MY COVER THAT I LOVE. HERE IS THE FRONT:

AND HERE IS THE BACK.

I’m obviously thrilled, since I can’t stop talking in all caps. WHAT DO Y’ALL THINK??

Oh yes, and I promised FREE BOOKS (there I go again)!!!

If you comment on this post, you’ll be entered to win a pre-order of one of the following summer releases that I CAN’T WAIT TO EITHER READ OR RE-READ.

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

Timepiece by Myra McEntire

Something Like Normal by Trish Doller

The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls by Claire LeGrand

False Memory by Dan Krokos

This Is Not a Test by Courtney Summers

You’ll also be the proud winner of an ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of Whispers in Autumn. Just leave a comment and tell me which book you’d choose if you won. Also, you could leave me recommendations for YOUR most coveted summer reads, because I love me some recommendations.

Thanks for being a part of this day!

Those of you with toddlers, who maybe don’t hear a whole lot of alternate vocabulary, might be giving me the side-eye right now, but seriously – what could be a more important word for a girl to be comfortable saying?

I’m no expert, obviously, but I have spent a good amount of time writing for teens (so stuck in their heads), and for four or five years I headed up the youth program at my church, a group filled with girls from bad homes, troubled situations, and who had lived through experiences at sixteen I had never encountered in twenty-five years.

I’m not trying to show a gender bias here, or stereotype, but when it comes to relationships (especially teenage ones, but hell, I’m dating in my 30’s and this advice still applies), girls are the ones who have to say no. If I had a daughter, I’d sit her down and say:

“Look. What I’m about to tell you totally sucks, and it’s not fair, but if you’re in a relationship with a boy, it’s your job to say no. Stop. I’m not ready. Even the nicest, sweetest, well-intentioned boy on the planet is going to push the boundaries. If he respects you, it will be fine when you tell him no. Don’t worry about hurting his feelings, or embarrassing him, because he’s waiting for you to say it. If you don’t…the situation might turn into something you’re not ready to handle. And don’t wait for him, because he won’t say it.”

The issue is, already we feel like there’s something wrong with saying no.

This is a beef of mine with boys in YA. They’re far too verbal about not only being willing to, but initiating the desire to stop/back off/wait/etal to be actual teenage boys. I mean, I dated (a few) extremely nice boys when I was a teenager. They liked me, they would never have hurt me, but they still wanted to have sex. Perhaps we should be preparing our girls for the real thing – the moment when a physical/romantic moment is getting carried away and you do like the boy and you enjoy how he makes you feel, but you’re not ready and you need to say no.

Because that moment? It’s hard, you guys.

I also think learning to say no applies to situations outside of the romantic. Women like my mother, my critique partner, my aunts and ladies at church…they’re run ragged trying to do everything for everyone. Maybe they feel obligated, perhaps they just want to help, or were raised to believe a woman’s job is to take care of people. I also think it’s because we want to be able to help our friends, coworkers, new writers, family, and anyone else who deserves it.

Or it could be that they simply don’t know how to refuse without feeling badly.

The last one is my issue, a lack of comfort with confrontation. Since I made the decision to self-publish, I’ve been bombarded with decisions about what editors, copy editors, proofreaders, covers, etc to choose and sending those emails declining service from the rest has been a rough thing. I’ve even felt guilty emailing my cover designer back with a “eh, I’m not sure, what if we tried this instead” or “can we still add this to the front?” afraid she’ll be upset with me or that I’m causing more work. Which is silly, I know. My brain knows that.

Such simple phrases – No, thank you. No, it’s not quite right. No, I don’t have time.

Why can it be so hard to say sometimes?

Would you like to know what happens to writers who type over 30,000 words in a single week?

Mostly, I’m just pretty tired and have sore wrists, although there’s also been a lot of staring at the real world in confusion because it’s not the made up world in my head. Actual people who aren’t characters in my book seem like mirages instead of the other way around. I haven’t done laundry or cleaned my kitchen in going on 2 weeks, and showering is a chore I make time for every three days or so.

Yes, I am single. Why do you ask?

Oh, and I got hit in the face with a volleyball at least twice.

Yesterday, I hit rock bottom and started conversing with my characters. It went a little bit like this.

ME: “Okay, guys. I feel really bad about this,but it’s time for the Scary Battle You Think You Can’t Win.”

ALTHEA: “Why won’t we win? We can <redacted> and get out of it unscathed in like, two seconds. Simple.”

ME: “WHY DID I WRITE SUCH A SMART PANTS IT’S ANNOYING. YOU’RE ANNOYING.”

ALTHEA: “It’s not my fault you’re not smart enough to give me a real obstacle.”

ME: “Oh yeah? Well how about I make <redacted> happen? And then I throw some <redacted> at you?”

ALTHEA: *rolls eyes* “That doesn’t change anything. We can still just <redacted>.”

ME: “Fine, you’re right. That’s why I’m going to smash in your boyfriend’s face. I hope you’re happy.”

*tries to curtesy* *falls down* *conks out*

XOXO, lovers.

“I’ve got that excited scared feeling, where it’s like your 2% excited and 98% scared. Or maybe it’s 98% excited and 2% scared, but that’s what makes it so intense!”

It’s name that quote time!

Winner gets a copy of Kody Keplinger’s super fun contemporary YA, Shut Out. Because I’m nice like that. Also I have an extra.

What made me choose that quote, you ask? I’ll tell you.

*deep breath*

I’ve decided to self-publish my post-apocalyptic YA series, The Last Year.

This is a big decision, but one that I’m exited/scared to take on in the coming months. Since there is much discussion in publishing these days about going it alone versus waiting for a traditional deal from the Big Six, I thought I’d come right out and share the reasons I made this decision (and the reasons I didn’t).

So here you go.

Reasons I’m self-publishing The Last Year

• Readers are hungry for more dystopian/post-apocalyptic in the wake of The Hunger Games. Sometimes it’s hard to remember, since I’m kind of immersed in publishing, but many people are discovering those books for the first time and searching for similar titles. It just so happens I have a story to share.
• That said, even if I signed with an agent tomorrow, he or she wouldn’t be able to sell The Last Year in New York. Big Six publishing is already working on titles for 2014, when they expect the dystopian craze lit by the popularity of Hunger Games (etal) to have died out.
• The manuscripts I’ve written since I began The Last Year are vastly different in tone, content, and genre. If I signed with an agent for one of my historical fantasy YA’s, they likely would have no interest in these books
• Which means if I don’t self-publish this series, it will gather dust on my hard drive, perhaps forever. Sure, there’s a chance in ten or fifteen or twenty years New York will be hungry for post-apocalyptic manuscripts again, but there’s no guarantee. Which leads me to my last, and most important, reason…
• I love this story. It pains me to think these characters will be relegated to silence, for no one to get to know them and their tale as I have. I want to share them with you, and with whoever wants the chance to read them. I’ve shelved plenty of novels over the past five years, but none of the others sadden me.

NOT Reasons I’m self-publishing The Last Year

• I’m angry about not finding another agent after firing mine a year ago.
• I don’t think I’m “good enough” to get an agent/book deal.
• I want to “stick it” to the establishment, or traditional publishing, by selling a gabillion copies and then flipping them the bird when they inevitably come knocking.
• I’m giving up on traditional publishing, or querying, or one day working with an agent to establish and build a long term career.

So there you go. As I said, I’m still planning to pursue traditional publishing for my current projects. My Historical-New Orleans-Voodoo-Zombie-Pirate novel should be ready to query by the end of the summer.

BUT LET’S RETURN TO THE NEWS AT HAND, YES?

It’s been a whirlwind since I made this decision. I’ve hired a cover designer, who has created an amazing concept for all 4 novels that I cannot wait to share with you – hopefully very soon.

Some of the priceless contacts I’ve made within the publishing community over the past years gave recommendations for four editors with impressive backgrounds, and making a choice was terribly hard. That said, I’m so pleased with the decision I’ve made, and can’t wait to see my books grow through her developmental and line edits.

I’ve got a copyeditor and proofreader on board.

I’ve got my friend Denise Swank, who has taken Amazon by storm with her self-published novels over the past 9 months, and she’s going to be a priceless resource – she already has been.

I plan to publish all four books in The Last Year series between July and January.

Yes, I’m crazy, but it’s not like that was a disputed fact before I made this announcement.

The first installment, Whispers in Autumn, will be available on July 24, 2012.

To all of you – friends inside publishing and those who aren’t, along with my precious family – I could not have made this decision or come this far without your support. Most of all, I’m excited to share some of my stories with you.

Whispers in Autumn is up on Goodreads, with a summary, if you would like to add it.

It. Is. Brilliant, you guys.

It’s a well-written, fast paced thriller with a strong heroine, an unexpected guy, and stakes that will raise your eyebrows right off your face. Whatever that means.

Here’s the official summary:

Two days before the start of her junior year, seventeen-year-old Janelle Tenner is hit by a pickup truck and killed—as in blinding light, scenes of her life flashing before her, and then nothing. Except the next thing she knows, she’s opening her eyes to find Ben Michaels, a loner from her high school whom Janelle has never talked to, leaning over her. And even though it isn’t possible, she knows—with every fiber of her being—that Ben has somehow brought her back to life.

But her revival, and Ben’s possible role in it, is only the first of the puzzles that Janelle must solve. While snooping in her FBI agent father’s files for clues about her accident, she uncovers a clock that seems to be counting down to something—but to what? And when someone close to Janelle is killed, she can no longer deny what’s right in front of her: Everything that’s happened—the accident, the murder, the countdown clock, Ben’s sudden appearance in her life—points to the end of life as she knows it. And as the clock ticks down, she realizes that if she wants to put a stop to the end of the world, she’s going to need to uncover Ben’s secrets—and keep from falling in love with him in the process.

From debut author Elizabeth Norris comes this shattering novel of one girl’s fight to save herself, her world, and the boy she never saw coming.

You can read the first 90 pages of UNRAVELING here.

The following is a prompt given to me by Sarah Goldberg, the lovely lady who put this release day blog celebration into action:

In one scene of the novel Janelle and Ben get in a heated debate about a marriage proposal in the Dickens novel they’re reading in English class, a debate which echoes in the development of their relationship later in the novel. Do you have a favorite (or least favorite!) fictional declaration of love or proposal?

For me, it’s easy to choose two favorite fictional declarations of love, but not one. So I’m cheating. YOU’RE SHOCKED I KNOW.

First, the tried and true: Mr. Darcy’s first and last declarations of love in Pride and Prejudice. Seriously. It’s ridiculously romantic, honest, and simultaneously heartfelt and heartbreaking. A true portrayal of the agony that accompanies finally admitting love to yourself, to someone else, and handing over your heart while you wait for them to cradle it or smash it to bits. Perfection on the page. Perfection on screen.

Second, I’m going to show my girl face here and also pick the scene from The Notebook,when Allie has come back to Seabrook to see Noah. They loved each other once, but each is afraid of what it means to admit they still do. It’s become something of a cliché, but that scene in the rain, when she finally gets up the nerve to ask the question she’ll never be able to live without knowing the answer to – “why didn’t you write me?” – and then Noah finds the courage to replay “it still isn’t over.”

I don’t care. Make fun of me, but I can’t imagine that ever not being one of my favorite moments, novel or film.

So there you go. Please tell me your favorite declarations of love and/or fictional proposals!

And treat yourself to a hard or e-copy of Unraveling by Elizabeth Norris. It’s available today at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or your local booksellers!!!

That’s To-Be-Read, for the uninitiated, and the authors I’ve met are some of the most voracious readers on the planet. I’m just happy I’m not alone in this addiction, although I do fear the lot of us are going to end up on a new TLC show that combines Hoarders, My Strange Addiction, and whatever that messy house show is with the super annoying black lady for a host.

We all admit we have a problem. It’s called acquiring so many books that it would take more than a year to read them even if you didn’t buy any more, which let’s face it, is probably not going to happen (strike the probably).

So we decided to compare TBR piles. Some of theirs put mine to shame (Liz). Or puts them to shame. Either way. Check out Liz Norris, Rick Lipman, and Ali Trotta‘s piles after you peruse mine. Jenn Rush promised to show us hers today, too.

Dan Krokos is also supposed to play, but as he is an established hater of fun, we won’t hold our breath.

So far, in 2012, I have read 14 books (plus three fantastic unpublished manuscripts):

Bossypants by Tina Fey

A Clash of Kings by George RR Martin*

Night by Elie Wiesel

The Disenchantments by Nina LaCour

Wings of the Wicked by Courtney Allison Moulton

Hare Moon by Carrie Ryan

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

White Cat by Holly Black

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

A Storm of Swords by George RR Martin**

Wanderlove by Kirsten Hubbard

Spell Bound by Rachel Hawkins

Viral by James Lilliefors

Born Wicked by Jessica Spotswood

*These books should count as two. Or three. Anything over 1K pages isn’t a single manuscript, GRRM.

**Seriously.

Here are the books I have been hoarding. There are 98. NINETY-EIGHT unread books laying around my house. I fully intend to read each and every single one, and enjoy it, too.

Ready to show me yours?

In the immortal words of Gretchen Weiners, “I can’t help it that I’m so popular.”

Right. Erm.

At any rate, this time I was tagged by the lovely Liz Norris, who I still like despite the fact that I’ve not been offered an early copy of her upcoming novel, Unraveling, which sounds phenomenal (another one to slap on your pre-order list).

The fact that she also loves to tweet chat about Game of Thrones tipped the scales back in her favor.

I’m going to play one more time, because I love Liz and also I’m a narcissist/masochist who enjoys/fears posting lines from WIPs. I’m not going to tag anyone else, because I am too lazy to figure out who hasn’t participated as of yet. If you’re reading this and thinking DAMMIT TRISH YOU SHOULD HAVE TAGGED ME, first of all WATCH YOUR DAMN MOUTH and second of all, I invite you to post lines on your blog and pretend that I did.

I’ll roll with it. I’m easy like that.

Er, but not like THAT. Unless you are Robb Stark.

Wait, what were we talking about?

Oh yes.

Here are the rules, in case you live under a rock haven’t heard them before:

The deal is that if an author is tagged, we’re supposed to:

1. Go to the seventh or seventy-seventh page of our WIP.
2. Count down seven lines.
3. Copy the seven sentences that follow and post them.
4. Tag seven other authors

These are the requisite lines from p77 of Believe, aka Historical New Orleans Voodoo Zombie Pirate Novel aka the Novel That Is Currently Trying To Kill Me aka My Favorite Draft To Date.

Sera and Violine will be friends some day. At least, that is the plan. *smashes characters faces together*

Sera grew impatient with the mulatto girl’s disdain and crossed her arms. “Well, what is it, then?”

“Look, it wasn’t exactly my intention to become an errand boy for you and your friend. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me out of your nonsense. I’ve no mind to anger Lafitte.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, Violine.”

“Your friend, Charlotte? The one run off with the pirates, remember her?”

TADA.

Ah. Another year older and all that jazz. I’m actually not a huge birthday celebrator, but all of the friends who remember make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Actually, I think this is one of the best unintentional effects of Facebook.

Lord knows there are plenty of not so best effects of Facebook.

If you’re looking for some profound birthday wisdom…I’m sorry.

If you’re looking for a gift, here are a few suggestions, in no particular order:

1. Jude Law (I would also accept Zac Efron. If I had to).

2. The CW to renew Hart of Dixie

3. The world’s assholes to stop pushing around/abusing beings weaker than they are

4. Congress to either stop taking paychecks or for the love of armadillos do something productive

5. A month in Barcelona

6. Seats at Wimbledon

7. A maid

8. At least another 10 years with my grandmother

9. The Braves to win a pennant for Chipper this year

10. A new literary agent

BONUS: Hold George RR Martin hostage until he finishes A Song of Ice and Fire. This is not only for me, it is the gift that keeps on giving for the whole world.

I realize some of these aren’t exactly reasonable. But it’s my birthday, and I am rarely reasonable even on regular days. Also, a girl can dream, right?

THESE ARE MY PARENTS. THEY APPEAR NORMAL, EVEN NICE. DO NOT LET THEM FOOL YOU.

When I was in high school, pretty much everything my parents did made me want to hide under the bed, but there is one incident in particular that made me want to curl into a ball and die. It was spring, and the screen to the sliding glass door onto the deck had a rip in it. My dad, being the responsible male homeowner that he is, decided it needed to be fixed.

The Problem: My parents both owned sedans.

The Solution: Drape a (hideous bright red and pink floral) quilt over the roof of the Ford Taurus, rest the screen on top of it, and then have the entire family drive THROUGH DOWNTOWN RIGHT PAST MY HIGH SCHOOL with an arm out the window to keep the screen from blowing away like we were auditioning to be the new Griswolds.

I. Wanted. To. Die.

My father took some kind of sick glee in how humiliated the ten minute drive made me. I suspect he chose the most garish quilt he could find, and that the fact that he drove so slow he could have been the Grand Marshal of the Rose Bowl Parade had more to do with extracting the maximum level of embarrassment and not being careful of the (already ripped) screen.

I survived. Yes, we had to make a repeat performance when the screen was repaired and ready to be picked up. I still love my parents, but it was touch and go for a few years there.

Recalling this episode made me think about one of the criticisms people have of YA literature, namely that the parents are often conveniently missing/dead/distracted/immature. The trope allows teenagers to easily get into situations that attentive parents would prevent or at least complicate…like, you know, getting caught in a werewolf-vampire love triangle etal. The last draft I completed, a YA mystery called What I Know About Charlie, featured my first set of normal, involved parents. I also recently finished a beta read for the lovely Anne Riley, and her paranormal YA also incorporated a strong familial influence.

As much as the absent parents are easier (and yes, often they are necessary to the plot/character development/worldbuilding – I’m not blanket criticizing the use of this element), it is refreshing to see families used as a constructive piece in storytelling. There are certainly plenty of kids out there growing up with some form of absent parents, but there are also a wealth of young readers who deal with loving, overbearing, annoying, embarrassing parents on a daily basis. Leaving them out categorically robs us of the chance to write (and read) some honest, humiliating, potentially funny scenes…in addition to highlighting the care and support one’s family can bring to the table in times of trouble.

Want to read some books with strong, well-written, impactful parent-child relationships? Try:

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

How To Save a Life and Sweethearts by Sara Zarr

Invincible Summer by Hannah Moskowitz

If I Stay by Gayle Foreman

Fracture by Megan Miranda

What do you think? Does it matter? Are there times you read a book, read that the parents are dead or uninterested, and roll your eyes? If you have other reads that you loved, please share them. I love recommendations!

I always make sure I’m on Grandma’s Team.

THIS IS MY GRANDMA. YES SHE IS AWESOME. NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER.

Grandma’s Team or Bust. I need a shirt.

Ahem. At any rate…

Apparently there is this writer’s meme going around the blogosphere. It’s called The Lucky 7 Game, and it’s basically a game of writerly tag. If you’re tagged, you have to do the following:

1. Go to page 7 or 77 in your current manuscript
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next seven lines/sentences as they are – no cheating
4. Tag 7 other authors

Please note that the rules listed above are a compilation of the two variations as quoted by the lovely lady who tagged me, one Miss Claire Legrand. You can AND SHOULD preorder her debut middle grade novel, The Canvendish Home For Boys and Girls before you finish reading my anticlimactic post.

…

Back so soon?

Okay. I chose a WIP called Believe, a Historical YA set in early 19th century New Orleans. This is from p.7, and in the opening 6 pages the narrator, Serafine, has been bitten by a rattlesnake in her father’s sugarcane fields.

She was gasping now. It hadn’t been more than ten minutes but she’d never live to see her parents or Charlotte again. Or know if Xavier had secretly wanted to kiss her all these years too.

Serafine struggled at his side for what seemed like hours, not wanting to give up but fighting the desire to lay down and let death win with every step. She glanced down and checked her right leg every few seconds, sure it had caught fire, but no flames smoldered on her dress. Black smudged the edges of her vision and wouldn’t recede no matter how hard she blinked.

A mound of dirt rose up out of nowhere, sending her to her knees despite Xavier’s death grip on her waist.

So there you go! Smallest snippet ever!

I know I’m a few days behind on this game, so if I tag you and you’ve already been tagged by someone else, my apologies. It is, of course, still an honor to be nominated.

I’m tagging:

Jen Stayrook aka Jen the Amazing

Jamie Wyman

MG Buehrlen

Amalia Dillon

Rick Lipman

Ali Trotta

Bill Cameron

Thanks for playing!

Also, totally weird how long it’s been since I blogged. I will be back. That’s a promise. Warning. Whichever.