WOW! I feel so
crazy lucky to have had the chance to attend three library-focused conventions
this year: ALA Midwinter in San Diego, TLA in Austin in April and ALA Annual in
New Orleans. At each one I had the
chance to meet so many amazing new people and run into old friends. Also, since I’m terrible at saying
good-bye, it’s been kinda nice being able to say, “I’ll see you in a few months
at the next convention!”
And of course, as usual, I totally neglected to take many
pictures (why do I always fail at this!?).
ALA began for me on Thursday, flying into NOLA and meeting
Jackson Pearce at the airport (we were renting a car together). Jackson rightly pointed out that
somehow we’ve ended up seeing each other every two months for several years… it
just seems to work out that way (which makes me quite happy since Jackson is so
much fun!).
We drove into the Garden District where friends had rented a
house so in a sense the whole trip was part writing retreat and part ALA. The house was really awesome -- one of
those big rambly types with bathrooms hidden in odd nooks. Plus it had a pool table/ping pong
table that got lots and lots of use J
Friday I headed down to Beau Monde to meet Laini Taylor, her
husband and editor for beignets.
So tasty and fully of powdery suger goodness? We ambled around the French Quarter for a while as I tried
not to fangirl all over Laini because I’m such a massively huge fan of her
writing. Then it was off to lunch
with another friend, an afternoon hanging out in a hotel lobby (which turned
out pretty great because got to
meet some very cool people) and a stealth invite to a party that night
(including dancing which I haven’t done in ages and let me just say, there are
some NYC pub folk who can seriously dance J)
Saturday was another full day at the convention, stalking
down ARCs, meeting people, fangirling over authors…. Typical stuff J I felt like every time I turned around
there was someone new to meet. And
because everyone there shares the same love of books it sometimes feels easier
to just introduce yourself to a stranger (I pounced on a few people from my
home states of NC and SC).
That night I joined Tessa Gratton and we headed off to the Random House Children's Books party during which there was much revelry and fun (with bonus MardiGras beads!). From there a group of us including James Kennedy and Daniel Kraus headed off to a long dinner at the W Hotel with Jackson Pearce, Natalie Parker, Tessa, Brenna Yovanoff, Cassandra Clare and Javier Ruescas which included much merrymaking. (Again, how do I fail at taking photos of these things?). And yes, I ate fried alligator. And bananas foster (which came with waffles... is that normal?)
Sunday was yet another day hitting the floor to see the likes of Maureen Johnson and Lauren Myracle. We ran into Jennifer Lynn Barnes which was awesome because I love her and it somehow TOTALLY escaped my attention she'd be there. So we grabbed her and Jo Whittemore for lunch -- such a treat!
And yes, if you're starting to get the impression that these events are my definition of utopia, I think you're right: good food, good people, good books... seriously, what could be better?
Monday was a day off at the house (we did manage to track down some shrimp poboys) with much revelry. This is a group of writers who have been doing retreats for several years now and it's always really wonderful to touch base because we always make sure to talk goals and dreams and where we are in our careers/life and where want to be.
Tuesday I had the great fortune of running into AS King, Eric Wight and Snow Wildsmith in the NOLA airport and even greater fortune of being able to sit with Snow for the flight home!
I got to stay at home for one whole day and now I'm at the beach to celebrate the 4th with my in-laws and then it's up to another beach to spend with my family. Of course there will be much writing because deadlines loom... but at least I'll be writing with a fantastic view :)
In fact, my mother-in-law just announced it's time to go crabbing so I'm taking my rancid turkey neck and heading off to the creek!
Thanks to everyone in NOLA and at ALA for making the entire even so utterly fantastic! I can't wait for next year :)
So sorry for the delay in posting some of these winners -- I've been caught up writing and doing little else all week :) It's been one of those weeks where I'm so immersed in the book that at the end of the day I just sort of stare off into space blankly, no words left for conversations.
Without further ado, the winners of my recent giveaways! Winners, email me at carrie [at] carrieryan.com with your address and I'll drop these in the mail! If I don't hear from you by Thursday, June 23 then it might be a while before I'm able to send the prizes (I'll be out of town for a while). Let me know if you'd like the books/audiobooks autographed to anyone and if so, what name.
If you don't know Jen, she is awesome both as a person as a writer. She's wicked smart, crazy cute, super nice and just someone that I look up to immensely. She's also phenomenally talented (her The Squadbooks are still some of my favorites) and one of the many things I just thought was fascinating about Raised by Wolves, the prequel to Trial by Fire, is how dead on Jen gets the pack dynamics of her werewolf world. Which of course shouldn't be surprising since she studies pack dynamics, but still -- it's was really really cool and fantastic!
After—but only partially because of—the bombshell I’d dropped on the boys, Thanksgiving dinner proved to be a tense state of affairs. Casey had to leave the table twice: once when Mitch’s hand brushed Ali’s as he reached for the salt, and once when Katie started bawling and Mitch was the one to reach out and distract the temperamental little miss from the indignity of being stuck in a high chair. As for Devon and Chase, they were acting even more high-strung than Ali’s ex.
Apparently, my distraction had worked a little too well, leaving the two of them closing rank around me, like the Thanksgiving steak—a vaunted Were tradition—might leap off the table at any moment and attempt an assassination.
It was just a dream, guys.
I sent the words to the two of them through the bond, thankful that I’d mastered this part of being an alpha and didn’t have to worry about other members of our pack overhearing.
I’m fine. I’m going to be fine, and if either of you move your chairs even a centimeter closer to me, you’re going to be picking stuffing out of your hair while trying to pry my foot out of your you-know-what.
The humorless expression on my face sold that threat. I wasn’t some weak little human girl anymore. For that matter, I’d never been some weak little human girl. I was a survivor, I was their alpha, and I could take care of myself.
“Ouch!” The cry escaped my mouth before I could stop it, and on either side of me, Chase and Devon leapt to their feet.
“Problem?” Ali asked mildly, amusement dancing in the corners of her eyes. Given the whole Casey thing, I didn’t think she had call to be in such a good mood, but what did I know?
“No problem,” I said darkly, rubbing my shin. “Somebody just accidentally kicked me under the table.” I narrowed my eyes at Lake, and she helped herself to another T-bone and smothered it in steak sauce.
“Wasn’t an accident,” she said cheerfully.
“Lake.” Mitch didn’t say more than his daughter’s name, and she rolled her eyes.
“It’s not like I shot her.”
There was a retort on the tip of my tongue, but I was pretty sure Lake had kicked me because she’d picked up on my saying things she couldn’t hear, and I really didn’t want to open up that topic of conversation to the table at large. The boys’ overprotective act was conspicuous enough as it was.
Note to self: in the future, I needed to be more careful about how I changed the subject.
I’ll tell you later, Lake, I said silently. Promise.
Lake met my eyes and nodded, all thoughts of further under-the-table violence (hopefully) forgotten.
I reached out to dish up seconds, and the door to the restaurant opened. Casey crossed the room and slid back into his seat, composure regained. Even though I’d gotten used to his presence, something shifted inside my body. I took a long drink of water and gave my pack-sense a chance to acclimate again, only this time, it didn’t.
Foreign. Wolf.
Through the heavy scent of homemade gravy and pies baking in the oven, I couldn’t even pick Casey’s scent out of the crowd’s, but what I was feeling now had nothing to do with the five senses and everything to do with my psychic bond to the Pack. The niggling sensation persisted, and the longer I waited for it to pass, the larger it got.
Foreign. Wolf.
That was when I realized that I wasn’t sensing Casey. It was something else. Someone else.
Across the table, Mitch glanced toward the door, and then he looked at me.
“Get the kids to the back,” he said.
I turned immediately to Maddy, and with the quiet efficiency that had always made her a leader among the Rabid’s pint-sized victims, she ushered the others away from the table, even Lily, who let loose a comically high-pitched growl at the thought of being separated from her food.
“Now, Lily.” I added my voice to Maddy’s, but my thoughts were on Mitch, who’d already started reaching for the gun he and Keely kept behind the counter.
Ali didn’t ask what was happening. She didn’t have to. Within seconds, she had Katie in one arm and Alex in the other, and she met Casey’s eyes.
“Are you staying or coming?” she asked him calmly.
I could see the temptation of going with Ali warring with Casey’s lupine desire to prove himself—to Ali and to the rest of her pack.
“This is Cedar Ridge business,” I told Casey quietly. “We’ve got it covered.”
The dagger eyes Casey shot me in that moment made me realize that he hadn’t forgiven me for being the straw that broke his marriage’s back.
He wouldn’t ever forgive me.
Foreign. Wolf.
Right now, I had bigger issues than Casey.
“If I asked you to come with us, would you come?” It took me a second to figure out that Ali was addressing that question to me, not Casey.
I didn’t answer.
Ali started again. “If I told you to come, would you— You know what? Never mind, but if there’s a hair out of place on your head when I get back, be forewarned, I will kill you, alpha or not.”
With those words, Ali followed Maddy and the rest of the younger kids back into the kitchen, out of sight and, hopefully, out of harm’s way. After a long moment, and another glare in my direction, Casey retreated, leaving only five of us to meet the coming threat.
Devon, Lake, Mitch, Chase, and me.
Foreign. Wolf.
This time, the feeling was so strong that it brought me onto the balls of my feet. There was a foreign wolf on our territory. My territory. He’d come without permission, on an evening when the bar was closed. Teeth gnashed in the recesses of my brain, painting the walls of my mind red with blood as I realized the potential for this to end badly.
Very badly.
The werewolf Senate hadn’t been happy with the idea of a human alpha, and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about the fact that I had something most male Weres wanted very, very badly.
Maddy. Lake. Lily, Katie, Sloane, Ava, Sophie . . .
Their names blended together in my mind, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins turned angry and cool. Most werewolves were male. Natural-born females, like Katie and Lake, survived to birth only because they’d been half of a set
of twins, and most packs didn’t have more than a handful of females, period.
Ours had nine, all of them young, none of them mated. As long-lived as werewolves were, most wouldn’t have batted an eye at the idea of taking possession of a female and waiting a decade or two for her to grow up.
If I had to, I’d tear this intruder to shreds with my bare hands to keep our girls safe.
“You even think of telling me to turn tail and hide, and I’ll laugh you out of Montana proper.” Lake’s words left no room for argument, but we both knew that if I wanted her to leave, I could make her leave. That was what it meant to be alpha.
I met Lake’s eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. Alpha or not, forcing my will on someone else wasn’t what it meant to be me.
An alien smell—snake oil and vinegar, feces and blood—permeated the thick wooden door, strong enough that even my human nose could make it out, and though none of the five of us moved, the shift in the room was unmistakable. My pack was ready to fight, and I was ready to let them—and to do what I could to back them up—but whoever the intruder was, he never crossed the threshold of the door.
There was a loud thump outside, like a duffel bag being dropped onto cement, and then a high-pitched gargle—half choke, half whine—filled the air.
Blood.
The smell—and the meaning behind it—finally registered, and I pushed my way through my werewolf bodyguards until the only thing standing between me and the door was Mitch.
“Someone’s hurt.” I said those two words like they were all that mattered. For a moment, I didn’t think Mitch was going to get out of the way or even open the door. He’d spent a long time living on the periphery of Callum’s pack, with Callum his alpha in name only. Mitch wasn’t used to taking orders, and even though he’d joined our pack shortly after Lake had, I wasn’t used to giving them to him.
Please, Mitch. I met his eyes.
With a slight nod and his gun at the ready, Mitch opened the door. I didn’t push him, didn’t rush it, but when Mitch knelt down next to a heap of bones and fur, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I was beside him in an instant—not within biting range, but close enough that I could make out every inch of this ravaged Were’s body.
He looked like he’d been taken apart piece by piece and sewn back together—badly. He was stuck halfway between his human form and his animal one, and the patches of skin that weren’t covered with fur were angry and red, welts layered over bruises layered over burns.
Why didn’t he finish Shifting?
Bile rose in my throat with the question. Weres healed extremely quickly, but you couldn’t Shift and heal at the same time; it was like trying to eat while throwing up. That explained why the body in front of us was still battered to a pulp, but not why its owner had let himself be caught in the throes of Shifting for any extended period of time.
Without meaning to, I moved my gaze to Chase. The expression on his face was completely impassive. Even I couldn’t read it, but I didn’t need to, because the last time I’d seen a Were caught between one form and another, Shifting back and forth with excruciating results, it was Chase. We’d been hunting the Rabid who’d Changed him into a Were, and the monster had turned the hunt back on us, infiltrating Chase’s head.
“Is somebody doing this to him?” I kept my voice low, and it was almost drowned out by the heavy, tortured breaths coming from the porch. “Should I try to break off the connection?”
That was what I’d done to free Chase from the Rabid. I’d gone into Chase’s head, taken the connection the Rabid had formed when he’d Changed him, and snapped it in two.
If I had to, I could do it again.
“No.” Mitch’s voice was sharper than I’d ever heard it. “This wolf isn’t yours, Bryn. Unless you’re wanting war, you’ll keep your little alpha nose out of his pack-bonds. Not all alphas are as forgiving as Callum when it comes to other people stealing their wolves.”
I felt like Mitch had slapped me, like I was stupid and young and completely incompetent as an alpha and a person.
“Whose is he?” I asked quietly, trying to place the wolf’s scent but thrown off by the smell of blood and the mewling sound now making its way out of the creature’s monstrous hybrid mouth.
Mitch didn’t reply; instead, he pointed to the creature’s neck. “There’s what’s keeping him from Shifting.”
My eyes adjusted to the darkness on the porch, and I saw the object Mitch had referenced: a long, thin metal shaft that glowed in the light of the nearly full moon.
Silver.
“Dev?” I could have removed it myself, but impulsive or not, even I wasn’t stupid enough to think that my going that close to an injured Were was a good idea. Whoever he was, the mass of flesh and bones on our porch was out of his mind with pain, and pain had a habit of making Weres unpredictable.
If Devon got bitten, he’d heal in a matter of moments. If I got bitten, I might never heal, and if I got bitten badly enough, I’d end up either dead or Changed—and neither one of those was a future I would particularly relish.
Devon walked forward, and without waiting a beat, he knelt, closed a hand around the shaft, and pulled. Most werewolves were allergic to silver, but as in many areas of life, Devon was an exception. As he jerked the hated object out of the wound, the injured Were reared back, and I heard teeth snapping and the sound of flesh—though whose, I wasn’t sure—giving way.
Chase came to my side, and I thought of that moment of quiet in the woods—how fragile it had been, how fleeting.
Dev tossed the silver rod to one side. “We’ll want to pick that up,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “Wouldn’t want one of the kiddos to get ahold of it.”
Our visitor’s body registered the silver’s removal. It shuddered and finally gave way to one form.
Human form.
If I’d been horrified before, I was sickened now. There wasn’t a piece of flesh that had been left untouched, and for a moment, I thought I might throw up or cry or both.
The injured Were was a boy. Not a man, not a threat. A boy—maybe a year or so younger than me. All business, Mitch bent and hefted the boy into his arms, eliciting a high-pitched whine more lupine than not.
“Tell Ali I’ll need medical supplies,” he said. “Lake knows where they are.” With those words, Mitch turned to carry the boy away, leaving the rest of us standing there, slack-jawed and tense.
Lake was the first to snap out of it, and she hurried back to the kitchen to relay the message to Ali. Chase’s eyes followed Mitch’s progression, and I could see the gears in his head turning as he analyzed the situation. He ran a hand through my hair, assuring himself with every light touch that I was all right, convincing the wolf inside him to still.
Devon didn’t move, and this time, I said his name silently.
Dev?
After a long moment, Devon managed to drag his eyes away from the blood seeping into the wooden planks of the porch. His fists clenched, and he turned toward me. “Bryn.”
There was a wealth of information in that one word, and I knew that whatever Devon said next was going to send a tremor through our pack, like static feedback or a punch to the gut.
“I caught his scent, and it wasn’t pretty.”
I waited for Devon to make a comment about Calvin Klein cologne or something equally flippant, but he didn’t. Instead, he cut right to the chase.
“This kid is from the Snake Bend Pack, Bryn. His alpha is Shay.”
Bonus! I'm also going to follow in Ally Carter's brilliant footsteps and offer a bonus gift/prize/offer of an autographed (by me) advanced reader copy of Entrhalled, the smart chicks short story collection featuring Jen, me and a whole bunch of awesome authors! At the end of the week I'll draw a random name from the comments to this post (both on blogger and LJ) - as usual you get an extra entry for tweeting/facebooking/linking to this chapter (just make sure to put that information in the comment so I can give the bonus entries). Enter by midnight EST on Friday June 17th to win!
Thanks to Jen for letting me celebrate the release of Trial by Fire which comes out in only two days! You can order it here: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Indiebound
It's that time of year again - ConCarolinas weekend! Yay for my local SFF conference!! JP and I came across this conference several years ago and we've loved going since! Because it's small there are a bunch of regular attendees (who totally rock) and it's super awesome to have the chance to hang out and catch up.
So if you're in the Charlotte area, I totally recommend this conference! I won't be selling books there but please feel free to grab me in the hallway (or before/after panels) to chat, sign stuff, etc. (And since someone asked, I don't charge a signing fee).
Sat 10:00 am: Magic in the City - Trends in paranormal/urban fantasy fiction.
Sat 12:00 pm: Writing for the Web - Blogs, tweets and other web-based musings (where I'll be hanging with the other participants in the Magical Words group blog).
Sat 03:00 pm: Learning to Write - A new panel of guests give their advice to novice writers.
All of those panels will be in University Ballroom A.
June is audiobook month and I'm super excited to celebrate! I couldn't be more thrilled that Listening Library released audio versions of all three of the books in my Forest of Hands and Teeth series. It's super surreal to hear my words coming out of someone else's mouth -- I think it's the closest I've ever come to understanding how others interpret and internalize what I've written.
You can hear for yourself what I'm talking about! Here's a sample from The Forest of Hands and Teeth:
Here's The Dead-Tossed Waves:
Here's The Dark and Hollow Places:
And to celebrate Audiobooks month I'm giving some away! To enter just comment on this post (and if you're looking for something to comment about I'd love to know what your favorite audiobook is and/or where you tend to listen to audiobooks). I'll be picking winners with a random number generator on Friday, June 10th. You get an extra entry for tweeting or facebooking about this contest (don't forget to comment letting me know about your tweet or facebook entry). The prizes: I'll be giving away a copy of each of my audiobooks.
Sometimes you have those days of writing when you're intricately describing the way veins in a leaf can bleed through cells of liquid green and then you pause and you think to yourself... wait, maybe I don't want veins in my leaves, maybe my leaves should be needles instead.
And that makes you think, wait... maybe I don't want to be describing leaves, maybe I should step back and look at the tips of the branches, the way they knot and gnarl. Or maybe I don't want to deal with the spindly twigs, maybe I need to back up the camera more, gaze up at the canopy and blur the green.
Or maybe... maybe I don't want to be writing about trees at all. Maybe I want to be writing about flowers, great gopping mounds of color and petals dripping with ants.
But what if that's not right either? What if I don't want to be writing about nature at all? What if I've found myself waist deep in all these chapters having to do with leaves and I'm meant to be writing something else. What if I've no passion for leaves anymore? I just found myself writing them because I walked past a tree one day and thought, "Oh, that's passing interesting," and I started writing and now months later I have a treatise on these stupid leaves that aren't even right?
What if it's wrong? Not just every word, but every concept, down through the roots of it poisoning the soil? I've been mucking about in notions of leaves, shifting their hues, turning them dry and brown-edged and then back to wet sticky green trying to find what fits the story -- so obsessively wrapped up in the details -- when the entire concept could be totally wrong.
What if I'm supposed to be writing something more... better than leaves? More passionate, more noteworthy, more interesting, more original. But now I have all these words about leaves, what am I supposed to do with them? Burn them and use their smoke to signal for help? Start over and ignore that in a month I might wonder why I'm wrapped up in the way color shifts down the shaft of a cat's hair plucked from its tail and wonder if I should instead be describing the softness of white on a cat's belly or what if I should be writing about dogs and not cats or what if I shouldn't be writing about animals at all?
There are days like this, where the panic is so high in your throat you can taste it every time you breathe.
Libba Bray wrote something about it recently that was so perfect that when I sent it to my husband he said, "Yep, that sounds like you." Libba said you have to keep going and she's right.
I've learned to take a night off, let dreams replace the taste of panic in your mouth. It's always better in the morning and if not better, it's at least clearer. What looked like a yard of stale leaves after a late autumn storm might be more like a massive pile of possibilities waiting to be jumped into.
Sometimes you take a wrong turn and you end up talking about leaves when maybe you should be talking about flowers or cat hair or some other detail any one of a millions paths could lead to. In revisions I always say you should question everything -- there is nothing sacred in the draft.
Maybe tomorrow I'll love my leaves. Hopefully. But tonight I shall go out, spend time with friends, let the dark of night shutter the trees from my view. I've had enough of leaves today.
One of my goals this year has been to read more. I know that may sound strange given my profession, but I started realizing last year that I just wasn't reading enough. When I was growing up I'd devour books on the weekend, usually staying up until all hours of the night. Then, once I hit college I sort of... stopped. Sure I read for class but I rarely read for pleasure anymore.
Part of that was guilt -- the feeling that if I was going to read anything it should be the mounds of homework I was always behind on. Part of it was also my perceived lack of free time. Once I graduated I spent more time reading and the year before law school I practically lived off books as food -- I chewed through several a week.
Law school was a lot like college -- I felt that if I were going to take the time to read it should be the mounds of course work (again, I was always behind -- even if I was up to date with the assigned reading there was *always* something else to read such as study guides and outlines).
And that's when I realized how busy life could be (though I'd later learn it could get a WHOLE lot busier) and that if I wanted to have books in my life I had to make time for them. No longer was reading something I could binge on during a slow Saturday. That's when I made the conscious decision to read before bed every night.
Let me tell you... this step, almost more than anything else, made me feel like I was turning into my parents who always read before sleep. And now I realized why they did that -- there was no other time in the day. For a while this step solved my problem -- it got me in the habit of reading daily and I slowly made my way through the books on my to-be-read pile.
But last year I realized this short bit of reading time was no longer enough. I'm drowning in books so much that my to-be-read piles have become more like mountain ranges (as I type this I have 25 unread books just sitting on my coffee table, five tossed on the couch next to me, a dozen on my ereader and towers of them lined up against my dining room wall -- not to mention the bulging bookcases and stacks on every other horizontal surface in the house).
I could probably break the books down into categories: craft books, research books, friend books, CP books, blurb books and then general reading books (books that look good, recommended books, books to stretch my horizons, etc etc etc). But even then it's hard to prioritize what to read next (though CP books almost always skip to the head of the line -- I've read three in the past two weeks).
So I decided I needed to find more reading time. The first step was figuring out where I spent my time and how to shift it around and right away I noticed something: because reading is something almost always fun, it never feels like work. And because it doesn't *feel* like work I have a hard time allowing myself to focus on it during the work day even though it's something I should be doing for my job. I'd find myself haunting message boards or reading blogs before I'd put down the computer and pick up a book. For some reason, just being at the computer feels more like work that lounging with a book.
Really, all I had to do to find more reading time was (a) acknowledge it's part of my job and (b) allow myself to take the time to read. Simple, right? Sometimes it is -- especially editing CP books or skimming through craft or research books. Other times I have to make the conscious decision to step away from the computer and pick up a book.
At the end of the day I realized it comes down to this: prioritizing reading. During my tour I was talking with one of the media escorts who pointed out that if everyone gave up watching Wheel of Fortune (or some other 30 min show) every day and read instead they'd get through several books a year. I'm constantly talking to people who lament their lack of time to read but when you ask them about TV they'll go on and on about all the shows they watch.
I know how easy it is to let a reading life slip away -- to queue up the DVR rather than flip open a book or to think there are other things that have to come first. I've been there and sometimes I'm still there. This year I pledged to be more conscious about how I spend my time -- to think about what I prioritize and then divvy up the hours of the day accordingly.
I prioritize reading -- reading broadly, trying new books outside my comfort zone, trying to keep up with my obligations while still expanding my horizons. My day reflects that: I read first thing in the morning, last thing at night and hopefully more time in between.
Every day I choose to live a reading life and I hope that each of you choose to live your life according to your priorities as well, whether that be reading or some other passion.
I live! I have much to blog about but I've been lacking the time to actually sit down and write said blogs. And I haven't wanted to short-shrift my blog readers so I've ended up just sort of letting the days pass in blog silence. Sorry!
This same thing happened last year when I left for tour -- I tried to stay on top of things, tried to blog and tweet but then as time stretched thin I was lucky if I had a chance to speak to my husband before collapsing into bed at the end of the day. I just did a quick calculation and discovered that since mid-December I've been away from home more than I've been at home (in the last 137 days I've been away 71 of them and home 66).
Perhaps this accounts for the messy state of my house?
And of course I'm leaving town again. Sunday I head to Weslaco Texas to speak and the next weekend I'll be at the Edward's Memorial Library near Charlotte (hear that NC peeps? I'll be talking nearby! They'll be selling books! Come out! Details here.)
I've truly had amazing times with all the travel -- so much that it's difficult to put into words (and to find the time to wrangle said experiences into words). For example, last weekend I was the keynote speaker at Richland County Library's Kids in Print reception where they unveiled a truly fantastic literary magazine full of kid's poems, stories, photos, pictures, etc.
A friend of mine recently said that the best thing you can do in the world is find your tribe -- those people who are like you in so many ways. The librarians at the Richland County Library are totally my tribe (if they'd accept me). Seriously -- some amazing people down there (Columbia, SC -- my husband's local library growing up) and an equally amazing library.
In my scant time at home I've been diving back into the book I'm working on. I'm still in the obsessive plotting/craft stage which necessitates me taking lots of long walks as I figure out bits and pieces. Thankfully it's been *amazing* weather here and the park behind my house has a wonderfully sloping expanse of lawn that's perfect for lounging and pondering.
I've also read some great books! I shall share them! First, I'm a MASSIVE fan of Sarah MacLean. She gets better and better and the only thing I don't like is having to wait for more. Her latest Regency set romance, Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart just came out. It's awesome (and isn't YA, FYI). Go forth and purchase and love it as much as I do!
Second, I think I may have been remiss in posting about Saundra Mitchell's The Vespertine. This one has been out for a few months and I still can't stop thinking about it. She is a gorgeous writer and this one is full of yummy romance.
Third, Rage by Jackie Morse Kessler. I've actually had the first of this series, Hunger, at home and haven't read it. But Rage caught my eye and I started it on a whim and WOW. Her writing is stunning and the character is fascinating. I couldn't put it down -- truly phenomenal on all levels. This isn't a book for the faint at heart -- it's tough and raw and can be brutal emotionally but it shouldn't surprise anyone that these are the kinds of books that really stick with me.
Fourth: Wither. I actually read this several months ago (and blurbed) and it's finally out! Lauren DeStefano's writing is also very wonderful and I loved the claustrophobia of her dystopia. I'm definitely looking forward to the next in this series.
I know there are other books I've read and loved recently but they're scattered throughout the house and it's time for me to get back to working on that next book. I still hope to blog more about the amazing tour and other exciting things! Sorry for the long absence!
So remember how I mentioned I had some exciting secret projects? Well I can finally talk about one of them - yay! Last year I wrote an original Forest of Hands and Teeth short story for the Kiss Me Deadly anthology. This year, after a bit of revision with my editor, Delacorte Press packaged the story as a standalone ebook you can now download! It's a prequel to The Forest of Hands and Teeth about Sister Tabitha as a teen.
Here's the cover (which I LOVE):
And here's what it's about:
Tabitha can’t shake the feeling that something exists beyond the fences of her village. And when she sneaks out, past the gates and down the path into the Forest of Hands and Teeth, she meets a boy who teaches her heart things she never knew. But love in a world surrounded by so much death doesn’t come without its sacrifices, and Tabitha gradually realizes just how much she’ll have to give up to live among the Unconsecrated.
From New York Times bestselling author Carrie Ryan comes an original story of love after the Return.
I really loved writing Sister Tabitha's story. I realized as I revised The Forest of Hands and Teeth that we only got to see Tabitha from Mary's point of view and in Mary's eyes, Tabitha was nothing but overbearing and incapable of understanding her. To me, though, Tabitha was much more complicated. She had a reason for withholding information from the villagers and every action she took came out of love and a desire to protect the village. I wanted to understand how she got to be that way, what led her to take on the mantle of ruling this village so rigidly and why she believes so much in choice while not allowing those around her to truly make their own decisions.
So I wrote her story as a teen. As it turns out, Sister Tabitha was once a very very passionate young woman who had her own choices to make. When she begs Mary to stop dreaming about what lies beyond the fences, she has her reasons.
Squeee!!! I'm so SO excited to present the trailer for The Dark and Hollow Places! This is the short version, 15 seconds (not sure if I can share the reason for that yet... will have to ask but it's VERY VERY exciting). I think there's going to be a longer version released in the future and I'll definitely link to it when it comes out.
This is a scene taken right from the beginning of the book and I love it!
The Dark and Hollow Places officially released Tuesday and I've been having a total blast on tour, Thanks Chicago and Miami/Ft. Lauderdale (first tour recap post coming soon, I promise!). Thank you to everyone who has come out to say hi and hung around to chat about our favorite books (I'm keeping a running list of your reading suggestions!).
If you're in Chicago, Cincinnati, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, Los Angeles, Spartanburg, SC or Austin, I'm coming your way soon! Click here (my blog) or here (booktour.com) for more details!
I will be in Ft Lauderdale tonight for the Launch Party at The Museum of Art. Please note that this event starts at 6pm (not 7pm as I had previously listed). If you're in the area, come join us!
I'm super excited to welcome all you treasure hunters to my blog, especially since it's for a cause I believe in: the makey-outy scene. So, in honor of Cassandra Clare's treasure hunt for the scenes too hot to include in the trailer for City of Fallen Angels I thought I'd give a brief teaser of a kiss from The Dark and Hollow Places, the third book in my Forest of Hands and Teeth series, which comes out TOMORROW!
We're twirling so fast now that the force of it tries to pull us apart, but he holds me tighter, snowflakes spiraling around us. I let my head fall back and revel in the joy that erupts from every part of me for the first time in so long.
Finally, he stops and we stand there hiccuping and gulping frigid air. He reaches out absently and tucks a wet strand of hair behind my left ear, his fingertips just barely brushing my jaw. For a minute I forget to tense, forget to care that the hair was there to cover my scars, to hide me. For a minute I feel normal.
I don't let hesitation crowd my mind. Instead I let the buoyant freedom of the moment overwhelm me and I stretch up onto my toes and push my mouth against his.
Also, if you live in or near Miami/Ft. Lauderdale, Cincinnati, Chicago, Salt Lake City, Phoenix or Los Angeles I'm headed your way for tour starting today! Click here to find out where I'll be and come say hi!
So, now the clue you're looking for! Hello, treasure hunters! Your letter is : L
Your next blog is Kami Garcia and Margie Stohl, authoresses of Beautiful Creatures. Go!
This past weekend I attended a Colin Hay concert (you probably know him best as the singer for Men at Work). He's AMAZING in concert -- hilarious and talented. Seriously, if you ever have the chance to see him I highly recommend it!
So one of the songs he played was, Waiting For My Real Life to Begin, which is probably familiar to a lot of y'all:
And as I sat there listening to him the words really began to sink in and I thought about my life and where I am. I've been asked a lot recently about how I became a writer -- when I knew I wanted to become one and what I did about it. I know I've shared a lot of that story here before: I never realized I *could want* to become an author until I read an interview with a romance author in which she said she started writing when she read a book and thought "Hey, I could do that." I read those words and thought, "Wait, I could do that too!"
But I was in high school. I felt too young to write a book. So I waited. And when I graduated from college I started working on my first book and after a couple of years I put that aside to attend law school (which I don't regret in the slightest seeing as how that's where I met my husband... and also? I just really loved law school -- call me a nerd :)
I always thought I was too busy to do anything else in law school other than be a student. AHAHAHAHA! Once I started practicing law I realized just what it was to be busy. And I had this moment where I thought: I don't want to be doing this, practicing law, for the rest of my life. So I asked myself: if I could do anything, what would it be? The answer was easy: an author.
The next question became: what was I going to do about it? Because I really was busy, probably busier than I'd ever been at any other time in my life. And that's when I realized I had a choice: go after my dream of being a writer or let it go. I didn't see a sense in always saying to myself, "This is what I want more than anything else but I just can't be bothered to do anything about it."
Because there's a part of me that thought: what would have happened if I'd just kept writing through law school? Looking back I realized that I had the time -- I could have done it. I just didn't. I made excuses. If I'd written all through law school maybe I'd have gotten published, maybe I wouldn't have, but at least I'd have been farther along towards my ultimate goal.
And I realized: I don't want to wake up in five years and ask myself the same question.
It's funny how we do that with dreams: put them off. I wonder if we're afraid to chase them down because we fear they won't taste as sweet or because we're scared we can't catch them. I'm not going to lie, there's a terror in holding your dream in your hand because if you break it, you have only yourself to blame.
It's easy to tuck your chin to your chest and plow through life. I do it: focus on today's tasks and then tomorrow's tasks, and then the ones after that as the days roll past beneath me. Listening to Colin Hay sing the words, "I'm waiting for my real life to begin," made me step back and look at the larger picture -- how all the days piece together. You hear all these cliches about how life isn't a dress rehearsal, etc., and often they're meaningless but then there are those moments when you understand exactly.
I'm thankful that five years ago I decided not to wait for my life to somehow arrange itself to my liking. That I'm not waking up today and wondering, "What if I'd just started writing a book five years ago? Where would I be?"
In one week I leave for The Dark and Hollow Places tour! Wahoo! I can't wait to visit Miami, Chicago, Cincinnati, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, Los Angeles and Austin! All the details are here. This will be my fourth time in Chicago which is kind of neat because I feel like I have friends there now -- so many familiar faces and it's always cool being able to catch up :) I'm also very excited about the new stops to meet new readers (and see new places)!
However, if I'm not stopping in a city near you or if you're not able to come out, you can still get a personalized/ autographed book. My local indie, Park Road Books, is fantastic and only a few miles away which works out perfectly! At any time in the year you can place an order with them and I'll swing by to sign it. You can also pre-order a signed copy of The Dark and Hollow Places and they'll get it in the mail to you -- I'll be dropping by probably on Saturday, March 19 to sign them all so just make sure you get your order in before then (otherwise, I won't be able to sign any until I'm back in town on April 18).
Here are the details about ordering a signed book. Essentially it's as easy as giving them a call: 704-525-9239 and placing the order! Make sure to let them know how you want it personalized!
Okay, topic two is my signing policy. The venues hosting me go through a lot of planning and work to pull off these events even though they always make it all look so seamless and effortless. These booksellers are passionate about books and I couldn't be more honored that they're willing to expend some of that passion on my behalf. Therefore, I like to ask anyone coming to hear me speak -- if you're going to get a book signed, please purchase a book from the store. Every store has its individual policies on signings and so you'll want to check with them about what you can bring to be signed, etc.
Here's my policy: I'll sign anything (well, within reason - lol - if you have a massive stack I might ask you to run back through the line again so other people have a chance to get through). Or if you just want to show up to hear me talk and ask questions and not get anything signed, that's great too! But I would love it if, to show support for the store, you'd purchase a book from them (purchasing ahead of time is fine or purchasing someone else's book works too). Again, the store's individual policy on these things trumps mine so always check with them if you have a question! Thanks!
Finally... I have a bad memory. I joke about this a lot but it kind of gets both scary and frustrating when I'm traveling. I'm terrible with names -- HORRIBLE -- which is embarrassing and I'm sorry if/when I'm not able to remember yours. However, I do have a good situational memory which means that I just have to connect all the dots in my head so please, when you come up to meet me just remind me who you are. Tell me your twitter handle or your blog name (because I have a visual memory I'm likely to remember your handle picture - lol). Please don't think that because I can't remember your name, I don't remember you!
I'm headed out on tour! Over the course of many weeks I'll be in Miami, Chicago, Cincinnati, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, Los Angeles, Spartanburg SC and Austin! I'm so excited for all of these visits and would love to meet y'all in person! Here's the whole schedule!
Teaser Time!! The first TWO CHAPTERS of The Dark and Hollow Places are up online! Click here for the Chapter Sample from Random House Children's Books (link opens a .pdf file).
And not to forget about the recent release of The Dead-Tossed Waves paperback, I shared five bits of trivia about that book on Suvudu here.
The fantastically wonderful and NYT/USA Today/International bestselling author, Rachel Caine, blurbed The Dark and Hollow Places which thrills me to no end!! She wrote:
"Carrie Ryan has penned a story of the undead that magically, unexpectedly transforms into a painful, beautiful, aching story about life. I can't say it more plainly than this: I loved it. I wish I'd written it." - Rachel Caine, bestselling author of The Morganville Vampires
I can't believe that The Dark and Hollow Places comes out in 12 days. TWELVE DAYS!! It's funny because I've been asked a lot lately how it feels to have this series draw to a close which is a tough question to answer. First of all, I still have some short stories set in that world coming out this year but also... I feel like since I finished writing the book in 2010 that it ended a long time ago. I'm already excited about what comes next!
But honestly what it feels like is this... have you ever just focused on one day and then the next and suddenly you look up and a week or a month has gone by? That's what the release of The Dark and Hollow Places feels like. I've been putting one foot in front of the other and suddenly... the series is done. It kind of snuck up on me!
The past couple of days I keep looking up and realizing... soon I'll have three books on the shelf. THREE BOOKS! And there will be more coming (not in this series, but more!). This is a dream come true! Sure, I wanted this to happen, I've worked for this to happen, but when I sat down to write The Forest of Hands and Teeth over four years ago (actually, 1589 days to be exact since I have the email I sent to myself when I thought of the first line) I never every thought I'd be here. I dreamed I would one day make it here... but I probably wouldn't have taken the odds it would have happened like this :)
So how does it feel? Overwhelming. I think that's one reason that I can only lift my head up from the day to day and look around every now and again because otherwise I'll be stunned into inaction. I feel too lucky, almost as if it isn't fair. There's still so much more ahead of me that I'm crazy excited about, but sometimes it's nice to sit here and realize... wow. Three books.
And I wouldn't be here without y'all, so thank you!
Now to put my head back down and motor through the rest of my looming to-do list :)
Wake up -- I'm actually impressed this happens at a reasonable hour. I don't set an alarm but I've learned that I pretty much get out of bed just after JP leaves the house in the morning (which can throw me off if he leaves early for a meeting). He still doesn't believe this is the case (me actually getting out of bed) and he's been known to email me when he gets to work to see if I'm at my computer.1 He doesn't know I put my iPhone on the bedside table because I'm wise to this trick of his :)
Some mornings I'll read in bed because sometimes that's the only time I'll get to read all day and I've fallen SO VERY BEHIND. Or because I'm reading a book I can't put down which is always an awesome experience. Once I'm up, I drag on clothes -- whatever's handy (aka yoga pants and a t-shirt).
Let the dog in. Give the dog his pills. Follow dog around to ensure he swallows said pills (usually not a problem).
Check email -- I'd like to do what John Scalzi has done and put a moratorium on email until after my words are written but... I'm not that disciplined (yet - I live in hope). Checking email first leads to wails of despair at how very far behind I am and then I try to get through some of them. I might spend an hour on this. At the end I've accomplished much less than I feel I should have.
Listen to cat barf. Finish up email real quickly before going to clean up barf. Forget about barf.
Cook breakfast -- lately I've been on an eggs kick. So I go cook eggs and then eat them while reading the news. Send snippets of news to JP which inevitably start email conversations that trickle back and forth through the day.
Remember cat barf -- go find it and clean it. Ignore Dog's sad look that I wouldn't let HIM be the one to clean up cat barf because in his world that's considered a delicacy. Let dog out.
Check to-do list -- yes, sometimes I add things to my list just so I can check them off and feel accomplished. Here's a sampling of my current to-do list:
sign and mail books to editor
mail books from contests (figure out contests and what to mail)
send paperwork to mortgage company for refinance
clean house for appraisal (took a solid day)
design/order tour schwag
update website (yay! it's in the works!)
email two friends to set up dinner/lunch
taxes (collect and organize all data -- print out bank statements)
take Jake to vet for hip analysis (turns out he has a torn ACL, which means I must research repair options and schedule surgery)
answer interviews (STOP AVOIDING some interview questions just because I'm crazy late on them and so very very embarrassed)
set up goodreads contest(figure out if page was fixed). Check in on Goodreads contest, tweet about it.
check in on contracts for secret project (yes, SECRET PROJECTS!!!)
call for estimates on home repair
And then of course the perennial stuff: go to store, drop off/pick up dry cleaning (to be fair, JP usually does this but mostly that's because he's the only one with dry cleaning), go to the gym (ahahahaha, this still makes me laugh), run errands to post office, drop by local indie to set up pre-order signing, blog, etc. There's also the bigger stuff: revising short stories and books, writing short stories and books, etc. And also things like reading for blurbs, reading for friends, reading for research, critting, etc.
Let the dog in. Move coffee table out of the way so that dog can approach the couch from the other side in order to avoid the Mean Sleeping Kitty (it's either that or listen to him whine and our dog is a Champion Whiner).
Try not to stress about phone interview from newspaper. Keep checking the clock to make sure I am Prepared and Ready for phone call when it comes. Do interview, totally enjoy it and hang up with sense of excitement and glee.
Attempt to make some headway on the to-do list -- realize around 2pm that (a) I haven't eaten and (b) I haven't written (well, written on any of my writing projects). Figure out food -- whatever I can scrape from the cabinet. Realize I can't go out in public because I'd have to shower and that would take Too Much Time.
Skype with friend re: book (mine or theirs, take your pick). Friend has AMAZINGLY perfect idea for the idea I've been toying with. Drop everything to write up a synopsis and send it to my amazing agent.
Dog barks: UPS man here!
Turn on MacFreedom to enforce some internet-free quality time. Get words written. Hopefully.
Agent's emailed back! Engage in banter with him about exciting idea. Remember yet again how much I adore my agent (Jim McCarthy at Dystel & Goderich). Day dream about exciting idea.
Aim to go to the gym at 4:00 before the after-work crowd. Perhaps arrive at 5:15 along with the after work crowd. Fight way onto elliptical and read or listen to writing podcast. Eavesdrop while in the sauna.
Or, due to aforementioned timing, just turn on the xBox kinect and dance :) Dance, dance, DANCE! Realize how out of shape I am after fifth pass through Poker Face and pledge to hit the gym tomorrow. Or, if it's a gorgeous day, I'll take a walk (can't wait for dog's knee to be fixed so he can join me again).
Get back to writing. Neighbors are home -- dog wants out so he can bark at them. Let dog out to bark because he only has one week of freedom before surgery and eight weeks of being cooped up for recovery and he should have fun while he can.
Spend two hours trying to cobble HTML into a facebook landing page (it worked! Check it out here! And while you're there you could always hit the like button :)
JP comes home. Run towards the door with dog in excitement to see him (dog stops to pick up a toy offering making me feel empty handed). Babble about day because I like to Talk and I haven't been able to do Enough of It today. If it's still light out, maybe take a walk through the park. If it's late, throw something from freezer into the microwave and sit down to eat, watch an hour or so of TV and then read before bed.
Rinse. Repeat.
That's pretty much what my days this week have looked like. The week before last I travelled Thurs-Fri which involved a delayed flight, missed flight, and sprint through the airport to catch the last leg home. I think all told I figured I'd been traveling for 21/39 hours. BUT, I was able to get a big chunk of a short story written during all the delays and that made me Very Very Happy!
This post describes what I call a "drafting" day when I'm not overly crunched by deadlines. My revising days always look different and my "Deadline Is Looming days" put a lot more emphasis on the writing. Right now I'm waiting on edits from my editor and am trying to tie up a bunch of loose ends before heading out on tour so my days are a bit more scattered than they are otherwise. Or at least, it feels that way.
I shall have more to say on this topic soon (and feel free to ask any questions in the comments!)
1 BTW, he doesn't really check in on me to make sure I'm working -- this is really a joke between JP and I more than anything else. I'm extremely lucky that, because he also writes, JP understands the ins and outs of my job and is phenomenally supportive.
Only three weeks until The Dark and Hollow Places comes out which means... time for a teaser! So, without further ado, here's the opening:
This city used to be something once. I’ve seen pictures of the way it gleamed—sun so bright off windows it could burn your eyes. At night, lights shouted from steel like catcalls, loud and lewd, while all day long white-gloved men rushed to open doors for women who tottered about on skyscraper heels.
I wonder sometimes what happened to those women when the Return hit—how they were able to run and survive with such absurd contraptions strapped to their feet. How different the world must have been before—safe and comfortable.
The City’s nothing like that anymore. Now, bare beams scrape the sky like splintered finger bones. Half the high-rises have fallen, and scavengers pilfered the intricately scrolled ironwork long ago. There’s not much of anything left anymore, just the fear that seeps fog-like through the streets.
Fear of the Recruiters. Fear of the Unconsecrated. Fear of tomorrow.
Even so, this city’s been my home. Other than the village I lived in as a child, this is the only world I’ve known. It’s sharp-cornered and raw but it’s a refuge for those with a burn to survive. You pay your rents, you follow the rules and you do what it takes to keep living.
Which is why I find myself on the Neverlands side of the Palisade wall that cordons off and protects the Dark City as the last dregs of evening slide across the sky. This is the place where Elias would go when he was desperate for money, desperate to trade so we could pay our rent and stay in our tiny flat for another year. It’s the place where anything can be found for the right trade, and where, after the blade of my only knife broke this afternoon, I’ve come for help.
Clutching the replacement blade tightly, I’ve started to cross over one of the bridges strung between two buildings when I hear a deep rumbling cough. It’s approaching dusk and storm clouds hover over the river, causing the light to drip a dull green. I shuffle faster toward the next roof, determined to get back to my flat in the Dark City before full night, but as soon as my foot lands on the rickety bridge connecting the buildings a voice calls out, “Wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I freeze, the frayed rope railing in one hand. I’ve been alone long enough to have learned to look out for myself, yet something about the warning makes me hesitate. Just as I start to take another step the voice says, “Look down,” and I do.
The alley a dozen stories below is dim and choked in shadows, but even so I see something moving. A moan floats up, echoing softly between the buildings as it rises. The sun breaks through a narrow gap in the clouds and the light reflects down the alley, glinting briefly off what looks like eyes and a row of cracked teeth.
As my gaze adjusts I can make out dozens of clawing fingers reaching for me amid a pile of broken bodies that should have died from their fall but didn’t. Or maybe they did die and infection’s brought them back as plague rats. I shiver, disgust rolling through me.
Carefully, I inch back onto the roof, noticing how the wooden boards I was just about to walk onto are rotten. One step more and I’d have been down on that heap as well.
“You’re the first one to listen to me and not take a dive,” the voice says, and I spin, pulling my new knife between us. A woman sits tucked between two crumbling stone chimneys. In her hand she clutches a charred wooden pipe that feebly chokes out smoke.
I glance around the roof, expecting some sort of trap. The woman gestures toward my knife. “Don’t bother,” she says. “Just me up here.”
She puts the pipe back in her mouth, the end of it burning a bright red, and in that instant I get a clear look at her face: thick dark lines painted around eyes smudged by tears or sweat or both. Then the ember fades, pulling her back into shadow.
But not before I see the raw circle around her wrist, festering with infection. The flesh edging the wound puffs and oozes, and I recognize it as a bite. I pull my knife back up between us, refusing to let it shake.
I’m usually pretty good at avoiding any confrontation with the Unconsecrated. No matter how careful you are, there’s always the risk that something will go wrong and they’ll get their teeth into you one way or another.
The woman shrugs and inhales. The light makes her skin glow again and I watch how her hand trembles. Cracks etch through the powder she used to make her old skin appear blushing and fresh—it looks like a fractured mirror instead.
I think of my own face, the scars overlaying the left side of my body like a thick spider web. Her cracks can be washed away. Mine can’t.
It’s easy to see that she’s close to the end—when the infection will kill her. I glance down again at the pile of bodies below, their feeble moans filtering into the night. She’ll be one of them soon. If she’s lucky someone will take care of her before she turns. If she isn’t…
I swallow.
With a sickening heaviness in my stomach I realize I’m the one who’s going to have to kill her.
*insert ominous music here*
So, just to recap... here are the details: The Dark and Hollow Places is the third Forest of Hands and Teeth book and will be coming out March 22, 2011. You can pre-order a copy here: IndieBound | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Borders | Personalized/Autographed Copies. And if you don't feel like waiting that long, you can enter to win one of ten signed Advanced Reader Copies (ARCs) here:
Giveaway ends March 13, 2011.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads. “The best dystopian novel we’ve read, period.” -Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl, NYT bestselling authors of Beautiful Creatures and Beautiful Darkness
A huge thanks to everyone who has already read The Dark and Hollow Places and let me know what you thought -- it means so much to me!! Only three more weeks!!!!!
I know I owe y'all a post about what the Writing Life actually looks like in reality (following up on an earlier post) but I'm going to bump that post to next week because there's something else that's been occupying my mind.
Yesterday I received some very sad news. A friend of mine, YA author L.K. Madigan, passed away. She'd written a very eloquent blog post about her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer and still, I wasn't prepared for her to actually die. I guess in my mind I'm not ready for my friends to die. I'm too young. She was too young. She had so many exciting things in her life and then... it just seemed too fast. So unfair.
And then, on the same day that I learned this news on Twitter (of all places) there was also something else going on. Maureen Johnson woke up and decided to do something good for the world. She tweeted about an organization a friend of hers works for called Shelterbox that essentially sends boxes of necessary supplies to people in need after disasters. Each Shelterbox costs about $950 and she wanted to raise enough money to buy one Wednesday. As an incentive, she pledged her last ARC of her forthcoming release, The Last Little Blue Envelope and pledged to make up the difference in donations to fund the one box.
I knew that Twitter could be a force for good, but watching this expand over the course of a day was pretty extraordinary. Other authors offered giveaways and donated money. People spread the word. And at the end of the day Maureen raised enough money to fund SIX ShelterBoxes. Plus enough donations of schwag to hold another fundraising day today.
It was heartening, last evening, to watch my twitter feed: friends and colleagues expressing sorrow over Lisa's passing and joy in her life. Others donating money so that those in need could find some relief. It really made me understand that life can be so hard and so sad, and yet there's such a community of loving people always there.
I'm so grateful to feel a part of this community -- this group of people who, through large and small acts, accomplish great things. Thanks for reminding me of all the awesome in the world on a day when I was reminded of the sad.
I'm so excited that I get to hit the road for the release of The Dark and Hollow Places (comes out March 22, 2011)! I had such a blast last year meeting readers and fellow book lovers and hanging out and I'm thrilled to be doing it again! Here are the preliminary details on the tour!!
click image to make bigger so you can read all the fun details!
Monday, April 11, 2011 from 7:00-9:00 PM
Spartanburg, SC
Hub City Bookshop
I'm giving a writing workshop on how to put tension on every page, especially when it comes to writing YA. Space is limited -- click here for more information!
April 12 - April 15, 2011
Austin, TX
TLA (I don't have a schedule of events yet and don't know what will be open to the public but will post when I do)
Also, I do hope to set up a signing in Charlotte this spring... still working on the details!
As always, you can find details about my upcoming events here (yes, that's a backdated post but it's where my website points to so I can update it easily on the road). If there are any changes to my tour schedule (which there likely will be as we're still early in the game) I'll be making them to THAT POST.
I used to be a lawyer who measured my time by 6 minute increments. For a few years, I was able to devote one or two of those increments to this blog a few times a week. In October 2007 sold my debut novel, THE FOREST OF HANDS AND TEETH, to Delacorte Press (it came out March 10, 2009 and hit the New York Times bestselling list in 2010). In October 2008 I quit my lawyer job and now I'm a full-time writer.
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