Bio:

Blurb:

Carolyn Samuels is obsessed with the idea of being popular. She is convinced that the only thing keeping her from happiness is her too heavy for fashion body and not being a cheerleader. Hyperventilating when she gets nervous doesn’t help. When she is paired for a math project with the girl who tormented her in middle school, Jennifer Taylor, she is sure it is going to be another year of pain. With Carolyn’s crush on Jennifer’s hunky junior quarterback, Brad her freshman year in high school looks like a rerun of middle school. When Jennifer is the only student who knows why she fell in gym class, Carolyn is blackmailed into doing her math homework in return for Jennifer’s silence. Jennifer takes on Carolyn as a pity project since she can’t be seen with someone who dresses in jeans and sweatshirts. When Jennifer invites Carolyn to spend the night to make her over and teach her to tumble, Carolyn learns Jennifer’s secret and lies to her own friends to cover it up. Will Carolyn become a cheerleader and popular? Does she continue to keep Jennifer’s secret? Or will she be a target of this mean girl again?

Excerpt:

Feeling my old hatred of gym, I glance across the locker room and see Jennifer in red designer shorts and a tight sleeveless shirt to match. She’s standing in front of the only mirror in the room turning back and forth.

Becky and I slide into our loose camp shorts and a T-shirt, and once they’re on, we race onto the gym floor. Always better to be early for gym the first day.  You never knew what kind of teacher you’d have. My athletic ability is zero, so I don’t take chances. Once I was a few minutes late, and the gym teacher in middle school made me run around the gym ten times. It took me the whole gym period.

Becky and I sit on the low seats in the bleachers, but Jennifer and her group saunter into the gym and choose the highest seats avoiding the rest of us. Miss Gaylon, the gym teacher introduces herself and gives us a few minutes until the last stragglers come from the locker room.  For those few minutes, I almost feel comfortable. My breathing returns to normal. I hear giggles from Jennifer and her group, but I ignore it.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad this year, Carolyn.” Becky always tries to cheer me up now. This wasn’t true a few years ago. I had to cheer her up a lot. Becky’s brothers are just turning five, and they’re both in kindergarten. Her mom remarried after being divorced for ten years. Becky was just getting used to her new stepfather when her mom got pregnant. I remember how miserable Becky was the first year of middle school when her mom spent so much time with her twin brothers and didn’t have enough time to help Becky with her homework. Luckily, Becky’s stepfather is a history teacher, so she got very interested in history and current events.

“Right, Becky, and maybe I’ll learn to be a gymnast in ten minutes. Reality check, remember last year?”

“Okay, I’m hoping it won’t be so bad.”

“You mean like the dentist finding you only have one cavity and filling it the same day?”

“You’re so lame, Carolyn. Since we’re all older, maybe she’ll treat us differently. People change over the summer you know.”

“Look at her, Becky.”

Becky turns to look over at the group at the top of the bleachers and then turns back to look me in the eye. “You know you have to put that stupid day behind you.”

I pretend not to know what she’s talking about. “What stupid day?”

Like I don’t remember every detail.

“The zip line day.”

“Oh, that day,” I say with a combination grimace and smile. “The day I wound up having to climb off the platform. I wanted to bore a hole into the ground so I wouldn’t have to walk past them but couldn’t, and everyone screamed at me: ‘Breathe, Carolyn, breathe.’”

“You have to admit it was funny the way the gym teacher ran up the ladder like a squirrel to rescue you. Everyone laughed at how stupid she looked. Jennifer got the whole class going with that ridiculous ‘breathe, Carolyn, breathe.’” Becky looks behind her to Jennifer. “You know I wanted to run over and punch her, but I couldn’t because I was still on the platform, and it was my turn to go.”

“Yeah, if I had a few more minutes, I would have been able to get up the courage to grip the zip line and hook myself to it. Stupid teacher didn’t give me a chance. This not breathing thing when I get nervous really sucks.”

Becky nods because she knows me so well.

“So then Jennifer started with that horrible chant, and of course, the whole class followed her, like always.” My eyes fill with tears as I remember, and my breathing is getting worse by the minute.

“I thought it was a dumb idea to do ropes course stuff in school. We did it at my camp the summer before, and no one was forced to do it. Anyone could get nervous with Jennifer in front of them,” Becky comforts me.

I continue talking as if I’m in a trance. “Remember how last year whenever I ran into Jennifer she would whisper ‘breathe, Carolyn, breathe,’ so no one could hear it except me. Once she did it just before I had to go up in front of the class in math.   Sometimes she would do it in front of everyone and, of course, get a big laugh while I wanted to turn into a piece of furniture.”

Becky grabs my arm.  “Do we have to go back over this again? You need to forget about it.” She takes her hand away from my arm as I continue to speak.

“Becky, I can’t. The thing is it’s this bad movie in my brain looping the same horrible scenes. The funny thing is, most of the time, she would ignore me. I would never know what she was going to do. You have to admire someone so single-minded she managed to get to me at just the right time.

You remember don’t you? And today did you see how she wore the same outfit as me? It’s spooky.”

My funny breathing returns as Miss Gaylon tells us to line up on the yellow line alphabetically. I hope there will be someone to go between Jennifer and me. No luck. Jennifer is going to be behind me all year. I hold my breath. I couldn’t stand more of the same this year. I pray for the day to end soon. A glance at my new watch shows me fifteen more minutes left of the period. Is Miss Gaylon’s voice getting lower?  What is that pounding in my ears?

Jennifer turns to face me, and I hear, “Breathe, Carolyn, breathe.” Then my world turns black.

An Interview with Jennifer Taylor from If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor

Welcome, Jennifer. I know you have a very busy schedule and I’m so glad
you could take a few minutes to talk with us.

Jennifer: Well, I thought it was important I get my side of the story out
there. After all, Carolyn has been going on all these blogs and bad
mouthing me. So I figured, well, we figured, that is Brad and I figured
I better get on here and tell my story. Who is Brad, you ask? He’s my
boyfriend and he’s the number one quarterback on the Mill Valley Vikings.

That’s my school’s team. I’m a freshman at Mill Valley High School and if
everything goes right I’ll be in the Olympics in a couple of years. My coach
says I have a really good chance if I continue to practice. I’m the best on
the team, but I have a problem.

What is your problem, Jennifer?

Jennifer: It’s hard to explain, but it started when I really wanted to be in
the Olympics. I had to be a certain weight to stay on the team. I mean the
coach weighed us every day and if we gained any weight he gave us a
few days to lose it or he would make us sit on the bench during practice.
So, in middle school I liked to eat and I kept gaining weight. One day I
had enough of not practicing so I decided to stop eating. Oh that worked
great! I got all mean and yes, that is when I started bothering poor little
Carolyn about her stupid breathing. That day I started it was a big joke,
but then it was so much fun to keep bothering her. She’s like a scared little
mouse. Maura, she’s my best friend, and I had so much fun deciding where
I should get her next. Meanwhile, I got so hungry I would stuff myself with
food and feel so guilty. One night I just got rid of it, you know how. After
that it was easy and I stayed at the right weight, except sometimes I stop
eating again. No one knows about this, not even Maura or my parents. No
one from my school will see this, right?

No, of course not.

Why did you decide to help Carolyn?

Jennifer: Now I can’t really say why I did and maybe it’s best if I don’t tell
you about that.

Maybe the girl just got to me. How pathetically she dressed and how she
only hung out with her two friends Becky and Janie. I mean when we did
the food survey she only knew those two. But it might be something else
and you know I would rather not say, it’s kind of private.

Do you think you are a “mean girl”?

Jennifer: If you go to Mill Valley High School you will see I am the most
popular girl in the whole school. I have the best looking guy as a boy friend
and people really like me. Is that the profile of a mean girl? Maybe if I were
Carolyn Samuels I might think of myself as a mean girl. I have been pretty
mean to her. But she really deserved it with her dweeby friends and her
breathing problem. So, no, I don’t think of myself as a “mean girl’.

Jennifer, it has been very interesting talking with you and I’m glad you got
to tell your side of the story. We can learn more about Jennifer Taylor and
Carolyn Samuels in the recently published YA novel, If I Could Be Like
Jennifer Taylor by Barbara Ehrentreu from MuseItUp Publishing available
in both ebook and paperback:

The Muse Bookstore: (only ebook)

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Also please visit Barbara Ehrentreu’s blog:

http://barbaraehrentreu.blogspot.com

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/behrentreu

Twitter:
@Barbehr

Please leave Jennifer a comment telling her about your own freshman year
in high school. Do you think she is a mean girl? One of you will win a free
pdf e-book of If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor.

 Welcome Penny Estelle to my blog!  I was excited to meet her and get a look at her work and I hope you are too.  Leave a comment on the blog and win a free pdf copy of either “Hike up Devil’s Mountain” or “A Float Down the Canal,” your choice!

1. When did you first realize you were a writer?

I would probably have to say one year ago when I actually got a contract! I remember getting an email from Solstice Publishing offering me a contract for Hike Up Devil’s Mountain. I think I started hyper-ventilating. I screamed and my husband came running in to see what was wrong. We danced around a little bit, cracked a bottle of champagne (I think it was 8:30 am) and then I felt like a writer, because I could actually say, I have a story published.
2. What do you find is the hardest aspect of being a writer?

Can I give 2 answers? First, just sitting down to write. There is so much involved with trying to market and promote, sometimes actual writing takes a back seat. Second, is my patience level. You write, edit, edit more, and it’s ready to be sent in – then you wait!

3. Tell us about your work.

I have 2 books out and one coming out this month (yea) Hike Up Devil’s Mountain is about 3 boys who get in a world of trouble. Their only hope live on Devil’s Mountain. The story is how they try to reach the top and the dangers they face on their way up. It has a surprise ending that you just don’t see coming!

A Float Down the Canal is about a twelve-year girl who has to cancel all her plans to watch her brother and his friend, and then learns her prissy cousin is coming over for her to entertain as well. Pam Simpson is always the pal, one of the gang, second fiddle, and her cousin wants to help change this. This story tells how Pam’s worst day ever, ends up being one she will never forget and it all starts with a Float Down the Canal.

Billy Cooper’s Awesome Nightmare, due out this month, is about 7th grader, Billy Cooper. Everyone in class has to do an oral report on whatever historical subject they draw from a box. Billy figures he will do a quick search on the computer and skate by on this assignment, but all that changes when he comes face to face with his 14th century subject!

4. What’s your favorite part of writing books for children and young adults?

I was a secretary for 21 years for a school principal. I have heard so many excuses from kids as to why they are in trouble or why it isn’t their fault, etc. Most of the kids that came to see the principal had a way of getting under my skin – in a good way. I love a kid with a great sense of humor and sarcasm.

I really like doing the dialogue in my stories. Kids of today are unique in their speech and showing emotions. I love it. I also have 5 kids and 7 grandkids. Most of my dialogue, I can hear coming out of their mouths as I type!

5. Now that you’re published, what has changed in your view when it comes to writing and publishing?

Oh my gosh, that is a really simple question for me to answer. I figured when I signed that contract, the money would start pouring in. HA! The writing part is easy. I am still learning the ways to market and promote. This process is not for sissies!

6. How important of a role do you believe social media will play in your success as a published author?

I think it will be huge! Honestly, I am not the best at promoting myself. My husband tells everybody he meets, “Hey, my wife is an author! Have a bookmark! Visit her website!” It’s almost embarrassing. Twitter, websites, blogs, facebook – these are a must!

I actually got Janet Evanovich to answer 3 questions for me on my blog (I know, isn’t that awesome?) I asked her, how much time she spends with social media. She said none! She’s my hero. Someday I want to be that good!!!

7. What one piece of advice do you have for unpublished writers?

If you are writing for the money, chances are you may be disappointed. Write because you love to put stories down on paper. Write, write, and write some more!

8. Tell us about your next project.

I am hoping to do a series called the Wickware Sagas. It is along the lines of my story Billy Cooper’s Awesome Nightmare. Today’s kids, meeting historical legends of years gone by. I think the stories could be funny, adventurous, and with a little education thrown in, would make a great series.

9. Where do you see yourself as an author in the next ten years?

Have you ever seen the film or read the book, The Secret? You see what you want to happen – soooooo, I’m going to say I see myself sitting on my balcony of my beach house on the San Diego coast, looking out into the Pacific Ocean, with my laptop and typing The End to my 5 greatest American Novel!

10. Where can we go to find about more about you and your books?

My website is www.pennystales.com My blog is www.pennyestelle.blogspot.com
@pennystales – twitter

Hike Up Devil’s Mountain –  available from the publisher, Amazon, and Smashwords 

Float Down the Canal – available from Smashwords, Sony, and Kobo

11. Finally, would you be so kind as to share an excerpt of your work with us?

Escerpt from Hike Up Devil’s Mountain

The boys looked into a black gaping hole, the size of a basketball. The top was lined with tiny razor sharp teeth. From the bottom, two, huge jagged teeth jutted out over the top, like elephant tusks.
The sucking in of Danny’s breath could hardly be heard, but it was loud enough. Time froze! Andy didn’t draw a breath, but his heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he was sure this thing would be able to hear it.

It looked first to the right and then slowly to the left. A low growl could be heard way down in its throat, waiting to erupt. Neither Andy nor Danny moved a muscle. Two large, dull, red globes with black slits in the middle of each globe, scanned the room, and then slowly looked down.

It took only seconds for the thing to focus in on his unexpected guests. The black slits in its eyes practically disappeared to tiny dots and the eyes turned from dull to a blood red. The bellow was as loud a noise as Andy had ever heard.

Danny screamed and ran for his life. He ran through the tunnel on the right.

Andy was right behind him, but the monster’s tail came around knocking Andy back against the rock and blocking the entrance. He was back on his feet in a flash, diving through the partially opened second tunnel. Andy felt one of the claws brush through his hair.

The monster’s roar followed him down the tunnel. Andy looked over his shoulder and saw the monster trying to get through the narrow opening. He tripped, falling down hard. When he looked back, the thing was gone.

The Month of May I’ve joined the Summer Teen Reading Party!  Get your kindles and nooks loaded up with a bunch of brand new YA and MG novels to get ready for summer.  I know a few of these authors personally, and I’m super excited to meet the others!  You can view the whole event here or check out a list of all the authors involved.  There’s prizes, book giveaways, sales for books for $1.99 and $0.99, and loads of great interviews and excerpts to enjoy.  I’ll be joining the fun and tweeting about the event all month as well.

On my own blog I’m interviewing Penny Estelle on May 5th.  Interviewing Barbara Ehrentreu on May 17th.  Then I have a guest post from Marva Dasef on May 20th, and a guest post from Kate Fuentes on May 28th!  I’ll also be giving away a copy of one of my books on each of those days on their blogs where I’m featured in return.  I’ll post those links on the day each person is hosted as well, but check out the full schedule for a bunch of giveaways and prizes.

This last week I was sick, which is why I failed to blog last Monday, but I made up for it by reading a great deal.  Among a lot of reading old favorites (Earthsea books and The Enchanted Forest Chronicles) I also ready a fascinating non-fiction book “The Dance of 17 Lives: The Incredible True Story of Tibet’s 17th Karmapa” by Mick Brown.  Now, prior to reading this, I had never heard of the Karmapa, a religious figure similar to the Dali Lama who escaped with him originally when he fled Tibet.  This Karmapa though was the next one, a child identified in Tibet who grew up under Chinese supervision until at the age of 14 he also fled the country.

I picked up this book with several from the library about Tibet for research on my new project, a fantasy novel that steals elements from Chinese and Tibetan history.  It however, reads more like a memoir than a history.  About half the chapters cover the 17th Karmapa’s childhood, identification, troubles  in China, and eventual escape.  Every other chapter was about church politics between the students of the 16th Karmapa who disagreed over if the right boy had been chosen.  I thought that would be boring, but found myself fascinated instead… and now inclined to write a different book about church politics… it’s been very helpful for another project I have with a priest character of a fantasy religion.

The one caveat is the book is written by a western follower of Tibetan Buddhism, so while he’s fair and balanced in talking about the politics between different monks, he has a few places he gets rather overly sentimental about both the Dali Lama and the Karmapa.  However, the memoir tone of the book made this feel not as out of place as it might be in a history book and the tone generally worked for making it an easy and enjoyable read.

Finally, for the month of May, “A School for Villains” is on sale for $1.99 at Smashwords and Barnes & Noble.  Amazon should price match in about a week.

Growing up, I was in love with Bill Peet’s picture books.  My mother’s dislike for their “cartoony” illustrations and “preachy” messages only seemed to fuel my enjoyment of them and my desire to check them all out of the library (she would not buy us any of them).  That and Babar, which she also hated.  I liked the energy of Bill Peet’s pictures, especially his monsters, and the depressing tone to many of the tales didn’t bother me.  If there was anyone who knew what kids liked, it was certainly Bill Peet.

My brother is lending me a bunch of books because he’s going off to college and so needs somewhere to store them for four years.  One of his books, which I’d browsed when visiting him, is “Bill Peet: An Autobiography.”  Since it had been good when sampling it, I asked to borrow it, and ended up reading the whole thing yesterday evening.  It’s wonderfully readable, in part because each page has at least as much illustration as words, a picture book for adults.  It makes the autobiography about the size of a coffee table book, but its a delight to flip through, and the text is large and easily accessible.  I can’t tell if it’s meant for adults or children, in that it’s so easy to read, and yet he is so frank about adult life issues, poverty, raising children, and office politics under Walt Disney.  I think it’s the sort of book anyone could read, but you get a lot more out of as an adult reader.

Several things stood out to me from reading it.

• Bill Peet never stops drawing.  He drew constantly from a young age to the present.  Drawing is like breathing for him.
• Writing didn’t come naturally to him.  Peet was convinced he was horrible, until Walt Disney in a fit of weird temper started insisting he write full length animated screen plays.  For some reasons, Peet had no trouble doing this, and it gave him confidence in his story telling on his own.  He also kept practicing writing to improve, even though it took years and he tended to fall back into drawing instead out of frustration
• Peet always had a back-up plan, even if it kept changing, other than working for Disney.  He knew the job was unreliable and would eventually drive him nuts, even if he kept doing it for 27 years or something.  It was inspiring and fascinating to hear him talk about the various back-up income plans he worked out and his failures before his children’s books took off.  The main thing is, he never kept looking for a way out, the next step to what he wanted to do for his career.

It makes me wonder, what goals do I want to set for myself and work?  When do I give up and when to I press forward?  And it makes me grateful that I don’t have Walt Disney for a boss, even if also sounds like he challenged him in positive ways.  He didn’t make him sound like he was someone it was easy, or nice, to know personally.

It also makes me think that I should take up drawing again.  I’m the opposite in that I write constantly, and when I try to draw I give up and just write instead.  But maybe if I stuck with it a bit longer, I’d be more satisfied with my work.  I also feel the need to go to the library… and check out as many Bill Peet books as I can find.

This week in honor of the release of my friend Marva Dasef’s new book (and final book of her excellent series “The Witches of Galdorheim”) I am hosting her book and she has written a fastening post about the mythological skrat.

***

SCOTCH BROOM: Book 3 of The Witches of Galdorheim

A magical trip to Stonehenge lands a witch in the Otherworld where an ancient goddess is up to no good.

Marva Dasef’s website
MuseItUp Buy Link – Available beginning April 6th
Scotch Broom Trailer

Blurb:

Kat expects to have a great time on her graduation trip to Stonehenge. However, from the moment she leaves the witches’ arctic island, Galdorheim, she gets in nothing but trouble. Her younger half-brother tries to horn in on her trip, she gets lost in the magical Otherworld realm, is led astray by a supposed friend, then she has to confront a Scottish goddess who’s fallen on hard times.

While dodging the goddess’ minions and trying to find her way out of the Otherworld, Kat soon learns she shouldn’t underestimate the old has-been for one second; the crone still has a few tricks that can drain a witch’s magic in a flash. To make matters worse, Kat’s brother secretly followed her into the Otherworld. Now he’s in danger too. Kat has to go one on one with the goddess to save herself and her brother.

Watch Marva’s Blog for announcements on giveaways throughout the Merry Month of May.

The Skrat

Besides the big ol’ gods, legends, and spirits–the ones that get all the press–myths are populated with a myriad of often tiny, more often unmentioned beings. Their job as minor characters in the mythos is not always mentioned, but they exist (well, in the mythical sort of existence) nonetheless.
While writing the Witches of Galdorheim series, I delved into western European mythos finding the supporting cast for my books. Like bit players everywhere, they often ended up on the cutting room floor.

For example, in the opening scene of Bad Spelling, I mention tussers and tomtes. Raise your hand if you can tell me what they are. No peeking at the book OR the internet! Right, you’ve never read the book (except for a couple of you), so you’d not have a clue. Please note in the comments if you already know. Anyone? Go look it up in the Encyclopedia Mythica.

In the third Witches of Galdorheim book, Scotch Broom, I elevate one such small-time player to the exulted role of minion. If you watched the Ice Age animated films, you might be familiar with the proto-squirrel (with fangs) named Scrat.
The screenwriter either made the name up or also hit the Encyclopedia Mythica like I did. If the latter, then he simply used the name because a skrat is not a proto-squirrel at all.

One of the many creatures that are said to move into the farmhouses from time to time is the skrat. He usually lives in a beech tree or a cave and looks like a chicken that has been caught in a downpour. His wingtips and tail drag on the ground. He may also transform himself into a small bird, a goose, a dog or cat, or even a hair-covered man. Any family he lives with becomes rich.

Excerpt:

Here’s a brief scene illustrating the skrat playing its minion role.

A scratching at the door caught her attention. Walking over, she peered through the peephole but didn’t see anyone. “Oh, bother. Is some spoiled brat trying to play tricks on the old woman?” She grabbed the handle and jerked the door open, screaming, “I’ve got you!”

Nobody stood on her porch. A clucking made her look down. A scraggly, wingless chicken, looking as if it’d been out in the rain, crouched at her feet. The skrat stood on four wobbly legs, staggered around Cailleach’s legs and into the house. It squatted by the fire and ruffled its feathers.

Cailleach glared at the scruffy creature. She never could tell one from the other, but they had their uses. “What do you want, Skrat? I’m busy—”

Skrat spoke in a high-pitched, ragged tone as if he was gargling pebbles. “I have news.”

Cailleach stepped closer. The skrats didn’t bother her unless they had something good to report. “Tell me.”

“Witch is near.”

The hag considered for a moment. “Is it one of the Wiccans? They’re harmless. Always collecting plants for some potion or another.”

“Wiccan, yes, but witch, not wannabe.”

Cailleach narrowed her eyes and plucked at the hair growing from her chin. “Where, exactly?”

“In bogs.”

“Why would a real witch be there? Staking out territory?” The crone pondered a moment then looked down at the skrat, which had not dried out at all.

“You watch. Bring your brothers with you. Report thrice daily to tell me what she’s up to.”

The skrat nodded its featherless head. “What you pay?”

Cailleach aimed a kick at the skrat, but it scuttled out of the way. “Bother! You’re always asking about pay. Have I ever shortchanged you?”

“No. Want to tell brothers.”

Cailleach glared at the creature. “A month’s grain for each of you.”

“Done. I go now.”

The skrat wobbled to the open door and departed. Cailleach closed it behind the creature and returned to her fireplace. She swished the brew in the cauldron a few times.

“Bah. This isn’t right. It should be green by now. Besides, it stinks.” She hefted the handle and dragged the cauldron to the sink. Grunting, she lifted it and tipped the rim, pouring the slimy yellow guck down the drain. She had no more time for experimenting with ancient formulas. If this invading witch was out for a fight, Cailleach needed to be ready to give her one.

Note: Cailleach is the Scottish Celtic goddess of winter fallen on hard times in the present day world. She’s tired, aging, a mere vestige of her former glory, but a scheming old bitch like her won’t ignore opportunities when they fall from the sky. Which is exactly what Katya does.

* * * *

About Marva:

Marva Dasef lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and a fat white cat. Retired from thirty-five years in the software industry, she has now turned her energies to writing fiction and finds it a much more satisfying occupation. Marva has published more than forty stories in a number of on-line and print magazines, with several included in Best of anthologies. She has several previously published books. Her latest pride and joy is the Witches of Galdorheim Series from her super duper publisher, MuseItUp.

Where to find her:

MuseItUp Author Page: http://tinyurl.com/MIU-MarvaDasef
Blog: http://mgddasef.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/MarvaDasef
Twitter Handle: @Gurina
Book Trailers: http://www.youtube.com/user/MarvaDasef/videos

This last week the muse seems to be in hiding, so I’ve devoted more time to unpacking.  The best part of unpacking is working on the Sylvanians.  Since I’ve bought a lot of families since I last set up Sylvania, I realized right away I’d need more furniture.  However, this dictator-for-life of Sylvania has a rather limited amount of spending money at the moment.  Furniture costs per a room as much as a family if you get the actual Sylvanian stuff… and it’s more fun and interesting to buy new families…

Thus we have an over-population problem.  This left me wondering… is furniture a basic right?  I might have a protest on my hands if I don’t do something soon. So, after seeing some of the punch-out furniture for sale on Amazon for a reasonable amount, I thought I might try it.  One of the reviews suggested it was half the price at Michaels, so I waited until we went to Portland, and sure enough, for $5 at Michaels I could buy a kit that lets me make 30 pieces of wooden furniture.  It’s government issue furniture!

It’s a bit small for most of the figures, especially the chairs, but they fit the baby animals, and babies need chairs too, right?  They’re easy to punch out and put together at least, and I plan to paint them before they go in use.

Considering I need somewhere besides Sylvanian Heights to set them up, I took a deep breath and started unpacking the boxes.  What a difference!  Some of Sylvania will definitely be living in style with these couches and beds.  However, the amount of families I stated finding in comparison to the number of houses in the boxes… well, let’s just say the furniture is going to be the least of my problems, whether its an inalienably right or not.

I have as far as housing two schools (Sylvanian 1990s and Maple Town 1980s, a store, five houses and the four Sylvanian Heights apartments.  So, that’s nine places to actually live and… how many families?

I’ve been skittish having a census because I’ve been afraid to find out how many figures are lost!  But I did anyway… and it turns out only four figures are lost out of a population of 224.  I’m not sure if it’s coincidence two of the missing dibbuns (yes, all missing animals are babies) are Spike and Posy, two of the hedgehog quadruplets of Mossflower fame…

Still, population 224, ack!  And that’s divided into about… 35 to 40 family groups depending on who lives with relatives… um, yeah.  Can we say massive house shortage, even if I get out the old beat up My Little Pony house I have yet to unpack and make the two house kits from my mother.

Speaking of which, they are as difficult to deal with as the furniture is easy.  Being older kits, they need to be sanded and glued.  Ack!  It took me all week to come across sandpaper, wood glue, and masking take as the instructions have requested.  I’m still a bit intimidated by the stacks of wood.  Sigh.

But if I don’t get cracking, I have a feeling they Sylvanians will set up a tent settlement on me and start picketing.

***

Also, I’m having an Easter Sale!  A School for Villains is 0.99 cents for a limited time on Amazon and B&N.

My fellow author friend Michele Shriver tagged me with this and when I looked at it, it looked like fun, so I thought I’d do it.  Michele writes women’s lit, and despite that not at all being my genre, I love her book.

Anyway, what I have to do is:

Go to p. 77 of current WIP
go to line 7
copy down next 7 lines/sentences & post them as they’re written
Tag 7 other authors
Let them know

Now my WIP is completely unedited past the first four chapters… so in all its drafty glory.  This falls in the middle of the MC saying goodbye to a young monk she’s friends  with just after she’s become a nun and is going to be sent to protest her people’s treatment to the emperor.

I still didn’t know what to say; I had told the Eternal One I was poor at public speaking. He hadn’t meant this, but if he was going to help me with the emperor, I needed him now too. And suddenly looking into Goba’s eyes, I saw reflected there the same fire that had burned the prayer flags and on Windrunner’s back. “Thank you for being such a good friend to me. May the eternal one bless you and lead you in everything you do.”

Goba reached out and pulled my head to his, so our foreheads touched. His warm breath tingled against my cheeks, and somehow it was far more intimate an action between us than any of Jaemian’s kisses.

Now, seven other terrific authors I know, mostly from my critique groups!   But all seven of these writers have either a great blog to read or a fun novel out.  Check them out if it suits you.

Laura Pauling

Marva Dasef

TL Gray

Katie W. Stewart

Penny Noyce

Marti Norton

Nayuleska

Closing in on my second week in Hood River, I’ve been watching for mountains.  The first week, one morning when driving Ben to work, there across the Columbia was suddenly a mountain I had no idea was there before.  Sure, I’ve been told there’s views of mountains, but that’s not the same as suddenly between the lower mountain sides of the gorge, there is suddenly a huge volcanic peak where there has only up until that point, be clouds.  And not a small one, but an enormous one.

I sort of did a double take and went, oh my, that’s large.  And then promptly didn’t see it again for another week.  We had wind, snow, but even on sunny days, heavy clouds surrounding the gorge.

Having seen the pictures online of Hood River, I knew the mountain, Mount Hood, had to be around here somewhere… where I wasn’t sure, because the other directions were even cloudier than the gorge.  Days went by, some with a glimpse of the other mountain (Mt. Adams? Or is that Mt. Baker? Never can keep them straight), but still no sign of the town’s namesake.  Some days I wondered if it was a myth and the pictures online photoshopped.

Today started with heavy mists (Ben sings the new Misty Mountain song from the Hobbit every day when driving to work when they come into view) so I didn’t think today would be the day, but suddenly I came around the bend in front of my house, and there it was.  A massive mountain, brilliant in the light of dawn.  Rather shockingly beautiful.

Determined to capture the moment, I went for my camera when I got back from taking Ben to work, but already the insidious clouds of winter have started in.  Now the mountain is gone again.  But I’m evilly pleased to have at least finally found it, and have a good view of it within half a block of my house.  The trees in the park get in the way as far as my actual view from my window goes.

So, last week blogging (and nothing else) happened due to moving.  Now I’m still living in a sea of boxes, but at least I have a couch and internet, and that’s what counts, right?

In the middle of doing boring things like trying to find the potato peeler or the tray that holds the silverware, I’ve decided to take a few peaceful moments to start unpacking the sylvanians. I  haven’t seen most of them in something like ten years, so it’s almost like getting brand new things.  And having a second bedroom I now have a place to do it.

Now, I should mention, that I have a slightly cynical streak when it comes to Sylvania, and always have.  For example, due to lack of money, some of the families are only partial families… with relatives dead or divorced… and sometimes orphan children that get adopted into unmatching families… but then sometimes when I get the right family for the child, the parent who had the child had to give it up to its proper parents.  Such are the hazards of adoption (I remember the baby Jessica fiasco on the news was happening around this time as a major influence).  And don’t get me started on the not-really-sylvanians-but-off-brand-animal getto, where they get the smaller houses and not as nice furniture.

I remember trying to explain this to some adult who was horrified, and said something to the effect of, in a play world, shouldn’t everything be ideal and perfect?  Why recreate the misery of real life?

Bah!  That’s no fun.

So, as Sylvania forms again… we start off with only the school house, where most (but not all) the refugees were packed.  It was a small and light box, so I was able to grab it (and am still missing most of the other boxes of stuff since they were up in my parent’s attic and didn’t make the moving truck).  Ever since all of Sylvania was destroyed in some epic disaster, everyone has been crowded together, unsure who else had survived, so now they get to come out and see who else has made it.

Many families are incomplete.  Everyone’s worried but the final verdict isn’t in either, so maybe more people have survived.  There’s a few new figures, so they at least can have some happy reunions with their long lost family members.

Now, the only proper house to make it in the initial move, besides the school building, is a shelf my uncle made of cheap apartment housing.  The four shelf levels are divided into two rooms each, with a doorway.  The decorative panel on the shelf is cracked from its years as a bookshelf and moving around, but has survived in decent condition.  Considering I live now on the Hood River “heights,” I decided to rename the whole apartment Sylvanian Heights.

These are very simple accommodations, at the height of Sylvania when I was young, poorer families resided there, but right now are at a premium, as they are the only building available.  So, four families won an apartment by semi-random selection.  I picked two newer families, two older families, and they had to be ones I knew I had all the members to someplace.

The Deer family and the Sugar Bear family won from the new ones, and the Fox and Beagle family from the older ones (1990′s Calico Critters).  Most of them have no furnature, as I only found a few meager pieces, but everyone’s excited to have won the housing lottery.

Everyone else has to camp out by the school house at least until next weekend, at which point hopefully I can talk my husband into believing me the most important items to be brought next are the rest of Sylvania.  The trouble is, the one real doll house, the original one that belongs to my very first family (the Raccoon from the 1980s) is huge.  Its beautiful, but it might not fit this first trip with so many other things still to bring.  Whenever it makes it though, it still belongs to the Raccoon.

The 1% of Sylvania may have to wait a little longer on the refugee list.  I guess money can’t buy you everything right away in this world… a little unrealistic. I have to have a little fantasy somewhere in here, right?

As my husband’s job search started seriously encroaching on my life this week, I ended up doing a lot of not-exactly-writing activities.  It’s more a stress issue than a time issue, which means in my off times I need something physical and somewhat relaxing to do, as in a craft, rather than writing.

Never one for doing the same thing twice, I decided to take a break from the Sylvanian wardrobe and instead tackle character building.  And by literal I mean out of sculpy.

I’ve had the idea for a long time, inspired by my roll-playing (yes, I’m a geek) with some of my characters with a friend.  My character and hers in an overly geekish geekiness have decided what they like to do best is meditate together.  Hers is a Buddhist nun and mine is a troll priest, so I suppose there is some basis for the craziness (just slightly).  Anyway, I’ve always been a fan of little praying monk statues, both Eastern and Western, so I thought I’d try my hand at making the two of them, Buddha style, but with a twist.

I wanted to make them able to hold hands.  Logistically, you can hold hands up and down or side to side, and that meant their hands might look a little funny when separate so after a lot of consideration I decided to give each of them one hand up and one hand down, so they’d fit together but not look too crazy on their own.  Plus, it sort of puts them on equal footing.

I’m a bit out of practice so that the sculpting was a bit tricky, especially the faces.  I was a bit discouraged first that Nyima looks like a boy (until I noticed all pictures of Buddhist nuns look rather boy-like for us usually reading “girl” by the hair) and even more discouraged at Kathul’s fur (gah! stupid fur!).  He ended up a bit too tall for his ears and I still feel like his face isn’t quite right (this is the drawing version of him) but close enough for a first attempt.

These figures are solid, but I think I’ll put tin-foil in them next time, I had a little crack in the sides from cooking them, but the paint covered it up since it was pretty small.  At this point, I feel pretty pleased with them, although I have new admiration for all the factory workers in China who paint toys.  My goodness painting the details was tricky.

I also tried to start my Newberry practice program I talked about last week.  I discovered, however, that Newberry books from the 1920s are hard to come by.  The library had neither “The History of Mankind” nor any of the 1922 Newberry honor books.  There were hardly any of the rest of the books from the 1920s forcing me to give up my idea of going in order.  I haven’t yet decided I want to own all the Newberry books, but suspect if I’m going to read them all I’m probably going to have to buy them all to find them.

So, banishing the plans of a chronological approach I just took home a stack of a bunch of the ones I haven’t yet read.  Reading them is easy (on the third one) but how to practice with them? A much more difficult question.  I thought about trying to rewrite some of them or parts of them like Benjamin Franklin, however, fiction is very different from essay writing.  Styles very so much and I feel like while not stunning, my style is at least solid.  The styles of the Newberry books range so drastically, it makes me think it might scatter my brain a bit to try to copy them all, not to mention it doesn’t begin to touch on some of the things I care the most about in good fiction. Character development, plot, theme, tension, or symbolism.  Fiction is complicated.

This time, however, the library was actually helpful, in the for of Donald Maas’s “Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook.”  This thing just oozes practice. I grabbed it to help structure one of my rough drafts but got ancy after two exercises.  Hello, sounds like piano practice type annoying-ness to me (never could sit still for those 30 min I was supposed to practice).  And I can’t say I’m raring to work that hard, which means its perfect.  If I do the exercises with each Newberry book I will figure out why these books won, vs other similar books.

And it will be that much easier to put my own book through the workbook and see how it measures up.  Maas has done a lot of research for me on what makes a terrific book, the Newberry books are sure to have all his elements, and so while it sounds like way too much work, I’m also excited to have a plan.  To make myself do it, I’m going to aim for 30 min a day working through it.

That will be extra hard though, because my husband has just landed a terrific job in Hood River (He graduated in December with a degree in Electrical Engineering.)  So we’re moving!  Ack!  It’s exciting and a bit terrifying of a prospect, especially for having done so much of it lately between school and his internships.  I get to go apartment hunting most of this week, then moving as soon as possible.  Still, I can’t think of a more gorgeous place for a writer to live. Mountains, waterfalls, the Columbia, and all the massive amount of weather of various types that moves through it. I hope to spend a lot of time hiking around between writing (that whole sitting kills you thing) and can’t wait to get all settled in.

Also, I’ve joined “Read an E-book Week” promotional sale on Smashwords.  You can pick up “A School for Villains” at 50% off through March 10th.