catch up with my friends and readers. (For example, here's a photo blog about my spring projects. Here is the beginning of a week's worth of wedding photo blogs. And my five-part I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE tour photo recap begins here.) I also partially do it as a scrapbook. I don't journal or put together photo albums the way I used to even though I never thought I'd let the digital version of those activities dominate my life so much. But it has. I guess that's why blogging is really personal for me and why my entries get so long and in depth sometimes... and why sometimes I feel like I go on streaks where I don't have anything to blog about because either interesting is going on or I have to remind myself that my blog is not my diary and I probably shouldn't share everything (though I'm terrible about that actually. You'll find me complaining about my cat's diarrhea problems quite a bit lately on twitter. Sorry about the TMI.)

Last week I was on my annual Seattle trip. In case you haven't heard, I am absolutely in love with Seattle and until I can afford to move there (like one of my lucky lucky fellow MTV Books authors who just got seriously the most gorgeous cover ever for her forthcoming book WHEN THE STARS GO BLUE. Seriously how eye-popping is that cover!!!), I visit once a year. Oh yeah and last year there was a photo blog for that....

This year something about the trip felt different, like I wasn't sure how I was going to blog about it or even what to tell people about my trip. I've been to Seattle so many times I know exactly where I want to visit (Pike Place Market every morning for either fresh fruit or a vegan cinnamon roll; Capitol Hill, the U-District, and Ballard for shopping; The Central, The Comet, and Nite Lite for drinks; Bamboo Garden, Araya's, Mama's Kitchen, and Roy's for dinner; and of course Viretta Park or the we fondly call it, Kurt's Park, the park next to the house where Kurt Cobain killed himself that is like an unofficial memorial site to him) and though I always find new adventures (this year we went to the Washington Arboretum, the Museum of History and Industry, the Japanese Tea Garden, and checked out the Georgetown neighborhood which led to more must-visit eating and drinking spots to add to my list), every time I go it feels more and more personal. Like I'm just going to hang out with an old friend (yes, I am personifying the city) and I almost don't want to talk about it, I almost can't explain the good times we had.

And this year the feeling intensified because I went with two of my best friends in the world Jenny (who does a fabulous job on my website I must say) and Eryn. We don't live in the same city so when we travel together or visit each other approximately once or twice a year that is all we see of each other. And there is something about these girls that makes me feel like I'm in high school again.... well, no, when I was in high school, I was all angsty and awful... they make me feel like how I thought high school should be, all goofy sleepovers and inside jokes. In fact it feels like our whole trip was this big inside joke about partial holidays (when I objected to a security guard saying it Easter was a national holiday because "what about separation of church and state," he said "oh uh errr it's a partial national holiday"), chickens and Martha Washington (there was an anime convention in town, people were dressed up really really strangely. A friend later told me that the chicken might have been an emu because I guess there is an emu-like creature in Final Fantasy? But I still have no explanation for Martha Washington), fashion changes and things being really intense.... like more intense than pulling your hair out of your shirt collar (I visited my friend Polly while I was in town and her three year-old daughter had some major gems that I couldn't help adopting), denim minis (I was on the quest for the perfect one) and *sigh* Asher (the artist that tattooed my friend Jenny and she totally fell in love with).

So yeah, I tell some of my other friends and husband these stories and they laugh a little, but honestly it feels like my trip was one big "you kinda had to be there" and I honestly like it that way. I had these great moments with my girl friends where I got to be totally myself and totally silly. I wasn't thinking about the writing I was struggling with (actually I had a big novel breakthrough the day before I left which helped me go in high spirits) or worrying about my writing career or my cats (in case you haven't heard, they have this ongoing case of diarrhea...).

So here are some goofy photos that probably won't make much sense, but they are proof of what a good time I had.

The shape of the fake meat at Bamboo Garden will bring out your inner fourth grader:
Denim Minis (can you guess which is mine?):
Impromptu America's Top Model style photo shoot in the building with the ATM in it...:
Until the security guard in the top right got mad and told us no photos were allowed. I guess it's a top-secret Starbucks location...


Impromptu secret dress-up session at a clothing store:
Rocking out at the Hard Rock Cafe:
Molesting Jimi Hendrix:
I know what the sign says, but we may disregard it...
Oh we can take a nice photo every once in a while:
Or we can be totally silly. We did three photo booth themes. This one was "make out":
But silliness aside, one thing we did get in tribute to our favorite city and even more importantly, our friendship, was get tattooed together.

Jenny was in love with her artist, Asher, but we didn't get a good photo:
Here I am, in the zone:
And the results, cherry blossoms for everyone:

As usual, we were sad to say goodbye to Seattle and especially to each other:
I promise a less goofy photo blog on my blog sometime soon. I did visit a really interesting place with my friend Polly, a beach where homes crashed down in a mudslide fifteen years ago and the remains are still there. It's quite surreal. So I'll have that and more tattoo pics and nature-y pics and of course the standard tourist shots like these upcoming this week:

But now that you have seen my goofy friend pictures (and probably take me wayyyyyyyy less seriously than you used to, but that's a good thing), tell me about your friends like Eryn and Jenny who make you feel like the ultimate free spirit. What kind of adventures have you had with them?

For a rainy day

It's not raining today. Here in Alabama it's sunny with a high of 82 and everything is in full blossom. And I just made a breakthrough in writing my new book.

I am a plotter at heart. I try not to be. I am a very organized person when I have time, and that's precisely the problem. If left to my own devices, I will plot and plot and plot a book and never get down to writing it.

So in the past few years, I have just started writing without knowing exactly where I'm going. But that causes me a lot of anxiety. And then, one day...the storm clouds part and the sun breaks through, and I have figured out my direction.

That is always a great moment for me. I remember where I was standing in 2005 (on my back porch) when I finally figured out why Johnafter in Going Too Far was so concerned about his bridge. That book, which had really troubled me up to that point, gave me nothing but joy the rest of the time I wrote it.

And today, I am happy to report that I've had the same sort of breakthrough on the Novel With a Title So Cool I Am Not Ready to Reveal It.

My writing career has had its ups and downs, to be sure--sometimes biggies in the same week. In fact, I was feeling really down about another book yesterday. So I'm posting my triumph and happiness here today, as a reminder for the next time I wander through a rainy day. Sometimes the sun shines and the air is perfumed with flowers.

My International Book Promotion Tour

It’s mid-April already when our thoughts turn to showers, flowers, and our yearly contributions to the IRS. And we're all trying to scrounge up enough deductions to lower our tax debt to zero dollars or less.

Listen up, all you authors, I’ve found the solution to your tax problems.

On March 31, my guy Mike and I embarked on an intensive seven-day international book promotion tour at Sandals Whitehouse in Jamaica. On our very first evening we dined with prospective buyers from such far-flung locales as Toronto, Texas, Pittsburgh, and Jamaica, naturally. As it happens, one of our dining companions was a middle school librarian. Not missing a beat, Mike told her about FAIREST OF THEM ALL. With a winning smile I recited my memorized synopsis, and she ordered a copy from Amazon that very night.

If that’s not book promotion, what is?

For the rest of the week Mike and I celebrated our success with rum cocktails and scrumptious meals interspersed with kayaking, sailing, snorkeling, reading, relaxing, and walking along the beach. As you might have guessed each activity was meticulously planned with book sales in mind.

By the end of the week I was able to report one confirmed book sale. But who can say how many more copies will sell as a result of that contact? One hundred? One thousand? Ten thousand? The potential sales are limitless!

This afternoon as I prepare my taxes, flushed with success—and sunburn—I’m confident the IRS will say, “No problem, Mahn!” when they see I’ve deducted the entire cost of my Jamaican book promotion tour. Don’t you?

And we came to the end...

Last week I received an email from a reader. She wrote, "I really enjoy writing stories and books but I'm never sure how to finish them." She asked me for advice. But you know what? I didn't really know what to tell her.

I always begin a book knowing how it starts and how it ends. It's the middles that I strugle with. Unfortunately, the middle is the majority of the book!!

I'm not a fan of hugely happy endings. The kind where everyone ends up happy and then they walk into the sunset. Because, well, that's just not real life. Even when one of my stories has a "satisfying" ending, I know there's still trouble down the road. That's just the way it is.

I tried to think of books with endings that disappointed me, but I couldn't think of any off hand. What about you? Any endings that left you wanting more? Do you like your stories wrapped up in a bow?

The things that make it all worth it

Today I received permission to go public with my new cover. The book is called WHEN THE STARS GO BLUE and it's a contemporary retelling of Bizet's CARMEN. This is the book that has had the type of journey that can make a writer both wonder why on earth we keep doing this and also revel in all the reasons we continue doing this.

In twenty-five words or less, I sold this book, then it wasn't sold anymore (insert over fifteen months of work and revisions here) then after yet more work, it finally sold again, to an editor who completely gets it, to a house that loves it, and who have all made me feel as if I matter as a writer. As writers, one of the most tangible pieces of validation we receive is our book's cover. It shows that the publisher, the editor, the art department, they're paying attention, they want the best image possible to represent the story contained within the cover.

I mean, yeah, it's about trying to get a book buyer's attention and selling lots and lots of copies, but forevermore, it's the visual representation of your book and if they don't get it right, it can feel as if no one's paying attention and you're sort of adrift, trying to explain what your book's really about.

I was exceptionally blessed with my MTV covers. Both ADIÓS and ACCENT had very evocative covers that conveyed the story. This one, though... oh boy, is this cover just absolutely perfect. It's stunningly simple, yet at the same time, there are so many little elements that call out to the story. That the cover model is so obviously Latina. The pulled back hair, speaking to the fact she's a dancer. The rose-- oh my, the rose is so very important, since a rose plays a major role within the story. The wistful, dreamy expression on her face.

Oh, it's just so, so lovely. I made noises that had dogs in Australia howling and I haven't been able to stop petting my screen because yes, I'm just that sad. *g*

Anyhow, lemme just show you...

What Jobs DId You Dream of Having as a Kid?

I thought of this question because my boys, eight and five, love talking about what they want to be when they grow up. My eight year old is adamant that he wants to be a cop and my five year old waffles between a magician, president and a fireman.

It's so cool to think that when you are a kid, you have the world before you and you can be whatever you want. So here are the things I dreamed of being as a kid, in no particular order.



1. A movie star
2. An author
3. A professional ice skater
4. A singer
5. A lawyer
6. A DJ
7. A teacher
8. A commercial maker
9. An artist
10.Clothing store owner

I really have always wanted to be a writer ever since first grade when we wrote and illustrated our own books. I still have my laminated book today--that I often share at book signings and school visits. Anyway, I loved dreaming about what I would be when I grew up and couldn't wait to start working. Eventually, I realized that I wasn't going to be a pro skater or singer but I did work as a DJ for a while and earned a master's in Marketing and Advertising. I also taught for seven years and even though I never owned a store, I worked in retail in high school and college.

I love to paint as a hobby and hope to take an art class again when the kids get older and of course, I use my lawyerly arguing skills with the kids just about every day! And okay, so I'm not a movie star, but I do hope to see one of my books up on the big screen. My dream is have a cameo role in one of my movies.

So there you have it, all my jobs and dreams along the way have made me a better writer. I do believe that experience is everything and that it really fuels your imagination!

So what did you dream of being as a kid?

What do you love most about being an author?

This is a very timely post for me because I'm in the middle of two of the most anxiety-inducing parts about being an author for me. One, my agent is sending my new projects out on submission (eeeek! cross fingers and toes for me please!) and two, the project I'm starting to distract from that anxiety is just not cooperating! I know the story and the characters but I can't seem to get it going. Ugh!

So yeah, I really need a reminder of why I love being a writer... so that I don't give up in a fit of anxiety or frustration.

There are so many things about being an author that are exciting. The whole process of watching your book go from something you scrawled in notebooks and revised many drafts of on your computer into a book, an actual real book that ends up on bookstore shelves is extremely exciting. I still get a kick every time I see it or someone tells me about seeing it on the shelf somewhere.

Meeting the authors I admire and being actually considered an equal (no, I still really am not an equal... am I?) when inside I'm a screaming fangirl is pretty awesome. As is having those authors as a support system and becoming real friends with them.

Getting offered ARCS is pretty sweet too.

And it is definitely good to know that even if I don't sell another book (oh please please please let me sell another book, though) or ever make it really big, I did the thing that I'd wanted to do since I was five, the thing that as a jaded and screwed up sixteen year old, I never thought I'd be able to do. That is very satisfying.

But as for I love most, it's definitely interacting with readers. It's those heartfelt letters that sometimes start "You probably get a million of these, but hopefully you'll still read this one..." (I don't get a million and I always always read and do my best to respond in a timely manner) and then go on to tell me how my book impacted them. I've had readers tell me that it simply opened their eyes to another world and gave them more empathy for what fellow teens may be going through. I've had older readers tell me that oh man that brought back some memories and I nailed it. And then I get the ones where I actually *helped* someone. My words, my characters, they inspired someone to get out of a bad situation, they helped someone realize they were strong and could survive the really ugly things life threw at them.

I also love doing events. Getting ready for the events I always feel so nervous and worried that no one will show up or whomever does will hate me or I'll screw something up somehow. But then I get there and the people who come to see me always make me feel better.

A few weeks ago I did a reading in Madison, Wisconsin. I did it because I wanted an excuse to visit friends up there, but I also did it because last time I was there, two girls made me feel like such a superstar, I had to go back and see them again. This is me with Chelsie and Justinne, who I met via MySpace and Chelsie's book blogging and have been my cheerleaders since I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE came out... maybe even before. that is what is awesome about book bloggers, they make you feel so welcome even before your debut.

And yes, we did intentionally pose under the sex books. We found it kind of hilarious. That is what I love about talking to the people who come to my events. They are easy to laugh with like old friends.

Another person who became a real friend to me during my IWBYJR visit to Madison was Erik Shager who is a teacher in an alternative high school program called Work and Learn. I don't do as many school visits as other YA authors and I think it's partly because my books are on the edgier side. But the cool thing about Work and Learn being a different kind of program is that I don't have to censor myself. I can just go in and tell the students my road to publishing, including all the bumps on the way. And I dunno, maybe I'm making some kind of difference or at least giving them a taste of something interesting to read. I can't tell you how psyched I was when one of the girls I met this year messaged me on facebook to tell me she'd ordered BALLADS OF SUBURBIA and was looking forward to reading it. Here I am with some of the girls from the class. Julia, the girl on the far left, added the cool text. Also pictured from left to right are Ashley, Claira, and of course me:

One high school event I was invited to this year was a day long, multi-author extravaganza called LitWorks. The kids there literally treated me like a rock star. They came right up to me, telling me how much they loved my books. I really didn't even feel worthy! You can see how much fun we had in this slideshow that the organizers put together:

Then yesterday, I got the ultimate compliment. A reader told me via Twitter that she was thinking of getting a quote from Ballads, "Secrets lead to sickness," tattooed on her! As a tattoo fanatic, well you can imagine how much that meant to me.

So thank you readers! You are definitely the best part of my job!

What do you love most about being an author?

I grew up in the 1980s, during the Cold War, under the shadow of A Nation at Risk. In school we were taught to face the front and do our own work. There may even have been an intimation that you'd better not share because people might steal it from you. Like the Russians! I functioned very well in this environment, because I'm introverted anyway. If you met me in the morning you would think I was shy. If you met me at night, when I'm tired, you would think I was a dork. Actually I like to think of myself as an American spy.

So when I finished my first novel at age 20, I never let anyone read it. I just started sending it to literary agents, and when I ran out (yes, I probably sent it to every literary agent in existence), I sent it to publishers. When it didn't sell, I wrote another novel. Wash, rinse, repeat, seven times. And though I did have literary representation for a couple of books and I got some nibbles from publishers, I never made a sale.

For book eight, I decided to do something different. I was still deathly afraid of sharing my work with anyone. But not sharing it clearly was getting me nowhere, and the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I am not a good spy.

So I joined writers' groups, both online and in person, and my life changed for the better.

It really is that simple. Writing makes you weird. Or, being weird makes you a writer. In any case, it is hard to be weird. Even the most supportive family and friends do not understand you. Introverted or not, it does you good to be around other writers, who are the only people in the world who know what you're going through. In the bad times they hold you up, and in the good times, they celebrate with you and really appreciate what you've achieved.

Here is my good time! After Going Too Far was named a finalist in the RITA last Thursday, I went to a meeting of my local writers' group, Southern Magic, on Saturday.

Here is what greeted me when I walked in the door. You may know Laura Hayden as an award-winning author of multiple genres or as the director of the RITA awards ceremony in Nashville on July 31. I know her as the president of Southern Magic. Here she is on the floor, bowing to me and saying, "I'm not worthy!"



Southern Magic is about supporting each other in our publishing endeavors. But we feel strongly that author support goes well with a sugar rush. So we have a complicated awards system that often involves cake. Here is mine, brought by best-selling suspense author Christy Reece.



As I said at the meeting, what I love most about being an author is sharing it with my friends. And here they are, including Jean Therkelsen (in the white sweater, with balloons), who had an even bigger celebration because she just made her first sale, a three-book deal to Kensington. Congratulations, Jeanie!



Now that I examine this picture, I'm not sure what Laura (front and center) is holding, but I'm sure it's funny.

I had a lot weighing on me last week before I found out my book was a RITA finalist. I've got a book I adore on submission--and that is a very vulnerable feeling. I expect the proofs and the advance copies of Forget You to show up any hour now, and I'm also hard at work on my MTV Books release for next year. But the weight is not so weighty as it was, and with friends like these to share the burden, it seems a lot lighter.

What do you love most about being an author?

Due to unforeseen computer issues, I missed my posting day, but I'm totally going to make up for it today.

There are a lot of things I love about being an author, but one of my favorites is when fellow writing friends get all the kudos they deserve. In this case, it's our own Jenn Echols who deserves all the chocolate today for her RITA final.

Yep, you heard me. GOING TOO FAR, Jenn's beautiful, beautiful book is a Romance Writers of America RITA finalist in the Young Adult category!

CONGRATS, JENN!!

And this is one of the very best things about being an author.

What do you love most about being an author?

I've always been in awe of authors who can weave characters and plots into stories that make me gasp or laugh or sob so hard I can’t breathe. (If you’ve ever tried reading Where The Red Fern Grows to a class of sixth graders, you know what I’m talking about!) Having the ability to write something so strong and true seemed like the coolest thing in the world.

When I started writing, I appreciated even more the mental gymnastics required to knit together words that would bring my characters, actions, and emotions to life. Which makes being an author the perfect job for me because I'm in love with language. I get major satisfaction from digging into my thesaurus for words that will slip into my sentences like the key pieces of a jigsaw puzzle and create pictures for my readers. To put it simply, I like to play with words.

Being an author has put me in contact with many creative, fascinating people I probably wouldn’t have met otherwise. Each author, bookseller, agent, editor, blogger, and event promoter I’ve met has given me fresh insight into writing and publishing. More importantly, they’ve enriched my life with their friendships and encouragement. Authors are the most supportive people I know—in person or in cyberspace.

And I am so honored to hear from teens and adults who are fans of my book. When a teen writes, “I found your book very addicting and read it all in one sitting because I could not put it down!” or someone simply says, “I loved it!” I smile, and sometimes my eyes water a little. And then I thank them. Because nothing amazes me more than a stranger who reads my book and takes the time to tell me she enjoyed it.

What Do You Love Most About Being an Author?

I really and truly love everything about being an author. My only complaint is that I wish I had more time to write. I definitely feel that life is too short to spend the time wishing that I had my dream job. So I am very fortunate to be doing what I love.

I have so much fun creating. I mean, there aren't a ton of jobs where you can pretend to be whoever you want to be. Through writing I am able to travel to all sorts of places, real and fantasy. And for the most part people don't call writers crazy for getting into character.

Another part of writing that I love is connecting with readers. I chose to write for teens because I feel like I can relate to them. I have yet to forget what it is like to get dissed by a guy or not make the school play. I hope people enjoy my books whether they are reading them to escape or for pure enjoyment.

Of course, there are days when I am slugging along through a chapter or a scene but that's when I turn to my critique buddies for a fresh eye. Being a writer can be isolating if you let it, but I've met so many fascinating people along my journey.

Other cool authorly perks that I take advantage of:
1. I can work in my pjs.
2. Starbucks has become my own personal office. Boy do I love my office:)!
3. Goinging on FB, Twitter and blogging are all part of my job.
4. That goes for watching TV and reading teen mags too!
5. Buying too many books at my local Borders, all to stay in touch with my industry, of course.
6. Meeting so many other cool authors, readers and bloggers whether it's a conferences or even online. It's a great community to be a part of.

Bottom line, I am happy to be able to do what I love, day in and day out. If I haven't written for a few days, I can get kind of grumpy. Writing is like exercise for my mind. I'm always thinking ahead to what project I'm going to dive into next. Well, off to finish the manuscript that I'm working on--Graveyard Shift.

What do you love most about being an author?

For me, being a writer is a choice. I know that there are writers who say that writing chose them, not the other way around, but for me I wasn't destined to write from the time I could hold a crayon. I've always loved writing, but I love a lot of things.

Being a writer isn't easy in the sense of you just write a story, your story sells, and all is well. Being a writer causes me to obsess over things that make me wonder if it's worth it. I will never write a vampire/werewolf/shapeshifter/ghost story, but that seems to be what sells these days - so do I even continue to write? I have no desire to write a series that follows the same characters from book to book - so should I keep writing my standalone books if series are where it's at? The publishing industry is completely screwed up - do I really want to be a part of an industry that can't get it's act together and seems to become less and less relevant every passing day? It takes months and months to write a book - do I want to spend my weekends pounding away at a keyboard when I could be hanging out with my kids and relaxing?

But I do continue to write, despite all of this. I love being an author. There are two main reasons why: I get the nicest emails from readers. Just Friday I received an email from a reader named Brooke, who said, "I just read your book, The Book of Luke, and I thought it was AMAZING! It took me a day to read! I got so into it!You are such an amazing writer!" Show me another profession where a total stranger will go out of their way to say that they appreciate what you do, that it makes them happy, and that they were willing to spend hours with something you created because it was so much fun.

The second reason I love being an author is other authors. When my first book came out I was living in Chicago and received an email from another writer who lived in Chicago. She just wanted to let me know that she read my book and loved it. And she invited me to one of her readings. I went. We met. She introduced me to a few more of her writer friends and I introduced her to mine. The women I've met through writing are some of the kindest, funniest, more supportive people out there (nothing against male writers, just haven't met that many). Often, they're just women I've met via email, yet I feel like we're all pulling for one another. If one succeeds we're thrilled, if one is having problems, we're there to office advice. Show me another profression where one person's success isn't viewed as dminishing another's, and where everyone is willing to help.

Being a writer is hard, but being an author introduces you to strangers who make you feel like what you do matters, and other authors who are there to lend an ear or a hand when you need it. And I love being a part of that.

Growing Up in Madison, WI

The title of this blog entry may seem confusing if you know. I grew up in Oak Park, Illinois like my characters in BALLADS OF SUBURBIA (though I was born in St. Louis and lived there til I was eight). But Madison, Wisconsin is the place where I actually *grew up* and became an adult.
In a few hours I will be driving up to Madison to visit some friends, as well as students at an alternative learning program, and do a reading (Tuesday, March 16th at 6:30 pm at A Room of One's Own, 307 West Johnson if you can make it!). So it seemed like an appropriate time to share some of my stories about the city.

Madison is a city I love to visit, but don't get to nearly enough even though it is only a two and a half hour drive from me. I lived there for a total of two and a half years, made some really dear friends and some really big mistakes, but all in all I have nothing but love for the place.

I graduated high school early. It wasn't really much of a feat. I hated my high school and living in Oak Park and wanted to escape as fast as possible so I looked closely at the graduation requirements and realized that I could easily meet them all in three & a half years instead of four without taking summer school or anything. I did take health class in summer school the summer before my freshman year, but even if I hadn't I still could have graduated early. As it stood, for my senior "semester" I only had a half day. I took only the classes I needed and had my dean help me arrange it so I could do them all in the morning, leave early and go to work at that fabulous job as a grocery bagger (I mean "Utility Clerk") that I mentioned in my last blog entry.

My friend Tai was already finished with high school (she'd hated hers so much, she'd done a home schooling program) who also wanted to get out of her Chicago suburb. We were both vegan (I was actually vegetarian, but she helped me become vegan), both feminist, both getting more and more into goth, both emotionally screwed up but very devoted to helping each other through these issues. In other words, we were the perfect match for roommates. I'd always wanted to move to Minneapolis because... well this is silly but a lot of bands that I liked were from there (Babes In Toyland and the Replacements) and it was still in the Midwest but a good distance from home. So my dad drove us up there one long weekend... and we were disappointed. Something about it didn't feel right. I'm not sure exactly how to explain it.

On the drive back home, Tai suggested we stop in Madison. She'd visited before and really liked it. As soon as we drove in, I was sold. I loved the way John Nolan Drive took you right over Lake Monona. I loved the downtown area, the pedestrian mall of State Street with all of its unique funky shops. As a college town, Madison felt young and like a place that was safe enough to live on my own for the first time, but far enough away from home. We decided it was our city right then.

We moved into a one-bedroom apartment downtown. This was my very first apartment building (though it looked a little different as I took this last year, 11 years after I'd lived there):

I had the bedroom and Tai transformed the living room into her bedroom. We didn't have much. We gave up the internet (which was only a newfound addiction since it was 1997, but Tai and I actually met through a Riot Grrrl forum on AOL) and cable (which was fine because the only TV I was totally addicted to was my soap opera One Life to Live). But we had my adorable cat, Sidney, who loved exploring our little home, especially from the highest place in the house:

And hanging out in my room or on Tai's bean bag:


We lived a block from a tiny park with a swing set and when you swung you could look at the lake. I sat there and wrote in my journal and went home and typed up pieces for my zine on the typewriter I got along with a record player for graduation. (It was 1997, but I was pretty old school). We were a couple blocks away from a fabulous food co-op that had the most delicious vegan cupcakes. A short drive away was a bigger co-op near a coffee house called Mother Fool's that also had delicious vegan dessert and a veggie restaurant that I want to say was called Seva.

I'm not going to lie, the first day we moved in, I cried. My mom and best friend helped us move. it was the middle of January and I had a sprained ankle, so it was stressful. When we got everything in and my mom and BFF drove off, I plugged in the phone (land line of course, I wouldn't get my first cell phone til later that year when I went to college and that was for emergencies only) and it didn't work!!! My mom and best friend were driving away and I had no way to reach them! I cried like crazy, but of course Tai comforted me. It was something we'd do for each other often and still do to this day.

In the morning everything felt better. We went to State Street and started job hunting. We took a short break to see The People Vs Larry Flynt (I was and still am a huge Courtney Love fan and she was really in prime back then) and eat at what would become one of my favorite restaurants on the planet. Himal Chuli, a Nepalese place with the best dal soup ever. Fortunately (unlike a lot of places I loved in Madison), it still exists and anyone who visits should absolutely stop there and try it. We applied at every shop we could, imagining how cool it would be to work at Four Star Video Heaven (aka the best video store on earth, in a pre-Netflix world it was the only place I could ever find obscure arty or foreign films) or the Triangle Market... solely because the guy who worked there was *really* cute. Of course we ended up with the glamorous jobs of gas station employee (Tai) and grocery store cashier (me, and it was a struggle to get that job because they had weird rules in Madison about hiring people who were under 18 full-time. Tai was 18, but I was still only 17 so I had to prove I was done with high school.)

Everything we did was an adventure. We decorated the apartment. We laughed over the notes we got from maintenance about them coming to clean the "mole off of our windows" (because obviously there were little creatures living in our windows, not green slimy stuff). We grocery-shopped at midnight at Woodmans. We went to the University's alcohol-free goth dance night. We went out driving late at night into the Wisconsin countryside, just randomly choosing roads until we ended up in a small town where we'd sit in the bar and just observe (these little experiments was where I ultimately drew inspiration for Emily's small fictional Wisconsin town in I WANNA BE YOUR JOEY RAMONE). We didn't have friends. It was just the two of us and Sidney in our own little bubble of vegan cooking, zine-making, late night emotional conversations, and dance parties to the Smiths... for a little while at least.

Then we met the homeless goth boy. That is a story that needs a whole other blog entry. But the long and the short of it was we met this homeless goth boy and we let him live with us for a week, which was obviously very stupid. Nothing terrible happened. We just found out what many girls discover--sometimes boys are very pretty until they start talking and you discover they are morons. He was a dolt and we kicked him out, but we met new people through him. Older people. Over 21 people. Who could get us in to the real goth club... The Inferno.

Here we are headed to our first night there (Tai on the left, me on the right) where we would share one vodka and cranberry very innocently:

The innocence wouldn't last. I'd quit smoking, drinking and drugs at the end of summer before my senior year because I was seeing myself going down a path that ended in heroin addiction like a couple of my ex-boyfriends. I had an addictive personality. Once I realized the freedom I had--no parents around to hide my smoking from and new friends to buy me booze and who held weight in the goth scene so I could hang out at 21+ places without an ID or any questions--things quickly spiraled out of control. And there was a boy. A boy who was very toxic for me, but I ended up being involved with for eight years.

Tai and I were both under the spell of Madison and easy club access and booze and boys and self-destruction. We both had plans to go to college in other states, but we both ended up dropping out of those colleges and moving back to Madison within a year to live with our respective boyfriends. Tai wasn't nearly as in to the whole drinking and clubbing thing as I was though so she got her life together and ditched her toxic boy much faster than me.

I lived in Madison in a drunken haze for two years. Then, around my twenty-first birthday, I decided I needed direction in my life so I decided to move back to Chicago and go to school for Fiction Writing. Madison as much as I loved it, was starting to feel too small for me.

So like I said, it is the place where I grew up. I discovered what it was like to be an adult. At first it was innocent and fun and carefree and then I lost control. But I learned that when you are an adult no one can reign back in, you have to chose to take responsibility. Ultimately I did.

I am a person who lives without regret. Everything I did, even the stupid stuff, led me to where I am now so I'm glad to have gone through it all. And I have nothing but love for Madison. Sometimes I still daydream about moving back there even though I know it is too cold in the winter and too small for me. I know that one of the reasons I love Seattle so much (the place where I hope to move some day) is because it reminds me of a bigger Madison, with larger bodies of water and better weather. So I will enjoy my visit, especially the old friends and the best dal soup I've ever had.

How to promote your novel

Recently my local writers' group, Southern Magic, asked me to lend some words of advice to pre-published authors about promoting their work. As the publication date of Forget You approaches, I thought it might be helpful to show everyone my checklist of promotional opportunities that I'm taking advantage of this time around.

1. I am having a parade through downtown Birmingham.



This will be my sixth promotional parade, and let me tell you, it never gets old. The rush I get as I perform the pageant wave...the way people stop on the sidewalk to stare at me as I pass by...this is what being a famed author is all about.

Now, what always happens after my parade is that I get e-mail messages from a few wise guys who want to make fun of me because the police pulled me over for driving too slowly and, perhaps, weaving. Let me just stop you before you hit send because that policeman is not pulling me over. He is my ESCORT and everybody knows a parade has an ESCORT.

Let me also say this. Last year I heard super-agent Steven Axelrod speak about promotion at a writers' convention. His opinion was that when an author invents a new sort of promotion, that first author is the one who gets all the good out of it. Other authors will rush to imitate it, but they will not have the same sort of success. So I am telling you what I'm doing for promotion for Forget You, but I'm not necessarily advocating that you all follow exactly in my footsteps. I am looking at you, Ms. Ferrer.



2. I am going to be a contestant on "Dancing with the Stars." I do not even need to be paired with a partner/coach. I am going to bring down the house with my rendition of the robot.

3. I am going to decorate a well-known Birmingham landmark with the book cover.



Again, when your little fingers are itching to type me a message about my arrest while I was tying a banner to the base of the statue of Vulcan without permission...the police were just there to make sure I didn't need anything while I was working. Water? Coffee? Champagne? Look, I am trying to help you here, and I do not need your constant sniping. You are just jealous.

Moving on.

4. I am starring in my own reality show. I actually got this idea from the most famous person from Alexander City, Alabama--after me, of course--Terrell Owens. My show is going to be called "The J. E. Show" and it will document my heart-wrenching journey back to town, where I am so famous that I cannot even go to Wal-Mart without being surrounded with clamoring fans. On his show, Terrell went back to visit the high school football team. Likewise, I visited the high school library recently and they did not have a single copy of any of my books. I am sure they were all checked out.

The show was supposed to have debuted already. Unfortunately, there has been a production delay. My eight-year-old son stars in the show--his usual role is to tug and my skirts and coo, "O Mother, that I would be as loved and lauded someday!" but he is not currently presentable on camera. It seems that his third-grade class has been reading Chocolate Fever by Robert Kimmel Smith, and the teacher encouraged them to draw measles-like lesions all over themselves with brown markers. Isn't that adorable! She said the markers were washable. THEY ARE NOT. I have a sneaking suspicion that Robert Kimmel Smith purposefully sabotaged my promotion campaign with his own promotion campaign, but I will not be daunted. I am sure production of my show will resume any day now...when the brown marks wear off the kid's face.

5. And then I am posing for Playboy.

Any questions? I want to help you however I can.