Monthly Archives: December 2011

For Kyra!

Been reading Kyra’s novel again (she complained until I started it) and she’s got something here, I think.

I am currently watching a movie called Party Animal.
Netflix knows where to find all the ghetto/violent/gnar/badass movies.

This one is about a buncha gay boys with a horrible, horrible drug/party problem. It’s pretty good. It has a pretty good soundtrack. Techno beats. And such.

So anyway.

We will have a brand new year on Sunday. What are some of your goals? Writing . . . money . . . clothes?

I think I just have a few {as far as writing goes}:

-Finish my newest novel.

-Find an agent.

-Make some money with my writing. . .if at all possible. haha

And I think that is all. My life goal list for 2012 is pretty much endless. Like, getting a real job. Which I need horribly.

Anyone know of any places hiring??

Okay, and also. What is everyone doing for New Year’s? Any big parties? Eric’s throwing one. But I think it’ll be pretty chill. I think I want to dress as a Transvestite. {Is that how it’s spelled?} It would make the night much more interesting!

okok. I’m done now. I will see you all NEXT YEAR!! woooo weeee

NOTE FROM MOM–Well, I appreciate the invite from Eric for the New Year party. Mom, me and Carolina will look good sitting in the corner until midnight.
I can dance like nobody’s business when it starts to get late.
As Kyra says, Woooo weeee!

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Three Things Thursday

Have you seen this?
I loved it.
This boy died on Christmas day, but if you have a few minutes, read what he says here:

gma.yahoo.com/video/news-26797925/sick-teen-s-videos-go-viral-after-death-27729605.html


Are your writing goals complete?

Have you decided how you are going to move into 2012 as a writer?
Are your goals attainable? Are you in control of them?
Even if the world’s going to end this year, well, we need to be working on something amazing before it’s all over, don’t you think?

Here are the people coming to Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers this year. I asked Chris Crowe to teach–y’all cheer him on so her can teach on 2013 . . .IF . . .

Introduction to Writing–AE Cannon
Picture Book–Trudy Harris
Illustration–Julie Olson
Middle Grade– Time Wynne-Jones
Intro to YA Novel–Kimberly Hueston
Advanced–Carol Lynch Williams
Advanced–Greg Leitich Smith
Science Fiction–Mette Ivie Harrison
Fantasy–Matt Kirby
Paranormal–Cynthia Leitich Smith
Writing the LDS Middle Grade and Young Adult Novel–Kirk Shaw
Boot Camp–Ann Dee Ellis
John Cusick, agent with the Scott Treime NY
And two almost confirmed editors (we’ll know soon)

REGISTRATION starts the middle-ish of next month

I tell you all this as a warning for next week. I read something that simply blew my mind on Facebook– a woman who needs no classes, no teaching, nothing–she’s an accomplished author all on her own. And yes, I found her books on Amazon. And yes, I read a bit, and yes, she needs help. BAD.
But more on that later.
MAYBE.

But here’s a for sure–
Happy New Year!!!!

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Irony

Here’s my new year’s wish: to climb at least one rung of the corporate ladder: to be promoted from junior assistant co-blogger of Throwing Up Words, Inc.  Some people (viz. Carol Lunch Williams) would justify my lowly status by pointing out that it’s an honor to hold any kind of position in such a prominent [ http://www.ebizmba.com/articles/blogs] blog, so “Quit your whining!”  Or if she were in a better mood, “You oughta be paying us!”  Other people (viz. Andy Ellis) would point out that I had nothing to do with creating or promoting this blog, so “Quit your whining!!”  Or if she were in a better mood, “You oughta be paying us!!”  [Andy likes exclamation marks more than Carol does.]

The co-CEOs of Throwing Up Words, Inc. might also point out that since I joined the blog, the weekly readership has declined from 5 readers to 4.  In my defense, I would argue that an even number is always better than a prime number, especially when it comes to blogs about writing, but the money-hungry Blog Bosses who run this blog like it’s their own private pirate ship would tell me “You don’t know nuthin’ about readership, blogs, or numbers, so just shut up, keep your nose clean, and post your weekly, mealy-mouthed blog, OK?  OK?”  Then the Blog Bosses would shake their finely-manicured fingers at me and beat me over the head with their same, worn-out threat.  “Do you know who USED to occupy this position at Throwing Up Words, Inc.?  Do you have any idea who you replaced?”  And I would hang my head and mumble the name of the fabulously successful and wealthy authoress whose position I inherited, and the co-CEO Blog Bosses would narrow their fake-lashes eyes and say, “Darn right, that’s who.  So don’t come crying to us about a promotion until you’ve done something worth promoting you for.  And besides, you know the real reason we recurited you as her replacement, right?”  And then I would nod, fighting back tears, and admit that, yes, I knew that I’m the token male in Throwing Up Words, Inc. That I’m a mere statistic.  That I’m a gender balancer.  And of course, seeing me in such a humiliated condition would send the Blog Bosses into fits of cackling because they knew that I knew that they knew it was totally true.  “Quit your whining!!!” they both would shout.  “And get back below-decks and man that bilge pump.  We run a tight ship around here, Crowe!!!”  And red-faced and trailing clouds of shame, I would slink down the ladder into the dank, dark, depressing pit of the good ship Throwing Up Words, Inc. and grab the sticky, grimy, brown handle of the bilge pump and start doing what the Blog Bosses ordered.

And somehow, it would all seem ironic.  Painfully, terribly, honestly ironic.

And one of the Blog Bosses would screech, “Ironic?  What do you know about irony?”  And I would flinch at her screeching and cower in the darkness of the lower deck, my eyes watering out of fear—and the stench of the bilge—and I would say, “What do I know?  What do I know about irony?  It’s like rain on your wedding day, a free ride when you’ve already paid . . .”  And the she-boss would throw back her head and cackle some more.  Then she’d turn on her ruby-red stilletto heel and say, “I don’t have time for this, Crowe.”  And with a toss of her well-coiffed head, she’d say, “And you got lots of bilge to get pumped out of here, so quit worrying about irony and get back to work.”  And she’d strut away and back to the captain’s cabin, leaving me alone in the dank, dark, depressing pit of the pirate ship Throwing Up Words, Inc. to meditate on the true meaning of irony.

And here’s what I’d think:

I’d think it’s ironic, painfully, incredibly ironic to write a smashing bestseller and never know it.  I’d think it’s ironic beyond belief to write three novels, hand all three manuscripts to my editor, in person, and go back to my apartment feeling an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and anticipation, punch apartment building elevator button for a ride up to my 7th-floor apartment only to find out that, dang, the elevator’s not working, and then, fueled by the high of having just turned in three promising novel manuscripts, decide to jog up the seven flights of stairs.  And it would be ironic to swing open that apartment door, breathless and sweaty from running up those seven flights of stairs, and feel a burning clutch of pain in my chest, and to drop dead, right there on the floor of my own apartment.  And then, a year or two later, it would be terribly, painfully, wonderfully ironic for those three books to sell more than 65 MILLION COPIES!  Yep.  That is one writer who would know the true meaning of irony.

Happy new year!

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Project Writeway . . .

On Monday everyone will be posting goals.

On Tuesday, Project Writeway will begin. This competition is similar to Project Runway (one of my favorite reality shows) except our competition will be more professional and the prize will be much more fantabulous (hahahahhahahahahah).

It will go like this: the first week will be a first line contest. Turn in your best first line ever. I’ll post the email address that you’ll send it to and then I’ll post them all together on Wednesday or Thursday–we’re still getting the timeline worked out. We want a lot of entries for this so tell your friends. By the end of the week, we’ll have guest judges pick the top twelve first lines. This will be anonymous so with your entry you’ll need a pen name (so fun).

The top twelve will be our contestants on Project Writeway. Each week we’ll have a different challenge. I’ll post the entries on the blog and they will be judged based on both a popular vote (people can send in emails telling us their favorites) and the guest judges vote.

Week by week, we’ll get smaller and smaller and eventually we’ll have a winner! The winner will get some signed books (details soon) AND a ten page critique from a New York Fabulous agent!!! This is a great opportunity to get your work in the hands of a mover and shaker, people!

The competition will only work if we get entries and if we get people voting. If we don’t get enough people doing it, we’ll have BLAH cancel the whole thing. So please please please tell all your writer friends to polish those first lines and get ready to enter next week. We’ll have more specific details next week. All you need to know now is this:

1. First line.

2. Tell your friends.

3. You could win big.

4. Starts next week.

5. You can do this!

I think that’s all. I’m off to try to make dragon birthday decorations. December is a big month for us.

SPREAD THE WORD and let us know if you have questions.

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Taking the Day Off

Gather up your New Year’s Writing Goals for next Monday. We’re posting here to keep track.

Hope everyone’s yesterday was fun.
Mine was.
Got Grinch footed-jammies.
When I was on my LDS mission, a friend used to sing to me, “You’re a mean one, Sister Lynch.”
I loved it.
And I love my jammies.
Plus also, I got Modern Family, Seasons One and Two.

AND I met Kyra’s hot Indian boyfriend’s Mom and Dad.
That was an amazing part of the day.
Why? I had this sort of spiritual experience (I think one might say spiritual–kind of left me frightened and breathless) (I won’t be talking about that, though) and I came to the realization that I can speak to a thousand people, sing in front of a crowd, dance around on a stage, come up with cheesy, semi-dirty writing jokes on the spot, complain endlessly about what I’m working on–but ask me to talk to normal people around a Christmas dinner table and I don’t know what to say.
I sat there, the house filled with babies and parents and even someone who loved The Chosen One (that wasn’t my own family!) and I couldn’t come up with one topic–and this would make Chris happy–so was SILENT.
“How’s the novel going?”
“Got any hopes for the Newbery?”
“Did you do NaNo?”
That’s what I wanted to say.
Three times, people told me about family problems and I couldn’t say anything back.
All I could think was, “Oh, that’s awful. Can I put that in a book?”
At one point I made a pretty funny joke about someone I’d never met before who sat across the table from me (thank GOODNESS she made a grammar mistake I could play off) and everyone burst out laughing. One second later I got the long, slow press of Kyra’s knee into mine that meant Mom, are you kidding me? Shut up!
It’s a terrible thing to realize you’re flawed.

All in all, yesterday was a darned good day.

This morning as I lay in bed thinking about this post, I remembered back to my Santa experience from so many years ago.
Oh, how I love Santa. I love that wishful feeling, that waiting feeling, that hopeful, good, let-it-be-true feeling.
That’s when I realized something else.
All those feelings are exactly why I write.
I like believing.

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Twelve Days of Zombie Christmas

I’m not sure why my thoughts turn to zombie verse when I should be writing; maybe it’s because I’m brain dead?  Or maybe it’s because Andy didn’t share any birthday cake or leftover Chuckie Cheese Pizza?  Or maybe it’s because Carol Lunch Williams still hasn’t paid me for my bloggering nor has she promoted me from junior assistant co-blogger of Throwing Up Words, Inc.?  Or maybe because when  I was in junior high and should have been doing homework, I was daydreaming about the creepy NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD movie I had seen too many times?

Or maybe I’m just hungry?

 

on the first day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the second day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

two bloody skulls

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the third day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the fourth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the fifth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the sixth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the seventh day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the eighth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

eight spades for whacking,

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the ninth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

nine ladies running,

eight spades for whacking,

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the tenth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

ten lords a freakin’

nine ladies running,

eight spades for whacking,

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the eleventh day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

eleven people shrieking,

ten lords a freakin’

nine ladies running,

eight spades for whacking,

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

on the twelfth day of Christmas, my zombie gave to me…

twelve runners stumbling,

eleven people shrieking,

ten lords a freakin’

nine ladies running,

eight spades for whacking,

seven blondes for eatin’,

six geese for flaying,

five gory things,

four screaming nerds,

three fresh hands,

two bloody skulls,

and some cartilage from a left knee.

 

merry christmas, you all.  sleep tight, and don’t let the zombies bite.

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Today

Today is my birthday. My four year old has it all planned out. Me, him, the three year old and the baby are doing the following things (not necessarily in order):

1. Visiting Chuck E. Cheese.*

2. Going bowling.

3. Eating a cake that is purple and looks like something I like, like maybe a raccoon.

4. Eating ice cream.

5. Going to the dinosaur museum.

6. Eating another cake that could be a tiger or a shark.

7. Watching How to Train Your Dragon.

8. Going to Pirate Island (even though it burned down).

9. Going to Provo Beach for more bowling.

10. Buying candy at the candy counter at BYU

11. Eating at a restaurant like old McDonald

12. And anything else I want to do.

You are invited.

I told Cam that all I wanted for my birthday and Christmas was to finish a book. I emailed the request to him and I even wrote that it would make me “shine” inside. After I sent it I thought, why did I write that? Shine inside? So cheesy.

But, it would be nice.

And I might shine.

I also might not shine.

In any case, if I wanted to finish a book today or in the next few days, I’d need to be by myself, in a room for a lot of hours. This would be nice. It would also be not nice. I have the hardest time figuring out how to manage three beautiful loud chuckthingsatme boys, a wonderful husband, a house, parents, exercising, living, and then of course writing. I know some women do it and do it well. Me? Not so much.

Maybe tomorrow/today I will finish a book. A picture book about how it’s not a good idea to eat three lofthouse cookies in a row. Or maybe I’ll get closer to finishing a novel. Or develop the idea I’ve been mulling around for the past few weeks. Or maybe I won’t. And I think I’ll be okay because look at all the other wonderful birthday things I get to do. Come with us to Chuck E. Cheese. You know you want to.

*What does the E stand for? Anyone?

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