My VerboCity

Moving!

2010-03-07T18:48:00.003-05:00

I'm in the process of moving everything over to Wordpress. Click here to see the new site and let me know what you think! Also, don't forget to update your feed!

Print-On-Demand Does Not Equal Instant Bookstore

2010-02-16T22:05:00.004-05:00

I do think the Espresso book machine, the end of the return system, and embracing e-books and interactive derivatives could solve a lot of the bottom-line issues in publishing. I personally can't think of a single other industry that knowingly pulps nearly half of their product!

But Moriah Jovan's post on the perfect bookstore makes it sound as if all of publishing's problems are instantly solved with print-on-demand. There is a lot to consider though in the adoption of POD technology.

My perfect bookstore would have a couple of Espresso machines and access to a large catalog, too. But having one hardcover copy of a bestseller isn't very practical, and ordering one copy even every week is going to eat up a ton of bookstore profit in shipping. Publishers also have relationships with book buyers that are based on retailers buying bulk quantities at special discounts. If publishers were suddenly shipping books one at a time, you can bet the discount to retailers would be drastically dropped, which means that the discount passed on to the consumer would be lowered, too. Publishers are also not going to release the rights to print a new book on demand if they're also trying to sell thirty dollar hardcovers, so only having one hardcover in stock and printing the rest as you go isn't actually a viable option. (You may say, “well then charge them both $30!” but what consumer is going to pay the same price for a book printed in front of them in paperback as they do for a hardcover with a dust jacket?)

It's also been my experience that print-on-demand titles are still priced higher than a typical trade paperback through online retailers. How to price a print-on-demand book is still a difficult question, and how does an author really benefit by print-on-demand edition is still in question, too. If the publisher retains print-on-demand rights, how many books does an author have to sell in order to make it worthwhile for the author? Depending on the contract language, authors may find that they can't terminate their current contract and sell physical rights to another publisher because they are still technically selling one book a year via print-on-demand.

Also, there can be a difference in the quality of a print-on-demand book and a regular trade paperback. Children's picture books would probably be cost prohibitive to print on an Espresso, since colored toner is more expensive. The quality could also suffer if, for example, the magenta was running low and suddenly everything has sort of a greenish tint to it.

Lastly, an Espresso costs around $80,000. Independent bookstores might not have the money to plunk down on an Espresso machine, and that could mean that the small corner bookshop is going to have to fight that much harder to stay in business when the chain stores are putting Espressos in their stores.

All that said, I'm certainly not anti-POD, and was thrilled to see the machine in action during the 2009 Tools of Change conference. But there's a lot more to it than a simple click and print.

--
This is also cross-posted on Litdrift

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

2010-01-28T10:28:00.002-05:00

Last night, I finished Jay Asher’s 13 Reasons Why. (I know, I know, I am the last person on the planet to read this book. Also: spoiler alert below!)

This morning, I thought about how the teen bullies in high school, become the bullies in college, become the bullies in the office. How someone like Bryce, for example, will continue to abuse women until they’re in prison. And I wondered how many girls were like Hannah, who felt the snowball rolling and didn’t think there was any other way to stop the slide.

I’ll admit, when I started the book, I was a little taken aback by the anger in Hannah’s voice. She was hard to empathize with, and at the end of the first few tapes I thought, “okay, high school sucks. But suicide worthy?” But I think when Asher gave Clay that moment of clarity – that he wasn’t getting to know Hannah better; he was learning about Hannah at her end -- it was also a moment of clarity for the reader. As I read further, I found myself hoping that perhaps Hannah had sent the tapes and then ran away. A twist ending, where she wasn’t dead, and Clay could save her. I knew that was ridiculous, it was clear the book wasn’t set up that way. But still, I hoped.

And this morning, I felt sad for the loss of Hannah – a character who was already dead from the moment I opened the book. And angry at her classmates, most of them flawed individuals (like all of us), but some worse than others. But I also felt relieved for Skye, and the real-life teenagers like her that are walking the hallways. Perhaps Asher’s message of reaching out/stopping the snowball will reach them.

Questions:

1.) In general, what did you think of the book, my bloggery readers?

2.) On Amazon, a few commenters feel that Hannah's reasons were trivial. Do you agree?

3.) Some commenters also feel that this book shouldn't be read by anybody under 17 (!). Do you think books about suicidal teens encourage teens to commit suicide?

2 New Ways to Get Feedback On Your Work

2010-01-26T08:00:00.001-05:00

Today I write to you with 2 new ways to receive feedback on your work!

Way the First:

My brilliant colleague Sarah LaPolla is offering freelance critiques. She enjoys older YA, literary and commercial fiction, narrative nonfiction and sci-fi/fantasy. Find out more about how to get a critique on Sarah's blog.

Way the Second:

After several years of critiquing for conferences, I am also hanging my shingle as a freelancer!

You'll receive an editorial letter with thoughts on the quality of your writing, narrative arc, character development, world building and overall marketability, along with a recommendation on your next steps. A line-by-line edit can be done for an additional fee. My specialties are picture books, early chapter books, middle grade and young adult fiction and non-fiction. Email me at myverbocity @ gmail . com for a quote on your query letter, partial or full manuscript. (Or email to say "hello" if I've critiqued your work in the past, and give me an update on your progress!)

Please note: Manuscripts will not be considered submissions to Curtis Brown.

Are Zombies Bringing Austen Back to Her Roots?

2010-01-25T23:38:00.004-05:00

A peek at this week's Lit Drift post:

Are Zombies Bringing Austen Back to Her Roots?

"Laura Miller’s piece in Salon last week touched upon our continued interest in reinventing Jane Austen into what most pleases ourselves. Given the ridiculous success of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and multiple vampire books*, there’s been much talk about whether Jane Austen herself would be rolling in her grave, or perhaps amused to see her stories with “ultra violent zombie mayhem.”

I can’t help but wonder though, if we’ve unconsciously brought Jane Austen full-circle. Though Austen never wrote about zombies, her juvenilia is full of scandal -- carriage chases, divorce, murder and other mayhem, without always punishing the offending character. (Though this may not sound very scandalous to us, but in Victorian England this was extremely shocking, and to protect her reputation, Austen’s juvenilia was not published by the family until over 100 years later.)

But much like the spirit behind Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Austen’s humor is tongue-in-cheek, and at 14 she’s already noticed the inordinate number of women who faint in the novels of her time."

Read the rest here.

Sequels are Tricky, Tricky, Tricky

2010-01-18T14:27:00.009-05:00

Sequels are stressful.

Timing

If you write it too soon, you could spend over a year writing the sequel to an unpublishable first book. The chances of selling a sequel to a book that has already been rejected 100 times are not that great. And if you're not careful, you could be writing the following sentences in your next query: "FORTRESS OF AWESOMENESS: THE CRAFTING COMPLETE is the twenty-third book in a twenty-three book series. All books are available."

This would be bad news bears.

On the other hand, what many people don't realize is that once your first book is sold, you are still going to need to devote a large chunk of time to editing that book while you're trying to write the sequel. Before the first book is in copyediting, you're probably going to want to ramp up your marketing efforts. And when the first book is published, you're going to want to be even more available to schools and libraries.

What was that bundle of papers I was working on? Oh RIGHT! The next book.

The Desire to Info Dump

You have to craft a sequel so that readers that have read the first book don't lose interest because of constant info dumping, but readers who are jumping in from book two (the horror!) have all the relevant information they need from book one.

Carefully look over your manuscript. Do you find large sections where you are telling the reader more than you're showing? Is everything you're telling the reader relevant to the scene at hand? Are large chunks of exposition deflating the tension in your scenes?

On the flip side though, don't assume that even the readers that read book one have remembered everything. It could be a couple months to a couple years in between book one and book two.

The Sophomore Slump

Now that book buyers and advance reviews are raving about your first book, the pressure is on to create a super-fantastic follow-up. (If Kirkus had folded, your biggest stressor might have been eliminated. Huzzah - no such luck!) Now you must sit at the computer, rocking back and forth and mumbling "No Kirkus No Kirkus WHAM... 'This book is excellent, as a paperweight.'"

No whammy. No whammy. STOP!

Where Did Everybody Go?

Most series have one book that, for some reason or another, never sells as well as the other books. In a series of four, you might see the sales on book two plummet, but then pick back up for books three and four.

As an author, you may be tempted to contact each and every person who ever bought book one and bribe them to buy book two.

One poorly sold book isn't necessarily a death sentence though, and many publishers will continue to support the series. (Unscientific fun fact: The average series length is around four books.)

Anyway, bribing your audience is also time-consuming and expensive.

Anybody here working on a sequel? What are your thoughts?

To Err is Human, To Craft Devine

2010-01-05T08:00:00.002-05:00

These past few weeks have been spent in a HURRICANE-FORCE-BLUR-OF-CRAFTINESS-AND-BOOKS, and I'm quite happy about it!

First, I decided to make my own dress for the Curtis Brown Christmas party and for New Years, opting for a retro taffeta party dress. I had this pattern:

and made this dress:

front

back

A Few Things People Will Not Tell You Until After You've Bought Five Yards of Taffeta With Only Three Weeks Until Your Christmas Party:

1.) Taffeta has to be hand-basted before you can put it in the machine. As in, you Sew. All. The. Seams. By. Hand. First.

2.) Even with the zipper foot on your machine, and the hand-basting, and the fact that you've already done it three times -- it still might take you four times to get the zipper in the way you'd like. As in, not attached to anything it shouldn't be, or with enough material around it that it looks like you gathered it on purpose, which you definitely did not.

3.) Taffeta stains as soon as you look at it.

Anyway, I'm still pretty pleased with it, and it was a hit at both parties. (The belt in the picture isn't what I actually wore with it, but was just a placeholder.)

The next project (also part of Totally Crafty Christmas) was a messenger bag for my sister, using directions I found on mmmcrafts. I'm sure you're well aware of how much my sister and I love the Elephant and Piggie books, so I recreated a scene from Are You Ready To Play Outside? for the front flap.

Here's the full bag:

The bag open so you can see the lining:

And a close-up of the flap:

I made the bag in royal blue corduroy with a pale pink lining, and, because I am a rebel, free-hand embroidered the facial expressions of the characters, the lettering in the speech bubble, etc. (Plus, pre-marking anything that fine on felt is nearly impossible.)

Speaking of rebels, the next project I made was a floor length, red flannel nightgown, complete with long poofy sleeves and a ruffle. I will not be sharing pictures, because that will doom me to catlady-dom almost instantaneously. But, I put it on and immediately laughed, and then my sister told me I looked like Mrs. Claus. (Seriously though, it's ridiculously comfortable/awesome.)

Moving on!

I visited an old friend from high school who just had her first child, so I made this Christmas bib as a gift:

I used the yoke piece from my pajama pattern, altered the shape, cut two (front in the tan material, the back in extra red flannel), decorated the front and sewed it all together, adding red straps.

And lastly, I made a friend double-sided placemats and linen napkins using directions from The Long Thread:

I don't have pictures of the napkins, though one should note that 1/2 yard only gave me three adult-sized napkins, prompting a gift of four placemats and two napkins, and the promise of two napkins in the future.

Holy crow, and we didn't even get to the books!

Odd Writing Rituals (That, Alas, Don't Involve Urine)

2010-01-04T23:58:00.003-05:00

From my post today on LitDrift:

Baseball players are known to have strange pre-game rituals. Rob Murphy wore women’s underwear under his jock strap while pitching (honestly, can you think of anything less comfortable than a jock-strap-and-thong wedgie?), while Kevin Millar used to sprinkle his bats with doe pee when he was with the Florida Marlins. But as the phrase, “I’m going to write, so I’m taking the candle” left my mouth, I started wondering about the odd rituals of writers...

Read the full post here and share your odd writing rituals... (I know we all have at least one!)

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-21T19:05:00.005-05:00

In case you're wondering what it's like to be a Marchini, this pretty much sums it up:

My Uncle Tony created all of the electronics necessary to make the lights controllable by Vixen Lighting Automation software. Then my brother used Vixen to synchronize the lights with the music.

Enjoy!

---
edited: It would have been even more Marchini to have started this post with, "You know what you should do? Watch this video:"

Also, Thanksgiving spreadsheets. We all enjoy a good database.

Buying Pop Art at Barnes & Noble

2009-12-05T17:01:00.002-05:00

Today I posted on LitDrift about pop art and children's literature. I'm enclosing a sneak peek here, and you can check out the rest of the piece, Buying Pop Art at Barnes & Noble on LitDrift.

Andy Warhol was fascinated with the high and low in art, and even twenty years after his death, his Estate has managed to sell limited-edition Campbell's soup cans in Barney's for twelve dollars each. But just a few years before the debut of his first soup can screenprint, Andy Warhol illustrated a children's book, THE LITTLE RED HEN, which will be auctioned off on December 9th.

To me, nowhere is the juxtaposition of the high and low in art more apparent than in children's illustration. Though one might look at a Jackson Pollock and think (but perhaps not say), “I can splatter paint on a canvas!,” one hears people browsing the picture book section and declaring, “I could draw this!”

Rough, Sad Week

2009-12-03T21:23:00.003-05:00

It's been a rough, sad week.

My cat, who "picked me" twelve years ago by climbing into my lap at the SPCA, was diagnosed with cancer the day before Thanksgiving. Yesterday, we had to put her down.

She was the sweetest cat one could ever hope to have -- even through the end, she was licking my hand, and trying to comfort me.

I'm getting emotional writing this, so I just want to share with you one picture of her in her younger, kitten days.

She was much loved, and she'll be sorely missed.

Lit Drift's Newest Contributor

2009-11-24T10:45:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I became one of Lit Drift's newest contributors, and today my first post is up!

Those of you that have been with me for about a year** will recognize the post on why writing is like riding The Oregon Trail, but I encourage you to click on it anyway and check out Lit Drift, a group blog dedicated to the art & craft of storytelling in the 21st century.

--
**Happy Blogoversary to us! I'm glad you're still with me! :)

The Ears and Nose Feel Left Out Contest Winners

2009-11-23T17:11:00.002-05:00

Hello all! After leaving the contest open for just a bit past its deadline, I have reviewed all entries and am ready to declare a winner. (Meaning, I would still love to read your reworkings of the contest paragraph, but alas, you will be ineligible for the elephant which has been graciously provided by my coworker, Katie.)

I enjoyed everybody's entries, and thought it was interesting that the teacher in sunglasses made everybody think of a hangover. (I honestly hadn't made this connection at all!)

Some honorable mentions:

Best piece of sarcastic dialogue goes to Anonymous with "'I can practically taste your pheromones, Cass. Next time, you should wash it first.'"

Best use of the senses in an opening goes to Marilyn Peake with "Cassandra shuffled into the classroom, slumping behind a battered wooden desk, fingers blindly reading the ink-stained graffiti etchings on top, hardened bubblegum mounds beneath."

The lines that made me want to get further away from Sarah and her sweater were MitMoi's, "The long hairy fibers made Sarah itchy with their proximity. Love must make you REALLY crazy.

And now for the winners...

The Elephant will be awarded to two entries. They are two very different interpretations of the scene, but both insert sensory descriptions in a manner that feels natural.

The first is Donna Gambale of The First Novels Club! Her winning entry is below:

"Still fuzzy with sleep, Sarah slumped into the ancient wooden desk. She rubbed her finger along a broken corner, tempting a splinter. Any reason to ditch Geometry for the nurse’s office, right?

Her bangs, two weeks past haircut time, hung in her eyes as she surveyed the classroom. The shades were drawn to keep out the morning sun, but her teacher still had her sunglasses on. Someone’s hungover. She’d caught a whiff of stale beer when she first walked into the classroom, and it wasn’t the first time Ms. Reichert showed up perfumed in eau de corner bar.

Liam, who could never be trusted to sit in his assigned seat, bounced from desk to desk. The hinges squeaked each time he moved, providing a rhythm to her boredom.

Sarah's best friend and perpetual morning person, Cassandra, sat next to her. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and began chewing cow-style. She offered the pack to Sarah, who shook her head. Her mouth still tasted like black coffee, and just thinking about the bitter-mint combo induced nausea.

 "You're wearing your purple sweater again?" Sarah asked.

Cassandra nodded and started snapping her gum. Pop, pop, pop. Best friends or not, Sarah gave herself five minutes before she used her compass as a weapon.

"This is the sweater that I was wearing when Kevin said 'hello' to me in the hallway. It's his favorite."  

Sarah shook her head. She pointed to the crusty Cheez Whiz stain on the left sleeve, which she knew for a fact occurred three days before at lunch. Ick.

"Next time, consider washing it first.""

Display your elephant with pride, Donna!

Our second winner is Transitoria666, whose interpretation of the scene is much darker, but is also deftly written.

"Sarah plopped into a creaking desk that smelled of Lemon Pledge and stale cigarette smoke. Her blonde hair tickled her forehead, smearing an oil slick beneath caterpillar eyebrows. Oily strands swished in her ears as she gazed around the classroom. Drawn shades clattered against dusty window frames as the morning wind pushed them aside. They failed to keep out the morning sun that illuminated dust motes in the air, and her sunglass-wearing teacher at the front of the classroom. Mr. Kevin Anderson smelled of Jack Daniels and sex, and at eight am he was already too unsteady on his feet to teach.

Asperger’s Liam, who could never be trusted to sit in his assigned seat, patted and caressed the writing surface of each desk before bouncing to the next seeking the one that “felt” right. He muttered an assessment of each location under his breath before moving on. Although he annoyed her more than fingernails across a chalkboard, she reminded herself that he was one of the many unfortunates which populated Remedial English.

Sarah’s best friend, Cassandra, snorted a snotty nose before wiping a sleeve across her face to catch any mucous remains. The resulting green streak clashed with her sweater.

“You’re wearing your purple sweater again?” Sarah asked.

Cassandra nodded, a heavy medallion clanging against her underdeveloped chest.

“This is the sweater that I was wearing when Kevin whispered, ‘hello’ to me in the hallway. It’s his favorite.”

Sarah shook her head, her nose crinkling involuntarily as she inhaled a potent whiff that coated her tongue with a flavor reminiscent of old sweat socks and jock straps.

“Next time, you should invest in some perfume. I hear Mr. Anderson is partial to Right Guard.”"

Transitoria, your elephant awaits:

Thanks everybody for participating, and if I don't "see" you before, have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

A Picture of An Empty Box

2009-11-19T10:00:00.000-05:00

The Source of All My Bad Karma
a.k.a. The Query Box

It is terrible to be excited to have a stack of paper off the desk, but also know that that means you have just ruined a lot of people's days.

In other news, you still have time to enter The Ears and Nose Feel Left Out Descriptive Paragraph Contest by submitting your paragraph here.

Also, my coworker Katie has used her MSPaint skills to help me deliver on my promise of --- an elephant. It is amazing.

Description and the Four (Yes, I said Four) Senses

2009-11-17T08:00:00.001-05:00

In wading through the query box, one of the things I've noticed is that the sense most often used in description is sight. So you might read something like this*:

Sarah sat down at the brown desk. Her blonde hair hung in her eyes as she looked around the classroom. The shades were drawn to keep out the morning sun, but her teacher still had her sunglasses on. Liam, who could never be trusted to sit in his assigned seat, bounced from desk to desk. Sarah's best friend, Cassandra, sat next to her.

"You're wearing your purple sweater again?" Sarah asked.

Cassandra nodded.

"This is the sweater that I was wearing when Kevin said 'hello' to me in the hallway. It's his favorite."

Sarah shook her head.

"Next time, you should wash it first."

Four things are missing in this paragraph - touch, smell, taste and sound. Even though a writer may feel like they have set their scene, it still feels a bit lifeless when the other senses aren't used. Imagine writing about cherry pie without describing the taste, or writing about a landfill without describing the smell! (Mmmm, cherry pies and landfills. Breakfast awaits!)

So, if you're working on a manuscript, pull out a scene of description and rewrite it as if your character was blind. You don't actually have to blind your character, but close your eyes, put yourself in your character's place and imagine what you would smell, taste, feel and hear. Write accordingly!

And, for those of you not revising (or those of you that are revising but are also interested in earning the respect, gratitude, bloggery fame and an elephant** that comes from winning), I announce the The Ears and Nose Feel Left Out Descriptive Paragraph Contest.

To play, copy the paragraph above and rewrite it including the other four senses. Paste it in the comments box and wah-lah, your elephant awaits! Winners will be announced on Friday.

*Don't worry, I would never pull work from the query box and put it on the blog. This is my own senseless (ha!) paragraph.

**The judges reserve the right to substitute prizes for those of an equal or greater value. Elephants are hard to ship.

----
Edited: The contest is closed, but for more on the senses, check out Jenna's post on As the Plot Thickens.

Making Room for Art(s and Crafts)

2009-11-16T10:33:00.004-05:00

At the SCBWI Poughkeepsie conference a few years ago, Laurie Halse Anderson said that one of the most important things you can do as a writer is make room for art, whether you're making it yourself, or observing another artist's work.

I think many writers tend to be artists of other sorts -- crafters, painters, knitters, etc. Usually these second artistic endeavors are not on a professional level, but I think that using a different creative part of the brain has a positive effect on a writer's work. (I haven't been able to prove this myself with any sort of scientific method...)

Personally, I like to paint, knit and sew. And this year, I've decided to have a Totally Crafty Christmas, wherein all of my presents will be lovingly (and probably painstakingly) handcrafted.

Here's a list of the amazing craft and sewing blogs where I'm getting present ideas from:

Design*Sponge
Make It Do
mmmcrafts
The Long Thread

So bloggery friends, where is art in your life? And, who else is crazy enough to craft presents with me? :)

Know vs. Think

2009-11-09T14:07:00.004-05:00

My coworker and friend Sarah discusses fiction on her blog Glass Cases today:

Aside from "show, don't tell," the most overused writing maxim is arguably, "write what you know." As a former student of creative nonfiction, I took this advice quite literally. In fiction, however, those words can get a little tricky. I know fiction writers who worry that "writing what they know" might be considered cheating in some way. As if using characters, situations, or settings from one's own life makes the act of "creating" somehow illegitimate. To them I say, pshaw! Some of the greatest novels of all-time came from authors who were just writing about aspects of their own lives. Salinger's Upper West Side, Fitzgerald's Jazz Age, Didion's California... and on and on and on.

(Click here to read the rest of her post. It's quite good!)

She ends by asking what your favorite author-inspired novels are. But her post title- "What do you know?" -makes me think about things that I know versus things that I think. And to that end, what my characters know, and what they think.

Something My Character Knows:

- Mom isn't really mad at me until her forehead gets a bit veiny.

Something My Character Thinks:

- Everybody in school is cooler than me.

What's one thing your protagonist knows, and one thing they think?

Two Exciting Blog Finds

2009-11-06T15:22:00.004-05:00

The first is children's editor Gretchen Hirsch's Blog for Better Sewing, wherein she's sewing her way through Vogue's New Book For Better Sewing, printed in 1952.

The second is the pattern for this scarf since I have just learned how to do a yarn over.

Also, I am full speed ahead on my revision, and have just fifteen pages to go before I can say I have gone through the whole book. Huzzah!

Questions:
What's your most recent exciting blog find?

-and-

Are you doing NaNoWriMo?

Marathon Photos

2009-11-06T14:39:00.003-05:00

Two photos for you, since I'm pretty text-heavy these days! (Keep in mind that nobody looks fantastic after 26.2 miles! :) )

This is around mile 24, where a random stranger kindly took a photo of myself and my friend Erin, who came out to cheer me on:

And here's a picture of my dad and I proudly displaying my finisher's medal after the race:

Still can't comfortably wear any shoes narrower than my running sneakers, but that should change soon!

Two Stories Meant to Impress You With My Athletic Ability

2009-11-05T08:00:00.001-05:00

Story 1 - Which Shall Also Be Known As "The Day I Became A Sixth Grade Kickball Goddess."

There were two kickball fields on the playground -- one had actual bases painted on the cement and didn't have a random game of hopscotch running through it. This was the seventh vs. eighth grade kickball field.

Then, there was the sixth grade kickball field, which, besides the random hopscotch game, also had some greenery growing through the cracked pavement. Bases were guesstimated, and if you kicked the ball too far into left field it sailed over the fence and into the neighboring elementary school's yard, ensuring you would never get the ball back.

Sixth grade kickball was not for pansies. It was, in fact, serious. business.

Sometimes the twelve of us sixth graders would invite the fifth graders to play us, but many times we just split into two teams and played by ourselves. This ensured that my friend Karen and I would alternate being the last one picked, probably depending on our performance in gym class that day.

No matter if I was picked last or second-to-last, every time I came up to the plate I would hear, "Tracy's up!" and the outfield would come in and make a semi-circle around the pitcher's mound. I would kick the ball, it would ground to the first baseman, and I would be out. Throw. Kick. Repeat.

But on this very special day, the familiar call was sounded, the ball was rolled, and I kicked it over the pitcher's head and into the completely empty outfield. I ran! I cheered! I made it to first!

When my teammate's brought me home, my team shared a round of high-five's and "awesome's" and I basked in the glory that was my significantly improved on-base percentage.

The next time I was up, I waited for the call. But it never came. Everybody stayed in the outfield, affirming that I was, indeed, the kickball goddess that I knew I'd just become.

I stared at the pitcher. The ball was rolled. I ran a few steps and kicked it as hard as I could. It flew up into the air -- and landed in the pitcher's hands.

"OUT!"

The next turn to kick came, and with it, the sound of "Tracy's up!" and the shuffling of feet into the infield.

My kickball glory days were over.

Story 2 - Which Shall Also Be Known As "Three Days of Waddling is A Small Price to Pay For Reversing Years of Less-Than-Stellar Athletics."

Some backstory:

In addition to being the worst kickball player through my entire elementary school years, I was also kicked off the Varsity Tennis team (don't be impressed, we didn't have JV) and once was told during a co-ed college softball game that if I didn't want to be hit with the ball while I was at bat, I should stop standing on home plate.

Further backstory:

I have a bucket list, and don't believe that you have to wait until your eighty to start checking things off.

The story:

Last Sunday, I ran and finished the ING NYC Marathon!

In 2008, I ran nine qualifying races and volunteered to earn my guaranteed entry for this year. In the process, I gained two bloody socks, three days where I couldn't wear pants, two uncomfortable heat rashes on my arms and total humiliation when a girl on crutches ran past me during one of the most emotionally and physically draining four miles I'd ever run.

So, I was a bit concerned that the following would happen during the marathon:

1.) I would have to be picked up in the Sweep Van, which drove people across the finish line if they didn't feel they could make it.

Conversation with mom went as follows:
me: I will not get in the van.
mom: Well you can always walk.
me: Oh yeah, I'm sure I'll walk... the longest I've run is a half-marathon.
mom: Okay good, so you'll get in the van.
me: Absolutely not.
mom: Tracy!
::Mom frets that I will die on the course.::

2.) I would break down at mile five and have over twenty-one miles to walk.

3.) I would throw-up, get runner's diarrhea, or just keel over.

Luckily, none of these things happened, and by the time I got off the Staten Island Ferry on Sunday morning, I was more confident that I could finish. (Also, running was the only way home!)

I sat in the start village, eating a bagel and rubbing Body Glide all over my feet and anywhere else that I might chafe. Afterwards, I visited the medical tent so I could borrow some first-aid tape to write my name on the front of my shirt.

About an hour and a half later, the third cannon went off, and my wave started running across the Verrazano Bridge. It was amazing! There were runners from all over the world, and everybody had so much energy.

When we ran under bridges, everybody "whooped!" and hollered, and along the race route there were people shouting for individual runners (hence the name on the front of your shirt) and for the race in general. There were all sorts of bands and musicians along the route to keep the crowd and runners energized, including Korean drummers, bagpipers, a gospel choir, African drummers, high school marching bands and bar bands.

The first nineteen miles flew by, I couldn't believe how much energy I had. I think so much of it had to do with the energy that the crowd gave back to us though. Seriously, a big thank you to everyone who came out to support the race, and to my friends and co-workers that came out to cheer!

At mile twenty-two, I felt a sharp pain in my left leg, and I knew that if I kept trying to run on it I could end up with a serious injury. So I started to walk. I tried stretching it out alongside the course, but after trying to run on it again the pain came back, and I knew that it was my body saying "enough! enough!" So I had to walk the last four miles, though I did start running again when I saw the signs that said "200 meters left," "100 meters left," etc.

I crossed the finish line at 06:04:39, and was given my finisher's medal, an apple, a heat blanket and stood for a picture. I felt awesome.

Afterwards, I went to a celebratory dinner, where I ate something (besides the apple) that wasn't racing goo for the first time in over six hours. My legs still felt pretty good considering, though I almost fell over in the bathroom stall trying to change out of my race gear.

I spent all of Monday on the couch with hot towels on my legs, back and neck. But Tuesday I waddled my way in to work, and though I have a few bruised toes, I am grateful that these are the only injuries sustained!

In conclusion:

As Sarah said, "Take that Bucket List!"

Furthermore:

Is there another marathon in my future? ...perhaps!

Channeling my Inner Pasta

2009-10-06T20:00:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow is another meeting of The Continental Poetry Club. The prompt is blues and jazz music and though I've spent the last few hours listening to Feist, Madeline Peyroux and Melody Gardot (with some Pink Martini thrown in), the thing that came to mind was pasta.

I wanted to use pasta as a metaphor, but as I was writing, I realized that I was too far removed. Yes, from the pasta.

Luckily, Antlers is a genius:

Squirrel: I think I'm going to have to write once as if I AM pasta, and see how that works, because from the outside, it's not translating right.

Antlers: You are a noodle.

Squirrel: What type of noodle am I, do you think?

Antlers: A puffy crispy one!

Or a really hungry squirrel noodle:

But in all seriousness, I’d say farfalle.

I think she is right. Tonight, I channel my inner farfalle.

What pasta are you?

Target is Slowly Endearing Itself to Me

2009-10-01T12:37:00.002-04:00

I have to say, Target is slowly endearing itself to me. First, there is the much appreciated Target Fridays, where you can visit MoMa every Friday after 4 for free. Then, there was the Target children's tent at the Brooklyn Book Festival, wherein I got to listen to the uber-talented Mo Willems read the latest Elephant and Piggie book. (He was great!) And now, thanks to Target (and a slew of other sponsors, I'm sure)...

... you can see Jerry Stiller, a.k.a. Frank Costanza, perform Bark, George by Jules Feiffer. Also exciting is Roscoe Orman, a.k.a. Gordon from Sesame Street, reading Blueberries for Sal.

Anyway, check out The Great Children's Read for the full list of readings, signing and activities. Hope some of you can make it on Sunday!

Revisions and Meatloaf

2009-09-30T18:50:00.004-04:00

I'm about to dive into a big revision, which is exciting, and daunting at the same time. Here are the things that I worry about during a revision:

Will I make it worse?
Sometimes we'll request a manuscript, ask for revisions, get it back and the life has been sucked out of it. Or it reads like a patchwork quilt suddenly, with random chunks of material stuffed in like a ... bag of overstuffed... stuffing? (Admission: I am waiting for my meatloaf to cook. I'm starving, and my eyes are puffy. I cry like a baby when I cut onions. Moving on.)

Where do I start?
Knowing what you have to do with a book is great. Sometimes though, deleting that first sentence feels like pulling on a loose thread on a sweater. (For better or worse... and that metaphor was definitely better than the last.) Once you start pulling, you could find the entire book unraveling in your hands. Even meatloaf can't fix that.

When am I done?
I think I'm done when I know the book so well that I'm not even reading my own words anymore. Like, if you're reading the book and suddenly there's a moist, succulent meatloaf getting in the way of your protagonist, and they must use their fork-tazer to subdue it. Then I think it's definitely time to put the book aside. (God, meatloaf takes forever. I'm going to fork-tazer myself soon enough.)

How do I start?
I start by outlining the book, taking each chapter and breaking down the major events. Some people write out the scenes on index cards and rearrange them, and I used to cut up my papers in college into paragraphs and rearrange them to see if there was an order that was more logical, but the thought of rearranging three hundred index cards makes me want to vomit a little. (Props though, to those that can do it!)

What are your revision fears? And, is anybody else as ready for dinner as I am?

Booze and Spaghetti

2009-09-29T08:00:00.000-04:00

"In other countries, art and literature are left to a lot of shabby bums living in attics and feeding on booze and spaghetti, but in America the successful writer or picture-painter is indistinguishable from any other decent business man..."
-- Sinclair Lewis, in Babbitt

What do we think? Lewis is:

A.) Cautiously optimistic
B.) Spot on
C.) Obviously already forgetting his booze and spaghetti days
D.) Yearning for his booze and spaghetti days (It's like Biggie said, "Mo money, mo problems"...)
E.) Any or all of the above (This trick I learned from my Developmental Psych class.)

***

(Lastly, Notorious BIG and Sinclair Lewis in the same post = hot ticket.)

My Own PC, How I've Missed You

2009-09-28T20:49:00.003-04:00

For the past few weeks I've been computerless at home. No computer. No smartphone. Nada.

My just under 2-year-old tablet pc had started behaving funny over the summer, but I figured that updating my virus software and installing all the windows updates that I prefer to click "remind me later" on would fix the problem. But that didn't seem to change anything, and when it took over half an hour to boot the computer up, I admitted defeat and sent the computer upstate (read: passed it on to my father, who is a computer engineer.)

He came back to me with "Tracy, your computer is very sick."

But I had deadlines, so while the tablet was worked on, I was checking the library hours, working on lunch breaks and after work at the office, and at one point trekking into Harlem at the crack of dawn on a Saturday to borrow a friend's computer. (This was very awesome because I was also leaving to go out of town that afternoon. I then lost an hour because I couldn't find my phone in my bag, went home, tore through the bag, still couldn't find it and was wondering to myself "did I randomly toss my phone on the way to the bus stop? Could I possibly have done that and not remember?" when the phone rang. It was at the bottom of the bag, packed in another bag with my underwear. [I guess nowadays, all a girl really needs is her cell phone and a spare pair of underwear.])

Anyway, I'm on the old laptop while the new one undergoes more surgery. I have to admit, there were a few weekends where I actually enjoyed being computer-less. But it's the fall, and it's time to get back to work!