Covers in the Air--er, Water

The fabulous art team at Harper (*waves at Amy*) has at long last relinquished the final cover of my upcoming mermaid book, FORGIVE MY FINS. Are you ready for it? Here goes...

Wait a sec. First I think you need to read a bit about the story. I mean, you're not supposed to be judging books by their covers, are you? Even if we all do that, just a tiny bit, today I'm not giving you a choice. You're going to have to get through the jacket blurb before you see the cover. (And don't even think about skipping over! Naughty, naughty.)

Lily Sanderson has a secret, and it’s not that she has a huge crush on gorgeous swimming god Brody Bennett, who makes her heart beat flipper-fast. Unrequited love is hard enough when you’re a normal teenage girl, but when you’re half human, half mermaid like Lily, there’s no such thing as a simple crush.

Lily’s mermaid identity is a secret that can’t get out, since she’s not just any mermaid – she’s a Thalassinian princess. When Lily found out three years ago that her mother was actually a human, she finally realized why she didn’t feel quite at home in Thalassinia, and she’s been living on land and going to Seaview high school ever since, hoping to find where she truly belongs. Sure, land has its problems – like her obnoxious, biker boy neighbor Quince Fletcher – but it has that one major perk – Brody. The problem is, mermaids aren’t really the casual dating type – when they “bond,” it’s for life.

When Lily’s attempt to win Brody’s love leads to a tsunami-sized case of mistaken identity, she is in for a tidal wave of relationship drama, and she finds out, quick as a tailfin flick, that happily-ever-after never sails quite as smoothly as you planned.

Whew! Got that out of the way. Now without (much) futher ado, I present the gorgeous, beautiful, magical cover of FORGIVE MY FINS.

Thoughts?

Hugs,
TLC

Read My Five

As part of the official launch week of the Living My Five community, it's my turn to share my intro post in which I explain what my Five are. Click on over to find out what five things I want to change in the world.

Hugs,
TLC

The 80s: Sixteen Candles

After my first 80s educational post, I've been a little keyboard-shy. I mean, I post about Michael Jackson and then.... Well, you know.

But, my desire to share my historical (*gag*) knowledge with the younger generation has overcome my fears that I might be able to kill people with my blog. I now present to you one of the great classic 80s movies, Sixteen Candles.

The Story

Samantha Baker is having an awful day, on what should be one of the best of her life. Her Sweet Sixteen. It's starts when, amidst the chaos of her sister's next-day wedding, her entire family completely forgets that it's her birthday. Add to that a delirious crush on hottie senior Jake Ryan, a disastrous note-passing incident, an outrageous foreign exchange student, a house full of grandparents, a panty-hunting geek, a drunk ex-girlfriend, and a whole host of other hilarious problems, and it's easy to see why this movie is such a classic. Want more details? Here's the trailer:

Seriously, I think Jake Ryan is the model for pretty much every hero I write. (Even Hank Stuever, a staff writer for the Washington Post, though so. He wrote an arcticle called "Real Men Can't Hold a Match to Jake Ryan of 'Sixteen Candles'"!)

The Cast

John Hughes, the late great director and screenwriter of Sixteen Candles (and about a billion other movie classics), managed to assemble a completely awesome cast. Check this out.

Molly Ringwald (aka the 80s teen queen) as Sam Baker
Michael Schoeffling as hottie-with-a-heart Jake Ryan
Anthony Michael Hall (no longer a geek) as Ted the Geek
John Cusack as minor character Bryce
Joan Cusack as minor-minor character Geek Girl #1
Paul Dooley (you'll recognize him when you see him) as Sam's dad

The Quotes

Samantha: I can't believe this. They #@$%! forgot my birthday.

Jim Baker: That's why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they'd call them something else.

Samantha: May I be excused?
Grandma Helen: Where are you going?
Samantha: I have a dance to go to at school. It's a very important dance... we're being graded on it for Gym.

Jake: I want a serious girlfriend. Somebody I can love, that's gonna love me back. Is that psycho?

Samantha: Donger's here for five hours, and he's got somebody. I live here my whole life, and I'm like a disease.

Jake: Happy birthday, Samantha. Make a wish.
Samantha: Well, it already came true.


Okay, I now expect you all to run out and rent Sixteen Candles. (And if anything happens to Molly Ringwald, Michael Schoeffling, or Anthony Michael Hall in the coming days... I am not responsible. I swear.)

Hugs,
TLC

Sarah Quigley's Prologue

Sarah Quigley is a fellow Dutton author whose debut novel, TMI, came out in April. Considering that her book is about a girl with a tendency to overshare, I though it'd be great to ask Sarah herself to overshare about her own personal work history. She did not disappoint.

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What was your favorite job ever?

I am currently employed at my favorite job ever: stay-at-home mom. My daughter is sixteen months old, and I love being with her every day. We spend a lot of time outside at playgrounds and going for walks. She’s also become a big fan of the library although when we’re there, she’s more interested in pulling books off the shelves than actually reading them. She’ll sit through a huge stack of stories at home, though.

My daughter has so much enthusiasm and is so hungry to learn about her world that she turns even the most mundane activities into adventures. For example, she loves helping me unload the dishwasher. The look of pride and excitement on her face as she hands me a fork is priceless.

Your least favorite job?

I worked at a woolen mill the summer after my freshman year of college. The mill made blankets for a cruise line and several federal prisons. I think it would have been excellent punishment if the prisoners had made their own flippin’ blankets.

My shift was 6:00 AM to 3:00 PM with thirty minutes for lunch. It was absolute drudgery. I assisted a woman who made warps (the vertical strings on a loom), and my main responsibility was to restock the warping machine with rolls of yarn. The yarn broke easily, so I had to retie it. I tied about a thousand knots a day.

To make matters even more Dickensian, it was a scorcher of a summer, and I was in the older part of the factory that wasn’t air-conditioned. I was also right next to the electric looms, which were so loud that I had to wear earplugs.

By far the most depressing thing about this job was the woman I worked with. She’d started her career at the woolen mill the year I was born. I often reflected on the fact that for my whole life, she’d been in that noisy room doing the same thing every day. And she was only earning fifty cents more an hour than I was.

That’s just not right.

Your hardest job?

Hmm, I think it’s actually a tie between stay-at-home mom and woolen mill employee. But not for the same reasons, of course. Being a mom is incredibly intense, but it’s so rewarding. Tying knots all day is soul sucking.

What is the biggest job perk you've had?

Between working at the woolen mill and becoming a mom, I taught English as a second language for eight years. My first teaching job after graduate school was at a private language institute in San Francisco. The institute offered a multitude of social activities, and teachers volunteered to lead the activities.

I was new in town and didn’t know many people yet, so I was happy to spend a few hours after work hanging out with students. I got paid to take them bowling, shopping, and sightseeing, and the school reimbursed me for my expenses. We frequently went to bars and played pool and darts. I asked the bartenders for receipts after they mixed my drinks.

Yep, being paid to play pretty much ruled.

What did you like least about working in an office job?

I know I’m not alone in my hatred of ass time. You know, the obligation to sit at a desk for a certain number of hours each day whether I was doing something productive or not. This was one of the main reasons I decided to go into teaching. Sure, I sat at a desk while lesson planning and grading, but I could leave when I was done. Or I could go do something else for a while and finish things at home. Or at a coffee shop. I need that freedom.

I’ve my share of temping and admin work, where ass time is de rigueur. It was really bad when I was a secretary for a year after college. I didn’t have enough work to do, and I was a prisoner to my cubicle. I don’t even remember how I passed the time, but I should have been working on a novel.

What did you like most about working in an office job?

I’m a fan of paychecks, and I miss those. I also enjoyed my students and still keep in touch with many of them. I traveled to Japan a few years ago, and about a dozen of my former students got together for a party in Tokyo. We stayed out until the wee hours singing karaoke and then went to a Japanese version of Denny’s. That was a great night.

What you would do if you weren't a writer?

Keep mothering my girl, eventually go back to teaching. Or maybe pursue my lifelong dream of being a singer/model/actress. I think I have what it takes to be a triple threat.

What you would do if you were independently wealthy and didn't actually HAVE to work?

I’d hire a cook and a housekeeper so that my husband and I could spend more time enjoying our daughter and each other. This would also give me more time to write. I try to write during naptime, but there are always other things that need doing, and if I’m not doing them, then I’m stressing about not doing them. Today I made 75 Swedish meatballs while my daughter slept. Which was great; now I have a few extra dinners in the freezer. But I didn’t get a chance to write.

I need some servants.

---

What fun! (Well, except for that bit about the woman in the woolen mill.) And, yeah, paychecks. Sigh.

Hugs,
TLC

Buzzing About Back To School

It's my day on the Books, Boys, Buzz... blog again, and this week I'm talking about back to school. Click on over to find out why I'm so jealous.

Hugs,
TLC

Win Books and Prizes While Saving the World

Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating (a teeny, tiny bit), but "from a small seed a mighty trunk may grow," right? I am so excited about this project, and so excited to finally share it with you. Read on to find out what all the secrecy has been about and how you can join me and my friends on our quest to change the world, one Five at a time.

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LIVING YOUR FIVE IS HERE!

We know, we know... we've been hinting about it for weeks. The super secret project of Kay Cassidy, Tera Lynn Childs, Alyson Noel and Becca Fitzpatrick. The #fivers hashtag. The Founding Fiver badges. The huge top secret contest. So many secrets!

Good news. The secret's out.

Join us for the worldwide launch of Living Your Five! Living Your Five is an online community dedicated to changing our world one person at a time. You don't have to cure the world of cancer or banish world hunger in a single day. It's about working together, each of us taking one more step every day. It's about knowing what you care about--what you're passionate about!--and stepping away from the sidelines of your life to make your mark on the world.

To celebrate the launch of the official Living Your Five web site, we're even hosting a contest with awesome daily prizes and a MEGA grand prize all courtesy of our Founding Fivers! Find out all the details at www.livingyourfive.com.

We're ready to change the world. Now it's up to you. Will you watch from the sidelines or join us on the ride? (Come on, we know you want to!)

---

See why I've been so excited? This is going to be phenomenal, and I know I feel like I need to be doing more to make the world a better place. This community is going to help me (and you and hopefully tons of other people) do just that.

So what are you waiting for? Click on over and join the movement.

Hugs,
TLC

TLC in the Big Apple

After all the hubub and glitz in Washington, DC, I hopped on a train for New York. RITA had her own special travel tote and got to have her own seat all the way up.


(I seriously love train travel, btw, and am considering buying an Amtrak pass and setting out cross-country.) When we got to the city, after checking into my fabulous hotel (the Wyndham Garden Times Square South—the shower was so amazing, I could have showered 24/7) I headed out for my favorite New York pizza, Famiglia, for a cheese calzone and garlic knots.


The next day, since I didn't have any meetings scheduled, I decided to be a tourist. I headed to one of my favorite spots in the city: the Metropolitan museum.


Only there was one thing I had not considered. It was summer. I'd never been in the city in the summer, only during the school year, and I was totally unprepared for the throng of people filling the museum.

So, rather than fight the crowd, I walked down Fifth Avenue.


To the Frick Collection, which is smaller and less well-known, but still amazing. (They don't let you take pictures, but I snuck a couple.)


That night there was supposed to be a teen authors drinks night at Sweet and Viscious, a cute little bar in SoHo. I got there early, so I stopped in at Rice to Riches (on Kirsty's recommendation) and had some truly amazing caramel rice pudding.


Then I headed to the meeting spot, which had very cool pink lights behind the bar.


Unfortunately, it was raining (at least, I hope that's why) and no one showed up. Not one other author. Sniff, sniff. That's okay, it was still a delightful time. I drowned my sorrows at Kate's Paperie and the flagship Sephora.

The following day I had appointments to visit my publishers. First up was HarperCollins (home of Katherine Tegen Books—publishers of Forgive My Fins and the untitled-and-unwritten sequel), located just around the corner from the Museum of Modern Art. (I stopped in at the gift shop to get a present for my dad and to cool off in the air conditioning.) We had a fun roundtable meeting and everyone was so excited to meet RITA.


Then I headed downtown to Penguin Young Readers (home of Dutton Children's Books—publishers of Oh. My. Gods. and Goddess Boot Camp) and met the wonderful team there. And, of course, showed off RITA. (First I stopped off in the Starbucks downstairs to cool off—are you sensing a pattern here?)


Then I headed out to Brooklyn to have dinner with my agent. I didn't take any pictures there because, well, it's Brooklyn. Just kidding. It was just in and out for dinner.

I had so much fun meeting everyone and seeing the offices (they weren't nearly as full of manuscript stacks as I'd imagined—but, then again, I bet most stuff comes in via email now). I was sad to leave. The next morning. At 4:30am.


Hopefully I'll be back soon. But not in summer. Never again.

Hugs,
TLC

The RITA Awards (Moment-by-Moment)

Okay, yesterday I promised you more details about the RITA awards ceremony at the Romance Writers of America national conference in Washington, DC, last month. Well, here it is.

First, a kind of horrid picture of me in my very beautiful gold dress. (Thanks Jenn!)


The awards ceremony is always held on Saturday night of the conference, the last event of the year, and let me tell you, romance writers know how to go all out. This thing is like the Academy Awards, complete with jumbo screens, an elevated stage, follow-spots, and clever skits. (Okay, really awful skits, but clever.)

I'm going to skip the part about how my parents (who flew allllll the way to DC from Las Vegas for the ceremony) go into the ballroom. That's a don't ask, don't tell secret, okay? Instead, I'll start with the seating.

Being friends with the other two Young Adult RITA finalists (Tina Ferraro and Rosemary Clement-Moore), we knew we wanted to sit together. We also snagged one of the YA Golden Heart (unpublished) finalists, Vanessa Barneveld. We were in the last row of the center VIP section, and here's the order in which we sat: Vanessa's friend, Vanessa, Tina, Rosemary, me, my editor Sarah, my dad, my mom.

The first half of the ceremony is the Golden Hearts, the awards for unpublished manuscripts. I knew a number of the finalists, but only one author (whom I met the day before through Tina) that I knew won. It's okay, though, it's an honor just to be nominated.

Anyway, after the Golden Hearts (and a couple of skits) they came to the RITAs. I won't bore you with those categories I wasn't nominated for, and will just start with the Young Adult category.

Having read both Tina and Rosemary's books, I thought we all stood a pretty equal chance of winning. We have slightly different styles and it would just depend on the judging pool. We all had our speeches ready.


When they started announcing the nominees we held hands. I saw Rosemary's slide go up on the jumbo screen, then Tina's. Then I pretty much blanked out until the announced the winner. Rosemary!!! (We knew she was going to win because she'd scribbled her speech in the bathroom earlier.)

Okay, I screamed for Rosemary, listened to her adorable speech, and then my mind started drifting. I knew I had no chance of winning the Best First Book category (there were like eight other finalists and we all thought Sherry Thomas was going to win). I started thinking about next year. GODDESS BOOT CAMP isn't quite as romance-y as OH. MY. GODS. so I don't know how well it will do in the RITA, but next summer's FORGIVE MY FINS is totally romance. Maybe I'd have another chance in 2011.

When we got to Best First Book (second to last, btw) I watched the nominees flash across the screen. I actually saw my slide this time—the turquoise in my author pic looked nice with the cover of OH. MY. GODS. I wasn't nervous at all, because I wasn't going to win. My hands weren't shaking. The adrenaline wasn't pumping. As Terri Garey (last year's winner who I'd met the day before) opened the envelope I looked down at the stuff clutched in my hand. My useless speech, my iPhone, and the adorable gold Coach wristlet I'd bought to go with my dress.

Then Terri said, "And the RITA goes to... Oh."

Oh? Oh! She said, OH!

I heard my mom scream. My dad swears I screamed, but I just remember blinking a lot and staring at the screen displaying my picture and my book.

I jumped to my feet and made my way to the aisle—and then realized I needed to make sure my editor with following. She was, thank goodness, because I was in 3-1/2" heels and my legs were noodles and I wouldn't have made it on stage without holding her hand.

Terri hugged me when I made it up the steps and handed me the RITA. Omigods, I actually won!

At this point, I was so stunned that the nerves and the adrenaline could not make their way through the shock. I set the RITA and my speech down on the podium and started to read. Here's what I had written down (which may or may not be exactly what I said—known ad-libs are noted in blue):

I was totally not nervous because I was not supposed to win this category. Wow. Okay, now I have to say my dorky thing. I actually wrote a RITA speech three years ago when I sold this book, think that, if I was ever lucky enough to final, I'd jinx myself by writing it after the fact.

Of course, when it came time to pack for conference that speech was nowhere to be found. I guess the jinx only half-worked.

I have to thank...

• my editor, Sarah Shumway
• my agent, Jenny Bent (who couldn't be here tonight, but sent me a huge bunch of beautiful flowers)
• RWA
• my West Houston ladies (I know there are a lot of us here)
• the judges
• my Buzz Blog girls
• my mentor, Shane Bolks (who also isn't here, and is having a baby soon, so that's probably why)
• my fellow nominees
• my critique partner, best friend, and sister of my heart, Sharie Kohler
• and, as always, my parents, who flew all the way from Vegas for this moment (I guess now it was worth it)

Thank you.

(FYI, giving a speech in front of 2,000 people is horrifying. Especially when you're on a jumbo screen.)

Everything after that is kind of a blur. My editor giving a quick speech. One more category being announced. Taking off my impossibly high heels. Cradling RITA against my side during the dessert reception, at which countless people I knew and didn't know came up to congratulate me. (Including Barbara Samuel, who had been the keynote speaker at my very first conference.) Texts and phone calls from friends and Buzz girls who hadn't made the conference.

Floating on this crazy cloud I never really believed I could reach, and sharing that moment with my best friend and my editor. Reliving it puts me right back up on that cloud.

(Me and Sarah at the reception.)

And that's it. The story of my RITA. Here she is in her current home, beneath my faux Morroccan lanterns from Target and my twin RITA nominee flags.


Hugs,
TLC

Fast Times in the Nation's Capitol

Last week I gave you a very quick overview of how I spent this summer, and now I'm going to give you a closer peek at my destinations. (Not Vegas, though, because haven't I posted enough about that town?) Let's start with my first east coast destination... Washington, DC.

I went to Washington for the annual Romance Writers of America national conference. Each year, two thousand aspiring and published romance authors converge on a city and spend a few days networking, attending classes, and catching up with long-distance friends.

The first night in town, my best friend/critique partner/roommate USA Today bestselling author Sophie Jordan (aka Sharie Kohler) went out with a group of Avon authors for dinner. Our patio table overlooked the Potomac River, just around the bend from the notorious Watergate Hotel. (That's it in the picture below.)


And here is my requisite self-portrait. (Also behind my head, just the left, is the fabulous Kennedy Center.)


After days of workshops and meetings and chatting with friends over drinks and lunch, the final night of the conference came. And with it, the awards ceremony. It just so happens that I (and Oh. My. Gods.) were nominated for two prestigious RITA awards: Best Young Adult and Best First Book. More about the ceremony in tomorrow's blog, but for now, see if you can guess the outcome.


My parents actually flew all the way to DC from Las Vegas for the ceremony (thank goodness I won, huh?) and so, after the conference, we spent a couple days sightseeing. We saw...

The Treasury Building

The Capitol

The White House
(note the oh-so-subtle sniper on the roof)

The Washington Monument
(that's my dad and my mom and me, please ignore my sliver of belly and the disgruntled look on my face--suffice it to say that I was way better at taking pictures than a certain parent of mine)

We walked by a very cool statue of Nathan Hale. (I have a thing for taking pictures of statues and plaques, but I will try to refrain from posting more than this.) FYI, Nathan Hale was not only a spy and a hero, he was also way yummy.


We had a lot of fun at the National Building Museum. Check out this amazingly huge columns!


They are among the largest indoor columns in the world. I would definitely go back to this museum again. (Except that there are so many others to see... maybe someday.)


After our sightseeing, we went to the Shakespeare Theatre's production of King Lear, one of my favorite Shakespeare plays. It starred Stacy Keach (aka Mike Hammer) as Lear and, with the exception of him and the actors portraying Edmund and Kent, it was sadly awful. (There's a blog post coming about that, too, so I won't dwell too much.)

Before catching the train out of DC, I met up with online pal and author extraordinaire, Bennett Madison, at Union Station. While we only had a short while to chat (and I was overheating most of the time), it was a lot of fun. It's always fun to talk with other authors--especially ones with hair as insanely fluffed out as Bennett's.

Tune in tomorrow for a play-by-play of the RWA RITA ceremony.

Hugs,
TLC

Buzzing About Writing Contests

Today I'm over on the Buzz Blog talking about writing contests for aspiring authors. Click on over to read my thoughts.

Hugs,
TLC

Instruments of Art

Something magical happens every time I watch American Idol. Or So You Think You Can Dance. Or Top Chef. Not only do I get sucked into that world for an hour or two a week, but I also start fantasizing. I start thinking, I could be the next American Idol. Or, I'm just a few dance classes away from So You Think You Can Dance.

That fantasy feeling usually lasts an hour or two after the show, in which I start looking up songs to sing or break out my ballet slippers and start tip-toeing my way around the apartment. Eventually it wears off and I realize how much I hate being on stage in front of hundreds or thousands or millions of people. What was I thinking? Must have been momentary insanity.

Since becoming a writer, though—an artist* in my own right—I've started thinking about why I take these little plunges into fantasy. And why I always return to reality. After a lot of thought on the matter, I realized there is only one answer:

Words are my instrument.

Artists cannot convey their purpose through thought alone. People can't read minds. Artists need an instrument of expression that translates the thoughts in their mind into a medium that others can (usually) understand.

The reason we are so drawn into So You Think You Can Dance is because those dancers are expressing emotion, character, and story using their bodies as their instruments of art. Next time, watch the dancers when they receive their critiques from the judges. Whether the results or good or bad, you'll see the dancer's reaction in their entire body. Dancers making it through to the next round invariably jump up and down, wave their arms in the air, or fall to their knees in relief. Their emotions come out through their bodies. They can't help it because their bodies are their instruments.


In the same way, a painter uses a brush and paint and canvas to express emotion. As Georgia O'Keeffe said:

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way — things I had no words for.

Me, I have the words for those things. (Or, at least, I try to have them. I strive to have them.)

My dad is a theatrical lighting designer, and anyone who has ever seen one of his shows knows that light is his instrument. He can tell a story, convey the essence of a moment using light alone. Can't you just sense the emotion happening in the photo below?


You don't even have to know what show it is to know that this is a moment of separation, of goodbye, of abandonment. My dad uses light in the same way I use words, in the same way the playwright (Tennessee Williams, btw) used words.

I believe that all arts have their unique instruments. Singers, obviously, use their voices. Dancers, their bodies. A chef, his food. Actors use something akin to their entire souls to embody character. Musicians literally use their instruments, sculptors use their hands, and architects use stone, metal and glass. Though they all pursue the same purpose, conveying emotion, it is the instrument that differentiates the various arts.

In a way, I feel a little guilty every time I start practicing songs or doing arabesques in the living room. Is it demeaning to the artist who inspired me to think I, too, could achieve their level of skill? Or is it a testament to their talent that I am so inspired? Maybe it's both? (And at least I come back to my senses before I go registering for voice lessons.)

Maybe it comes down to the difference between skill and talent. With enough practice anyone can learn to yield a brush or a guitar or words with a certain degree of skill. I could learn to sing well enough to not embarrass myself on karaoke night. (Okay, maybe not.) But I'll never have the vocal talent to move people with music in the way Aretha Franklin or John Lennon or Michael Jackson can.

I've discovered my instrument, my means of communicating emotion to others, and I strive every day to improve my skill and (hopefully) development my talent. I'll leave the other instruments to the artists who belong to them.

Hugs,
TLC

* by "artist" I mean anyone who uses a creative means to convey a thought/emotion/story/character/moment to others

A Trans-American Journey

I am officially back among the living. After a crazy summer--I won't say the craziest ever, because I've had some doozies--I am back in Houston (for now) and back on the internet. (I even have a cool new list-thingy that will help plan out a schedule of blog post ideas--which means I might actually have some posting consistency. No promises, though.)

If you already follow me on Twitter, then you read all the craziness as it happened.

If you don't believe me about my crazy summer, here's where I was...



The complete itinerary includes: fly to OKC, drive to Vegas, fly to Houston, fly to DC, train to NYC, fly to Vegas, drive to OKC, drive to Houston. All in the space of two and a half months. Is it any wonder that I went AWOL for awhile?

But now I'm back! And, after sharing some more details about my Summer of Crazy, I have some fun blogs planned.

Also, there should be official cover art for FORGIVE MY FINS and an excerpt available soonish. Check in often to see get the dish.

Hugs,
TLC