Winter Soups: Valarie Lawson and Nana's Potato Soup

This winter has been exceptionally...wintery.  Our snow days have been extensive, but who minds those when you have good soup and good friends?  Thanks for joining me again for another Tasty Tuesday and a virtual potluck. I'm so glad you did because Valerie Lawson is here!

Aside from her mass of curly hair, the first thing I noticed about Valerie was her t-shirt. Like her, it was smart, artsy, and funny. To this day, when I see her at an SCBWI event, I look to see what she's wearing because I know she'll make me smile. 

And she brought potato soup for Saint Patrick's Day week. What luck! I'm definitely smiling now.

Valerie Lawson...she's wearing a funny t-shirt beneath that smile, y'all.

I’m so thrilled that Brandi invited me to participate in this virtual potluck. As many of you know who follow my blog, I am no cook. I was raised by my father, the microwave king, who still thinks cut-up hot dogs in macaroni and cheese is a fancy meal. He actually served this meal to my daughter recently, much to her horror. I think we’ve spoiled her. Or rather, my husband has. He is the cook in the family. He has a natural intuitiveness in the kitchen, lucky for us. Otherwise I’m afraid we’d live off fast food and cold cereal. My husband can look at the contents of our pantry and see what might work together as a meal. He does this weird thing called experimenting with food - and it almost always turns out fantastic. If I tried this, I’d end up with a fried crispy mess and a fire extinguisher.

My husband learned much of his instinctual cooking techniques from standing at his mother’s elbow while she cooked from scratch all through his childhood. She was also a natural cook who never wrote down a recipe, never used a measuring spoon. Thankfully, my husband had the foresight to write down a few of her favorite dishes before she died last year. I’m happy to share it with you, today.

This soup is simple and yet comforting on a cold, winter night. It is a meal all by itself or with some warm, crusty bread. I hope you enjoy it.

Nana’s Potato Soup

Ingredients:

4 peeled and cubed Potatoes

½ cup chopped Celery

¼ cup chopped Onion

1 Tbsp Butter

1 ½  cups Milk

¼ tsp Greek Seasoning

Salt and Pepper to taste

Suggested garnish:

Crumbled Bacon

Shredded Cheddar Cheese

Sour Cream

Chopped Green Onions

Instructions:

Cover the potatoes with an inch of water in a large saucepan and bring to a boil for ten minutes.

While the potatoes are boiling, sauté the celery and onions in butter over a medium-high heat until translucent, about four to six minutes.

Pour off half the water from the potatoes, leaving the remainder of the water in the pan. Add the milk to the pan, along with the vegetables and seasonings. Turn the heat down to medium. Let flavors come together and allow the soup to simmer for about twenty minutes. Then your soup is ready.

Garnish as you please.

Nana's Potato Soup

Grab some soup and spend more time with Valerie over at her blog Barbies on Fire. For me, the title of her blog was enough to tempt me to check it out, but once I got there I loved what she did with the place. She publicly challenges herself and shares her progress with the world while making it completely fun and mixing in great book reviews, author interviews, and more. 

Have fun with Valerie. I'm so glad I could introduce you!

How do you ship your art?

One of my goals for 2014 is to "ship my art." My art is writing, which means I'm going to enter contests and submit my novel to agents.

Do you have a story to tell?

Listen to Your Mother provides the opportunity for people across the country to take the stage--actual and virtual--and tell a story about motherhood. Last year I was part of Oklahoma City's debut performance. You don't have to be a mother or a woman to submit. You also don't have to go solo. Submit here. (Check back here next Friday for more on what I've done about the experience.)

Check out Oklahoma Writers Federation's contest to enter over twenty different categories for $20. Each entry gets a critique. Deadline is February 1. They also have a conference that offers useful information to newbies and professionals.

Speaking of conferences and the opportunity to meet with agents, Oklahoma has an outstanding  chapter of Society of Children Book Writers and Illustrators led by Anna Myers. We're having a conference in Oklahoma City on March 29.

If you're not a writer, what is your art? What passionate thing do you do to create change in the world? How do you ship your art?

Fear Landscapes

***Caution: Minor Spoiler for Divergent series***

Allegiant, the third book in the series, arrived Tuesday. They're incredible.  Movie arrives in March.

One of the things I like about the Divergent series by Veronica Roth is the way the Dauntless faction deals with fear.

"Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it." --Veronica Roth, Divergent

Their main methodology of coping with what gives them the heebie jeebies?  Fear landscapes. Just inject a special serum  in your neck and it triggers your terrors so that you can learn how to control or be free from them.  Before going into the final stage of initiation, the Dauntless are told that the average number of fears is 10-15.

Wondering how many you have?

Recently, I went to bed, fell asleep, and traveled through my fear landscape. As in the book, I knew it wasn't real.  I knew I just had to get to the other side somehow.  My fears hit me one after the other.

First, total darkness. Then my vision pans out until I see movement beneath the black. Spiders. Thousands. The shot moves higher until the shape of the container is clear. It's a coffin. The spiders move and reveal my face.  They crawl all over me, but I can't move my arms or legs to knock them off. If I scream, the spiders will crawl in my mouth. That's what has happened in this dream the many times I've had it since childhood.  I don't scream.  I focus on it not being real. I focus on it being about claustrophobia and being trapped with the spiders. I remember I no longer fear spiders because Garrett refused to remove a gigantic spider from the front porch last October.  (I certainly wasn't going to do it!) He said I needed to get over my fear of spiders, so I watched that arachnid grow and grow and scare visitors until I wasn't frightened anymore.  I was even a little sad to see her go.  As I recall this, my fear in the dream disappears, and the spiders on me are her babies...a la Charlotte's Web. They're visiting me. Awww.

So I go to the next nightmare.

Long before Harry Potter's dementors or Twilight's Volturi, their lovechild tormented my nights.  I haven't seen one in a long time, but a brood of them are resurrected.  Almost 18 years ago, I realized I could control my nightmares. It is this one that taught me that. I recall the feeling of power when I stopped running and turned to face the demon. It smiled at me and ran away. Freedom made me fly. I take a deep breath, turn to face the demons, and remember how to fly.

So I go to the next nightmare. 

And the next. 

And the next.

I've not conquered this one before. I tense up as I go deeper into the fear landscape.

 

My skin pulses with urgency. Lost in the woods, I must rescue someone. I see a wood-paneled house.   If the person I seek is here, I have no clue how to find safety. But I know we must flee. I creep closer and peek through a dirty window. A conveyor belt carries life-sized dolls of identical size in identical boxes. Varying shades of rosy cheeks dot their faces.  Pretty dresses adorn their bodies. But after watching a while, I notice a clear pattern to the dolls.  They are reproductions. A madman stands by a sink full of what looks like giant Barbie appendages bathed in bloody water. Spare parts? Is he creating them according to his whims? When one blinks her thick eyelashes at me, I realize they aren't dolls. They are women, and I am staring at myself. I am there to rescue me.

In Divergent, the Dauntless face the fear or control their fear until the fear landscape goes away. Either way, the effort requires courage. I struggle with this fear landscape.  I ponder what it means.  I work on calming myself.

Oddly, this fear landscape fades and goes to my next...dream.

My most secret--and not-so-secret--aspirations appear before me, almost realized. And then I get in my own way.  Then my next dream materializes and I sabotage myself again. If the monster causing all these problems weren't me, then I'd really hate myself for keeping me from being happy. Um...what?

It is the most terrifying landscape so far.


I think it's time that changes, don't you? Dreaming is scary. Allowing oneself to take the risks to turn those dreams into reality is even scarier.  But I think it's time I try being dauntless.  How 'bout you?

Are you like the Divergent and can you control the nightmares in your fear landscape? What's in your landscape?  Do you have nightmare re-runs?  How do you stand in the way of your own dreams? How do you plan to dare to dream?

 

Inklings Retreat 2013

I love my writing group and our annual writing retreat at Lake Tenkiller.  This summer was our tenth-ish year to hang out at the lake, eat lots of food, critique works in progress, and laugh. A lot.

photo courtesy of Lisa Marotta

This year Dee Dee Chumley introduced a word tournament.  It's kind of like March Madness, but with a bunch of logophiles instead of athletes  We (okay, mostly I) slung a lot of words around trying to intimidate other players and help Dee Dee with tough-talk dialogue for her next novel. Of course, one can only sound so intimidating when throwing around language like "confabulation" and "diaphanous." But it paid off.  I won with the word "petulant."  (Ironic since I was talking trash, don't you think?) We might have trouble if you tell me you would have voted for Lisa Marotta's word that also made the finals:"serendipity.'

Sometimes we make it to the water to float around and commune with the dragonflies.  This year, a few of us ventured forth and practiced water yoga with Heather Ezell of Hang Zen.  It was awesome. Then we went back to the deck and enjoyed some of my daddy's special sangria--that Kelly helped doctor with OJ--while talking about all things bloggy. I'm already looking forward to our fall retreat!

Pictured below are Martha Bryant, Dee Dee Chumley, Kelly Bristow, Heather Ezell of Hang Zen, Lisa Marotta, and Brandi Barnett.

photo courtesy of Kevin Ezell of Hang Zen yoga

  
 Read more about my ideas about yoga over on Oklahoma Women Bloggers.

The Getaway

On Mother's Day, I received flowers and an envelope. I nervously slid my finger under the flap because I expected to see flight and hotel information for the SCBWI LA conference.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not oblivious to the generosity! Garrett had pressured me to attend since I told him it was supposed to be a great conference--even better than the NY one I attended a few years ago.

When I told him I needed to finish some details on my book before it was ready to pitch, he insisted...until I compared  it to him going to the Tour de France and being almost ready to compete.

After that, I suspected he might buy me a bike.

Instead, the envelope held confirmation information for two nights at a hotel. 

Last weekend, I lost myself in the final polishing touches of my book. Meals were delivered to my door.  Garrett had even booked a massage.

Room keys for my computer and me.

Best. Gift. Ever.

At 8:52 PM on Saturday night, I celebrated the completion of Society of Legions with Hershey's kisses and a small bottle of wine.

What's your idea of a self-indulgent fantasy weekend getaway just for you?

OWFI's Agent Panel's Quotable Quotes

The first weekend of May is the annual writers' reunion/conference for Oklahoma Writers Federation.

My writing group's party room. Yes, we have wine with our name on it.

Here are a few helpful quotes from the agent panel:

On Query letters

"Be short, sweet, professional." --Jim McCarthy of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management

"Please include a phone number." --Paul S. Levine  of Paul S. Levine Literary Agency

"A 2000 word query letter is not going to excite anyone."--Paul Lucas of Janklowa & Nesbit

On Pitches

"The best pitch is the one that makes you want to read more of the book.  The worst one is the one that makes you wonder why they're writing a book." --Jim McCarthy

"Best pitches are the ones that make me want to sign that person.  The worst are when I think I can't wait to talk about this at work on Monday."--Jim McCarthy

On Self Publishing

"I'm very open to self-published authors.  I'm more enticed if you've sold a butt load of copies."--Jim McCarthy

On Social Media

"Own it if you're going to do it.  Delete it if you're not." --Paul Lucas

Other tidbits

"Looking for projects I think are fun."--Paul Lucas

"New Adult is very happening." --Sara D'Emic of Talcott Notch Literary Services

"Don't be an asshole.  It's not worth it." --Jim McCarthy

Happy writing, ya'll!

Does anyone else have a quotable quote from a writing conference? Please post in the comments.

Listen to Your Mother Show: These are my people

We send our stories into a theater packed with 400 bodies. That's 800 ears.  We send our stories into a social media project that will spread our stories to more bodies, more ears.

We can't take them back.

The house lights go up, but there is a strange combination of stage lights still shining that leave much of the crowd in the dark--at least from my view point. Applause fades to giddy conversations as cast members reunite with their people.

I stand alone onstage, peering into the gloomy abyss.

Where are my people?

A silhouette waves, and I think it's one of my tribe.  The cast member in front of me waves back.

Where are my people?  They were coming... right?

Loneliness sweeps over me as the waves of emotions the show tossed about go out to sea and come back for me--pulling me into a place that churns like a sea monster.

Then I take a deep breath.  I'm being silly. A saying drifts across my psyche: "If your ship doesn't come in, go out to meet it."

Right. Even if my people aren't here, I have a whole new sisterhood in the inaugural cast of Oklahoma City's Listen to Your Mother show. And these amazing women and man deserve to be congratulated.

I step off the stage and into this new world where everyone knows my story.

My eyes adjust to the light.  I see them.  I hear others call my name. 

I am not alone.  I never was. 

That's the thing with sisterhoods.

Some you grow up with.

childhood friends Tina and Ange--and our mommas--at the show

Some you help create.

my Inklings at Christmas--didn't get a pic after show!

Some you find through other people.

Tina, moi, Shannon, Kellie, Ange

Ashley and Jennifer at Kentucky Derby party. (They didn't wear the hats to the show.)

And some you share your soul onstage with.

2013 cast of Oklahoma City's Listen to Your Mother show (photo by Macy Fitzgerald)

Just when I feel lost at sea, my family--the ones I'm related to and the ones I've adopted--buoy me.

my hubby and kids at after-party

my mother-in-law, mom, and dad at after-party

They always do.

Even if I can't see them doing it.

Our cast was warned about the "me too" moments when strangers approach post-show and connect to your story.  I really didn't experience that.  However, I did catch people watching me, and when I looked their ways, they avoided me.  Now I know why. Since that day, I've heard from two people who told me my story helped women who were still so raw that they couldn't tell me personally.

I didn't share my secrets in vain. My story is a letter in a bottle tossed into the sea meant to be found by someone I may never meet.

That's why I did Listen to Your Mother.

Because, sometimes, it's not about me having a buoy. It's about me being the buoy.

That Show I'm Going to Be In

The outpouring of support from friends and family for making Oklahoma City's inaugural Listen to Your Mother Show has been tremendous.

Still, a lot of people have never heard of it.

Ann Imig, the head momma herself talks about it here:


It's an easy concept that creates a beautiful and authentic experience.

As I sat in a hair salon with foil in my hair and showed YouTube videos of past performances from my iPad, I realized that that was the true essence of the show. Women hanging out and sharing stories.

Two of our directors were in the Northwest Arkansas show last year.

Proceed with caution: After you watch the videos, you may have the compulsion to share them with others.

Heather Davis talks about unmentionables hair accessories.


Misti Prior talks about pretending to be Mother Teresa.


Today, the website introduced moi. 

Here's a teaser that shows the rest of our cast.  Hint: I'm the toothless one.


10% of proceeds benefits Infant Crisis Services in OKC. We're also accepting diaper donations at the door. Tickets are still available. You can order yours here.

Bring some Huggies and someone to hug. It's going to be that kind of afternoon.

Cheer for Your Team

I'm not very good at the preschool athletic mentality. 
1.  Every kid is not the Most Valuable Player.
2.  Each game should have a winner and a loser.

That's life. 

Don't get me wrong. Winning isn't everything, but losing doesn't mean hanging up your sneakers, either.  When you fall, brush yourself off, quit your crying, and get back in the game. It's important to always do your personal best because your only real competition is yourself.

I was a cheerleader--the kind that believed more in the job than the uniform.  I disdain the "spirit leaders" who leave when rain or sleet falls from the sky. If the team can still play, then they can still cheer.

12th grade: front and center in a parka in the pouring rain

After a few adult beverages, I'm willing to dance my high school's fight song.

Go Bulldogs!

 

Last month,  I put my dormant cheer skills to use and cheered myself on through my own special version of March Madness.

Here are the rules: If a writing opportunity presented itself, I must enter the competition.

Even if I doubted my abilities--especially so--I must take action. With failure comes wisdom. With wisdom comes success.

Want to know how the brackets turned out?

I submitted my essays to two Listen to Your Mother shows.  Instead of submitting to one show, I embraced March Madness and submitted to two.

Two! Two! We want two!

And, well, you know how that turned out. Read about it here and here.

Gooooo team!

Then, I tried Brenda Drake's agent contest.  My cheerleader was still asleep when I dragged myself out of bed to submit early in the morning.  Right before I pushed send on my carefully written entry of my novel's first 250 words and 35-word pitch, I doubted myself.  I changed the pitch.

I did not make the next round.

That's all right. That's okay. We're gonna win another day!

Then another opportunity presented itself. Mini Vaughn, one of the slush zombies for the contest, volunteered to critique the pitches on her blog Dirty Silly Things.  I thought, "Oh my. I can't put myself out there and face rejection again. It's so public. She even says something about spanking us and making it hurt."  *Blushes* 

My cheerleader gave me a high-kick in the butt.  

Be aggressive! B-E Aggressive! B-E- A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E! Be aggressive! B-E aggressive!

Because she was an obnoxiously perky, insistent little inner cheerleader, I not only sent the rejected logline, but I also submitted the one I'd planned to send. If I was going to get a smackdown, I might as well really feel the pain, right?

The critique wasn't painful at all. She thought the original pitch was "fantastic." Lesson learned.  My biggest opponent is self-doubt. 

Defense! (clap, clap) Defense! (clap, clap)

Over the month, I had a couple of contest triumphs and forfeited one opportunity. The point is that I put myself in the game.

I'm gearing up for submitting my freshly revised novel to agents. I've listened to agents who seemed excited about the story but rejected it. I've rewritten the novel and improved my game. 

First (clap) and ten! Go! Fight! Win!

Why compete? Because someone has to win.  Why can't it be me?  Or you?

  Dribble it! Pass it! (clap) We want a basket!

Have you stepped outside your comfort zone lately? What would you like to achieve?  

Go for it!

Listen to your personal cheerleader and take the challenge. Let me know what it is.

I'm already waggling my spirit fingers for you.

Listen to Your Mother

"Do you need me to go with you?" Mama asked.

Um. No. My facial expression was likely reminiscent of my teenage years.

"Don't look at me like that.  Your dad is worried. Everyone knows you get lost."

True. But I'm not incompetent. I'm a reasonably intelligent, somewhat independent wife and mother-of-two.

And I'd made a call back for Listen to Your Mother! Oh, yeah.

I could drive to a simple audition by myself.  Probably.

I'd leave early.

If I drove alone to the audition for Listen to Your Mother--Northwest Arkansas, I'd get about three hours BY MYSELF. My fantasy life took hold and I dreamed: No crying. No food fights. No one needing me at all.  I'd go to my son's soccer game, drive the windy, crooked road through the foothills of the Ozarks,  audition for the NW Arkansas show Listen to Your Mother, and return in time to take the kids to a Hot Wheels party.

Yep. This mama was going places.

Giddiness prevailed until I received another email. It was a callback for the inaugural show of Listen to Your Mother--Oklahoma City. My home state.  Good news. But my heart fell when I read one little line in the email.  I would not be able to audition if I made the NW Arkansas show.

And that made me anxious.

I liked my essay for NW Arkansas.  But the piece for Oklahoma City... was my story.  I didn't realize how important it was to me until that email told me I might not get the opportunity to share it.

When I saw the amazing cast list for Arkansas, relief flooded me. My name wasn't on it.

I got to tell my story!  It might be only once in front of the captive audience of directors and producer, but I. Would. Share. My. Story.

And that made me nervous. Because I wanted to tell everyone.

So, when my mother said, "Do you need me to go with you?" I said, "No."

I didn't need her to go. But it might be nice. "But if you want to spend the day together, I'd love to have you along."

"I'll drive," she said, "so you can practice."

Half an hour into our drive, I read the piece.  Only a few lines in, her hand flew off the steering wheel to get my attention. "Stop."

She offered advice. Good advice. Before the audition, I read the piece for her three or four times. She commented and critiqued. The rhythm was familiar--reminding us both of when I was in high school and she'd help me run lines for a show or a competition.

When I walked inside the building for my audition, I didn't feel like a child who'd been driven by her mother.  I felt like a woman with a story to tell.

And, boy, I was a wreck.  All heart palpitations and nervous chatter. The directors and producers were kind women, willing me to do my best.  They wanted to hear my story as much as I wanted to tell it.

Afterward, my mom and I ate, shopped, and headed home. We laughed and talked without life interrupting us until my phone rang.  I didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

It was Heather. One of the directors. She claimed she wanted me to get some sleep and informed me I made the show!

I babbled a response, my emotions busy tumbling over each other for attention. Happiness. Relief.  Excitement.

When I hung up the phone, I could tell by the look on my mom's face that she knew.

Sometimes you need to listen to your gut.

Sometimes it's best to listen to your mother.

Come see our show on May 5 at the Will Rogers Theater in Oklahoma City. Tickets are available here. Listen to Your Mother OKC benefits Infant Crisis Services.

Listen to Your Mother

Last year I heard a lot of buzz about a show called Listen to Your Mother.  Some of my favorite bloggers participated in "giving Mother's Day a microphone." I didn't attend, but I checked out performance after performance online.

I submitted this year. It sounded so cool that I submitted two different essays to two different cities.  I haven't heard about the Oklahoma City show yet, but...

Guess who has a callback to the NW Arkansas show on Saturday? 

That's right.

Me.

I'm so excited to make the first cut.  It seems like a great opportunity to grab your favorite ladies and enjoy a night out.

Check out the website for a show near you.

Or in stolen moments, check out past performances here. 

Hopefully, I'll be able to share my story, too.

Who keeps you up at night?

Oh, Jane.  You did it again.

I remember our first time.

Mr. Darcy and I stayed up all night and watched the sun rise together.  My husband woke up once, told me I was crazy, and went back to sleep.

Others are also guilty of my sleep deprivation, too.

But Jane...you get me almost every time.


It's not just your books. It's also the movie adaptations.

Most recently, I watched Emma, the miniseries with Johnny Lee Miller as Mr. Knightley.

Sigh.


Mr. Knightley and I did not watch the sun rise, but we did flip the calendar since I watched the entire miniseries after the kids and my hubby were in bed.


I could say I regret those nights Jane took from me.


But I don't.


What about you?  What authors/stories/movies/characters have you willingly skipped sleep for?

Writer's Wednesday: Downton Abbey Rewrite

Now that fans have had time to recover from the season finale of Downton Abbey Season 3, I thought I'd bring it up again.

Yeah, I'm a salt in the wound kind of gal.

According to my Facebook feed, people are upset about the story.

Some loved it.  Many did not. A few even mentioned they might stop watching.

One woman declared the ending was simply bad writing.   

So here's your chance. 

If you disliked the finale--or some other part of this season--write a synopsis of YOUR version in the comment section.

If you liked it, defend it.

KEEP CALM

AND

WRITE ON

 

The Next Big Thing: Lucky Charm

Have you heard about The Next Big Thing? It's a blog hop where authors post about their work and you get to be in-the-know for "the next big thing."

Welcome to my turn!

What is the working title of your book?
Lucky Charm

Where did the idea come from for the book?
It started with the idea that any institution left to man will become tainted by man. No matter how pure the ideals are that created it, people can make it dark and dirty. Different cultures and rituals fascinate me, so I wanted to take a society of hybrids and see if it was worth salvaging.

The cool factor of Oklahoma City is a well kept secret, so it seemed a good place to headquarter an ancient secret society.  Features like underground tunnels and the fact that Oklahoma is one of the few places in the world where rose rocks are found are all due to my society. *ahem* True story.;)

I wanted a girl to meet this world on her terms even when everyone else had other expectations.  Abi learns one thing stronger than magic is fate. The only thing stronger than fate is attitude. 

What genre does your book come under?
young adult fantasy

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

 Zachary Quintos is the evil Mr. Voth.

 

Taylor Swift isn't young enough or short enough to be Abi, but I like this image.

I've always envisioned Isla Fisher as Abi's mom.

Abi's Pals
Naya Rivera's sensuality is the right one for Jade.

.

The bubbly Lauren Alaina is the right vibe for the sugary-sweet, down-home Belle.

 

Abi's Love Interests

Jacob Artist would make a good Moses with just a few modifications.

Of course, so would Taylor Lautner.  

Chace Crawford is too old to be Zac and too young to be his dad, but he's the right type.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Most people would believe that being part leprechaun means you lead a charmed life, but when Abi Sparks discovers she's part of a secret, world-wide organization intent on breeding its youth to create magical hybrids, there's nothing lucky about it.

Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?
Giving final touches before querying agents.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Ha!  That's an interesting question since I wrote the book 3/4 of the way three different times. Depending on your math--2-5 years? I originally wanted to try my hand at adult characters, but I felt the call of young adult literature again. Everything that mattered happened to them in high school. It's motivational for me to know what their lives might be like ten years later if certain issues about their world aren't resolved. After querying agents, I think only one or two said, "No, thank you" without reading pages. The other four requested manuscripts. And each one decided it wasn't for him or her. Since then, I've revised A LOT and switched it from third-person, past tense to first-person, present. Next time an agent requests a full manuscript, I'm hoping he or she will say, "Where have you been all my life?!"

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Paranormalcy meets Matched.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?
When I wrote Glamour,  I wanted to kill the fairies, but felt like it wasn't the nice thing to do.

I yearned to write a book that is as true as I know how to be--regardless of whether or not it is nice. With a couple of characters, I had to turn off my filter and just let them go. It was such fun!

Speaking of fun... Thanks to Sonia Gensler for tagging me in this blog hop.

I hope you hop over and see what Dee Dee Chumley's next big thing is.

Next Friday, check out picture book author and "celestial wizard" Wayne Harris-Wyrick, as well as novelists Christine Denise Jarmola and Jennifer McMurrain.

Thanks for reading about Lucky Charm.

For the love of ... knicknacks

Grandma worried about me.

She had a china cabinet stacked with teetering towers of coffee mugs from places she'd visited.  My brother had a bulletin board filled with pins about politics, bands, or silly sayings.  My mom even had a display of thimbles from different states.

I collected diddlysquat.

Grandma decided I was to collect spoons.

It soon became clear to me that these spoons weren't used for cooking or eating or anything else.  They had no soul. They were made to sell.

So my well-intentioned Grandma went on her trips and brought me back spoons. One with a hula girl.  One with the Statue of Liberty. Spoons.

I preferred money. 

Only after I realized that it could be seen as a detriment did I discover I did collect something.  I had a little tin of coins people gave me from their travels.  A peso.  A Canadian penny.  A buffalo nickel. I wondered about all the people who had held them and what purchase had caused them to part ways.

My coins had soul.

But by the time I realized I did collect something, Grandma was too invested in the spoons.

Now, I don't collect coins.

Or spoons.

But I still collect stories.

Add Glamour to Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue

The kids and I watched Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue (Disney, 2010) the other night.  It's about a fairy (Tinkerbell) who gets captured by a little girl. The story is sweet.

There's a boy who leads her on a journey.

Tink's friends battle the rain to "rescue" an imprisoned pal.

So many aspects of the story seemed similar to a story I know very well. But there were differences.

For example, Tink teaches Lizzie how to fly.

Plus, the only real danger Tinkerbell encounters is Lizzie's father, a scientist who likes to pin things with wings to his wall. It's Disney, so everything turns out happy in the end.

If you know someone who liked this movie, but wants something a smidge darker, my novel Glamour (HAWK, 2008) is the perfect next step.

In my book, a teen captures fairies.  But she's not nice.

So the fairies aren't either.

Deer me

It isn't hunting season that has these deer down.

Nope. It's exhausted homeowners. And wind. And rain.

And, well, maybe embarrassment.

The buck has been unable to stay up since we found the two does mounted one morning.

Good Samaritans have tried to erect the deer on various occasions, but the wire beasts continue to be found moping on the ground.

The other day, a couple we'd just met informed us we are the "Dead Deer" house. Ho ho no!

I feel guilty for writing this post  about holiday decor back in 2008 BC (Before Children). I didn't realize the homeowners were probably too busy saying things like "Take that golf club out of your ear!" and "Get your finger out of your sister's nose!" to their own little elves to care two antlers about reindeer on the lawn.

Any holiday decor is a testimony to the holidays that someone cared enough to haul the electrical nightmares out of storage.

Next year, those deer are hibernating.

Mary Engelbreit's Nutcracker

I found it!

I've looked long and hard for a picture book of The Nutcracker that fulfilled the expectations of my childhood imaginings.

Over thirty years ago, my dance teacher and our moms escorted a bunch of little girls to see The Nutcracker ballet in Tulsa. I'd never seen anything so magical. The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy made a lasting impression.

My mother bought me a nutcracker ornament that day. The fur is sparse. The nose is gone. But I still love my nutcracker prince as much as any little girl.

Click here to see a few pages of Mary Engelbreit's beautifully illustrated version of the story. You won't be disappointed.

Writers Wednesday: Kid Lit Community Auction

In the wake of Hurricane Sandy, Kate Messner organized the KidLit community and created an online auction to benefit the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund.

Whether you are a children's literature fan, an aspiring author, or a published author, there's something available at this auction that might interest you.

Check it out.

Donate.

Do good.

R2D2? Optimus Prime? Robot Mania has struck.

Me:  What do you want to be when you grow up?
Max: A robot.

Usually his answer is trashman. A year ago, it was construction worker.

But life is fast-paced and ever-changing with the preschool set.  Just a few months ago, my uncle excitedly gave Max a Transformer saying he wished he'd received such a cool gift as a kid. 

He peeked inside, dropped the bag and said, "No, thank you." Max was so terrified, he wouldn't stay in the same room. 

Uncle Ed claimed he gave it to another little boy, but I suspect that robot is carefully tucked away so he can play with it when Aunt Mary Sue isn't watching.

No matter the history, Maximus Prime is geared up about robots now.

Any guesses on his Halloween costume?

For now, check out this cool book for your robot man.

Will your little robot love Boy and Bot?

Affirmative.