Pitching into the new year

In January of this coming year I'll be entering the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest with my YA novel, Gray Zone. I've held off getting it published just so I could enter it. I'm nothing if not brave!

There are several things I need to do to enter, one of which is write a 300 word pitch. I just finished rewriting the pitch for the fourth time, so I thought I'd end 2011 on positive note by taking a deep breath and sharing it. (Sharing is always good, right?) I hope you like it!

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It has been said that the Internet changed the world. Autumn didn’t know about the rest of the world, but it certainly changed her part of it.

A cyber-prank had gone viral and now Autumn must transfer schools.  Not exactly what she wanted to do as a sophomore. But then, what choice did she have when all her personal information was posted all over the Web? The police said her only chance to avoid stalkers was to move schools and start over.

Luckily, Autumn realized that she had been given an opportunity to reinvent herself, to become the outgoing, popular, not-at-all-shy girl she’d always wanted to be. Something that was impossible while surrounded by lifelong friends who thought they knew her better than she knew herself.

But even the best plans go awry. As soon as Autumn arrived at her new school she ran into Maurice—a bully of monumental proportions—who stepped on toes, beat up kids, and generally made life miserable for everyone. And then Sophie Rose, Autumn’s best friend, transferred to the school but kept her distance. It made Autumn wonder if Sophie Rose felt Autumn was no longer good enough to be her friend.

To be honest, Autumn was her own biggest obstacle. She failed miserably at changing the old habits that had given her that shy-girl reputation in the first place. Not only could she not move from reserved to rambunctious, she couldn’t even get to normal.

Such were Autumn’s problems, until the day Sophie Rose committed suicide. From that point on all Autumn wanted was to know was why. Then, after reading Sophie Rose’s diary, the question changed from why, to who.

Gray Zone is a 50,000 word young adult novel about bullying—both physical and cyber—friendship, and coming of age.

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Wish me luck! But more importantly-- 

HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!

Merry Christmas!

When Christmas time draws near
We sometimes see a tear
In the corner of our snowman’s little eye.

But please don’t be concerned
It’s just he never learned
That Christmas cards are better off kept dry.


MERRY CHRISTMAS!

It's alive!

Well, almost.

I present to you, book #5.

Monkeys on an Island will be available soon. Very soon! (It has a publication date of February 1, 2012, but books typically are available a little before their pub date.)

In case you haven't guessed already, it is a picture book.

Look for it. I bet I'll spot it on Amazon before you do.

You can't delegate your life

I awoke this morning with the oddest words echoing through my head. They were playing, over and over, as if their importance was so intense that my mind was determined to etch them into the walls of my brain.

"You can't delegate your life."

In my sleepy state I felt they made perfect sense. Of course you couldn't delegate your life! How silly to even think you could. To delegate is to choose someone to act for you, and how can you choose someone to live your life? Impossible.

And then I began to awake. Each step toward consciousness brought me closer to the realization that the statement was not quite as simple as I had first thought. When an epiphany finally slapped me fully awake I knew what the statement meant.

There are times I do delegate my life. With every television show I watch, every book I read, every video game I play, I delegate my life to their creators. Because you see, while I am watching, reading, and playing, I am not actively living. I am passive. I am in a life that is not my own, a life someone else created.

Now, before you get all huffy and say reading is good for you and an occasional game or TV show never hurt anyone, let me say I agree. Entertainment, in small doses, is great! It is necessary. It serves a very important purpose in our lives to help us de-stress and relax.

But only in small doses. As soon as the pursuit of entertainment makes us forget to actually live, we've delegated away our lives.

I've seen it happen time and time again. I don't know what causes some people to get caught up in passivity. Maybe they are tired, or bored, or lazy, or even afraid of life.

All I know is that now that I've gotten the message, I have to live it.

You can't delegate your life.

Living is doing.

Imagine that!

If I didn't know the imagination was powerful before, I sure do now!

I am taking a class about research, something I am comfortable with and enjoy very much. The subject I was given to research was pandemic viruses.

Everything was fine until I came across a plethora of articles about the 1918 influenza pandemic that killed somewhere between 50 million and 100 million people. For whatever reason, that particular pandemic made my imagination kick into overdrive. I felt suddenly sick. With the flu, no less.

The symptoms hit me like a ton of bricks. Stuffed up nose, upset stomach, feverish, and that all over feeling of blah. The more I researched, the worse I felt. By the time I had a sufficient amount of research I felt my best bet was to call it a day (even if it was only 9:30 am) and go to bed. So I wrote out my findings, posted my assignment, and trudged downstairs to get a pre-nap dose of vitamin C.

I never took the vitamin C. Within two minutes of posting my research, all my symptoms were gone. Not a sign of fever, not a sniffle, nada.

Yes, the imagination is an amazing thing.

Note to self: Never, never, never write a horror story or a thriller. Never!

Thanksgiving on a plane

Running across the airport is always a trying experience, especially when the mischievous pixies of the reservation system have been busy moving whichever gate I needed to the far corners of the airport.

I arrived just as the last passenger was having his boarding pass scanned by the attendant. I was out of breath, but happy. I had made it! The plane had not left without me!

I boarded the crowded plane, and as I arrived at my seat my heart dropped to my feet.

Eek! I had a middle seat! How could life treat me this cruelly?  I was now destined to spend the next few hours squished between two perfect strangers, a hostage to the "fasten seat belt" sign that was sure to stay lit the entire time.

With a deep breath I straightened my shoulders and decided to grin and bear it. After all, it was Thanksgiving day. Instead of focusing on the bad seating arrangement, I would spend my hours in flight enumerating the many things I am thankful for.

Or so I thought.

I never asked the guy in the aisle seat next to me his name. It would not have mattered anyway, because I will always think of him as Elbows Malone, the orneriest elbow thrower the West has ever known.

He seemed to believe that both armrests were his personal property, and after the third time he slammed his sharp elbow down on my arm, which I had rested on the very edge of the armrest for a moment, I wondered if he might be right.

I decided to take the high road and ignore his ill manners.

The real test of my fortitude came about the fourth time his elbows jabbed me in the ribs. It was a particularly painful jab, and my natural instinct was to use my much sharper elbows in retaliation. I was able to restrain myself by repeating, over and over again, my long list of thanks.

We finally landed, and I watched as Elbows Malone used his built-in swords to force his way off the plane ahead of his turn.

As I exited I added two more "I am thankfuls" to my list.

I am thankful that Elbows Malone is not a friend or family member, and I am thankful I will never have to sit next to him on a plane again.

But if the world plays a trick on me and I find myself again trapped beside him and his out of control appendages, he had better hope I have once again decided to fly on Thanksgiving Day!

Or better yet, maybe the next time I fly I will go prepared, with a big roll of duct tape.