The Fault In Our Stars, Or Why I Finally Read a Book About Cancer (And Am So Glad I Did.)

Bon nuit, Mes Anges! Ooh, mixing it UP! That's because for once, I am actually blogging at night. And there are few things that can make me open my computer for Things That Are Not Twitter And/Or Celebrity Gossip Related.


Britney's conservatorship is up any day now, y'all. SHE COULD BE SHAVING HER HEAD AS WE SPEAK!

But today I finished reading John Green's THE FAULT IN OUR STARS, and I wanted to talk about it, and hey, what is my blog if not a place to talk about anything that strikes my fancy? First off, let me say this: I do not read books about cancer. It's something of a rule of mine. No matter how brilliant said books may be, or how moving, I want nothing to do with them.


I SAID "brilliant" and "moving." SIT DOWN, SPARKS.

As I've talked about on the blog before, cancer killed my dad when I was 17. (Specifically, skin cancer so, for the love of Pete, kids, WEAR YOUR SUNBLOCK.) This, I think, makes cancer the Count Rugen to my Inigo Montoya.


Does this even really NEED the caption?

And as much as I'd love to slash cancer in the face and then stab it a whole bunch, it's a disease, not a person, so I can't. And when you live with cancer, have had it go off like a nuclear blast in the middle of your family, have had it steal someone you loved so very, very much, you have- I think understandably- Feelings RE: Cancer that are both strong and weird.

And I think my aversion to Books About Cancer is all tied up in those strong, weird feelings. Part of that is because when my dad died, lovely, well-meaning people gave me journals, knowing that I loved to write. And time and time again, they said, "One day, you'll write about this."


Sadly, none of the journals looked like this. Because that would've cheered me right on up, lemme tell you.

Even then, I flinched pretty hard at that. I knew what they meant, and I knew it was said with all the love in the world, but the idea of taking the experience of my dad's illness and death- something so devastating, but still weirdly joyous, something so complicated with every emotion under the sun- and then... I don't know, turning it into something for public consumption...it just wasn't something I could ever- or will ever- do.

And, I mean, my dad got sick the summer before I started high school. He died the summer before my senior year of high school. The dates were 3 years and 2 weeks apart, which is why July remains something of a cursed month for my family. If I wrote that in a book, I'm sure an editor would be all, "UM, HEAVY-HANDED WITH THE SYMBOLISM MUCH, HAWKINS?"

But that's the thing. It wasn't a book, it was my life. And unlike a book, there's no easy answer, no magical moment when I looked up and saw a rainbow and thought, "Oh yes, my dad died, and that is sad, but life goes on, and so shall I." It was, and remains, a strange, twisty thing too complicated to sort out. Would I have still become a writer if my dad were still around? is that what pushed me into this ten years down the line? I know it made me a different person, but how?

I think, too, there's that weirdly possessive attitude we get when terrible things happen to us. Like, "How dare you write a book about cancer/a car accident/a national tragedy/a random bear attack/a Surprise!Mudslide if you didn't actually EXPERIENCE those things?"


Death By Surprise!Mudslide: An Actual Thing That Happens In This Movie.

And so when I see a book about cancer that seems particularly exploitative, or manipulative or whatever, I get even more, "Grrrr, CANCER BOOKS SMASH!" about the whole thing. Anyway, that's where I'm coming from as far as Books About Cancer are concerned. A lot of the time, they strike me as kind of cynical, the way certain movies can seem "Oscar Bait-y."

But even when I heard the premise of THE FAULT IN OUR STARS, I still wanted to read it, canceriness aside, because I loved John Green's stuff, and I thought, "If ANYONE can make me read a book about f***ing CANCER and NOT make me want to throw/maim things, it is John Green."

So this week, I bought it. I read it in a day. And I'm so, so glad I did.

I think part of the reason I could do this particular book was because there was some distance for me. This wasn't about a kid dealing with a sick parent, but rather, two sick kids dealing with the truly sh*t hand fate had dealt them. And while I could go on and on about how much Augustus and Hazel touched me as characters (because they did. Seriously, I loved those kids so hard), the biggest thing that struck me was how much John Green got it. What it's really like to live with terminal illness every day.

Sure, it's an unwanted house guest, and you wish it would hurry up and GTFO every single day, but that doesn't mean there aren't beautiful things hidden away in its suitcase. It doesn't mean you don't still laugh and find joy in stuff.

That was the thing The Mama and I used to talk about with Daddy: it was like everyone thought we were living these sad, tragic lives in a House of Death or something, and yes, there were days when it was very hard to be us. But there were still jokes and memories that I wouldn't trade anything for.

(Which actually brings me to another Cancer PSA/Aside: We had a lot of people who were more wonderful than I can ever express when Daddy was sick. And we also had people who stopped coming by because it was, "too sad." Mes Anges, if someone you love is living with someone dying of cancer...how can I put this delicately? Sack the eff up. I know it might make you sad. But let me guarantee you it is making THOSE PEOPLE DEALING WITH ACTUAL CANCER IN THEIR ACTUAL HOUSE a metric buttload sadder sometimes, and they might need you. Also, it'll be good for you. See below.)


The amazing thing is, there were still way more joyful days than sad ones. And I don't mean in the schmaltzy, Sparksian ways. We didn't, like, go on magical boat rides where we put wishes into bottles or whatever it is they do in those type of Cancer Books.


"What did you wish for, my love?"
"I...I...*sniff* I wished for more time."
"Seriously? Because I wished for a pony. But, um, a CANCER KILLING PONY."
"..."

Just the regular kind of happy days. Days like when my dad, who was in a wheelchair and had very slurred speech due to an aneurysm, had to show a photo ID for something. When the clerk said, eyebrows raised, "You have a driver's license?" Daddy looked him square in the face and drawled, "Yup. Scary, isn't it?"

Days when we made fun of The Waltons, which my dad watched obsessively. Days when we were just a regular family with a sadly not that irregular thing happening to us.

All this rambling is just to say that TFiOS captured that, and still managed to get across how grossly unfair cancer is. When Steve Jobs died, I said on Twitter that when cancer has taken someone you loved, you feel like everyone it takes was someone you loved. And look, I'm sure cancer has killed some real a-holes in its day, but doesn't it ALWAYS seem like it takes the best and brightest, the most loving and amazing of us?

And to take an experience that, for me, is something I'm still sorting out and processing 15 years later, and have me, the girl who will break out in hives at the THOUGHT of Cancer Books, tap the pages a think, "Yes. This is it. This is exactly what it's like"...well, that's something.

Of course, it also helps that the book is hilarious, and I probably laughed more than I cried, and at one point actually laughed WHILE crying, which was gross, but 100% worth it.

Which is why you should all read it.

Meanwhile, I'm sure that John Green is SO PSYCHED about my endorsement.


"Why, yes, I know that my book is popular. It just spent 2 weeks at #1 on the NYT list, but...who? Who said people should read it? Rachel Hawkins? I...do not know who that is. Oh wait, is that the girl who writes Bulgarian pornography?"


Yes. Yes it is, John Green.

Until next time! XOXO!

In Which Our Heroine Finds Herself In a Compromising Position In The Cellar. Again.

Bonjour, Mes Anges!

So a few months back, the lovely YA Sisterhood had a HEROINE TOURNEY wherein people got to pick their favorite heroines from several YA books, and lo, an excellent time was had by all. What was especially lovely was how classy people kept things. I was a wee bit afraid it would turn into, "THIS GIRL IS BETTER THAN THAT GIRL BECAUSE THAT GIRL SUCKS AND HERE ARE ALL THE REASONS THAT IS SO!"

And that would've made me sad, as I am a Big Fan of Girls and all the ways in which they are awesome, and the last thing we need is more Girl-On-Girl Hate.


T-SWIZZLE, I LOVE YOU, BUT PLEASE STOP TALKING SMACK ABOUT FELLOW LADIES IN YOUR SONGS! ALSO, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD GET BETTER TASTE IN DUDES, BECAUSE DAMN. I AM CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR CHOICES.


BUT. Everyone in the Heroine Tourney was THE BESTEST, and all the entries were about CELEBRATING the various fictional girls in the tourney as opposed to bashing them as the "competition."

In all, it was a lovely experience, and I'm so glad Mah Gurl Sophie got as far as she did!

Sophie was first up against LUNA LOVEGOOD who is only my FAVORITE LADY IN ALL OF HARRY POTTER, so I thought, "Well, that's it. I shall not get past the first round."


Which I was okay with since these two? My OTP. I don't care what the books say, they TOTALLY got married, and then they opened LOVEGOOD AND LONGBOTTOM, MAGICAL DETECTIVES, and BE HONEST, YOU WOULD READ THE HELL OUTTA THAT, WOULDN'T YOU?

So to keep it from being a total slaughter, I made PROMISES. Promises that I knew J.K. Rowling COULD NOT HERSELF MAKE.


J.K. Rowling is not even the littlest bit bothered by this.

Namely, I promised to write not one, but TWO extra scenes if Sophie won her round: One scene would be Sophie/Archer, and the other would be Sophie/Cal. I am Equal Opportunity in my shamelessness.

So today, I'm VERY pleased to bring you the FIRST of those promised scenes. This is Sophie/Archer, but Cal Fangirls, do not fret! He gets his turn next week.

Because I didn't want to give away any spoilers, this is a scene that takes place during HEX HALL. I figured those two had so much time in the cellar, there must be SOME extra story in there. And lo, there was. :)

Please to enjoy! And if you want to share, please link to this post as opposed to copy/pasting. Thanks!!

"In Which Our Heroine Finds Herself In a Compromising Position in the Cellar. Again."

“Well, this is...awkward.”

I glared at Archer as I once again tried to yank my hand free from his. “ 'Hey, Mercer! Let's try on these enchanted rings! I'm sure putting pieces of magical jewelery on is nothing less than a totally stellar idea! After all,-'” I broke off to blow a hunk of hair out of my eyes, “it's never ended badly for anyone before!”

Now it was Archer's turn to scowl. “Okay, I would like the record to show that that was a truly terrible impression of me. And secondly-,'” he made an attempt at wiggling his fingers, but they stayed laced in mine- “you didn't have to put one on. There was no peer pressure happening here.”

Sighing, I braced my foot on one of the lower shelves and tried once again to untangle my fingers from Archer's. Our hands stayed fixed together, but Archer stumbled forward, practically falling on top of me. Flustered, I pushed him back with my other hand even as he grinned.

“You know, Mercer-”

“Shut up.”

“You don't know what I was going to say.”

“Something snarky that's also vaguely suggestive?”

Archer mulled that over for a bit. “Actually...yeah. Nice one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Awesome. Does your brain have other uses besides crafting the perfect comeback? Anything in there about these rings or how me might break the spell?”

Rubbing his chin with his free hand, Archer said, “Nothing in my brain, but maybe something on the papers?”

Ah, yes. The papers.

We were supposed to be doing inventory in the cellar, so both of us had clipboards listing all the magical junk down here. Mine was on the shelf nearest the cellar steps, while Archer's was wedged between two glass jars on a shelf a few feet away. I was pretty sure I'd seen something about rings on my clipboard, so I moved toward the steps.

Unfortunately, Archer chose the same moment to go for his clipboard in the totally opposite direction.

Our magically joined hands pulled us up short, and once again, we stumbled into each other.

As my cheek collided with Archer's surprisingly solid chest, I got a whiff of laundry detergent. It was the same soap I used to wash my uniforms- Mrs. Casnoff was big on us not using magic for menial stuff, so we all had to do laundry like regular people- but somehow, on him, it smelled....different. Better.

“Whoa,” Archer said, catching my shoulder to steady me. For a moment, his hand lingered there and our eyes met. Archer's were so brown they could look black, and right now, his gaze seemed especially dark.

Clearing my throat, I stepped back as far as our hands would let me and nodded toward my clipboard. “I think I saw something about rings on my list.”

He was still watching me. “Hmm?”

I knew my cheeks were red, and his hand felt very hot in mine as I lifted it, waving our clasped hands together. “Rings? The ones we need to get off right now?” I looked away, like I was studying the silver bands really intently as I added, “Not sure how your girlfriend would feel about us being joined together for all eternity.”

I felt a little jolt go through Archer's arm. “Elodie,” he said, like he'd just remembered she existed.

“That's her name,” I agreed. I held out my free hand. “About this tall? Red hair, gorgeous? Evil in human form?”

Archer shot me a wry look and batted down my hand. “Okay, okay. So we'll go for your list.”

Together, we walked over to the shelf and Archer held the clipboard while I flipped through pages, scanning the inventory. “Rings, rings, rings...Fangs, no. Necklaces, close but not quite...ooh, apparently there are some bracelets in here that will make you the owner's prisoner for life, so the next time you go on a jewelery trying-on kick, let's try to avoid those...aha! Wedding rings, Matthew and Isabella Foster, witch and warlock, early 17th century.”

I looked up at Archer. We were wearing wedding rings. The thought filled me with a weird mix of conflicting emotions. Embarrassment, for sure. Somehow, the fact that these rings were wedding bands made this whole thing more awkward. But I also felt kind of...giddy.

They are rings, you moron, I told myself. Cold little pieces of metal that belonged to other people and have absolutely nothing to do with you and Archer. Please to get a grip.

“What kind of freaks would wear wedding rings that permanently joined their hands?” I asked, trying one last time to free my left hand from his. “I mean, I get that marriage is a binding thing, but this is just stupid.”

But Archer had his eyes closed, frowning in concentration. “No, I read something about those two. They're famous for...something.”

“Maybe for being co-dependent freaks?”

Archer didn't open his eyes, but his lips quirked. “That's probably part of it, but...right!” He snapped his fingers. “They were the ones who first introduced the whole betrothal thing.”

All witches and warlocks were betrothed sometime in their teenage years. The person your family picked for you was usually based on things like complimentary powers, but you didn't necessarily have to go through with a betrothal. Or at least that's what I was hoping, seeing as how Archer was pretty sure I was betrothed to someone, and I wasn't all that sold on the idea of marrying a stranger.

“So these rings...,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Weren't their wedding rings. They were used to help the Fosters make matches.”

I glanced down at our hands, still tangled up together, fingers laced. I had no idea what to say except, “Oh.”

I thought I felt Archer's grip tighten a little. “Apparently, the rings think we would be a good match.”

The words hung there in the air, joining us as surely as the little bands of silver. Finally, Archer made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Which just goes to prove that these things have clearly broken.”

I laughed, too, both out of nervousness and relief. “Right. Apparently sitting on a shelf for three hundred years screwed up their magical matching mojo.”

Archer's fingers twitched in mine as he smiled at me. “God, can you imagine? Me and you, all...,” He waved his free hand, “coupled up?”

“Totally ridiculous,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Insane,” he added, dropping his gaze to the rings. To our hands.

“The worst idea in all of Bad Idea Town.”

Archer's shoulders lifted a little, but he didn't laugh. Neither did I.

Just when I thought the silence might actually break me, Archer kind of shook himself and said, “Anyway, now that we know what they are, they should probably be pretty easy to get off.”

He raised our hands, pulling them close to his mouth. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss my hand, and I went a little dizzy. But instead, he spoke directly to the rings, his breath warm on my knuckles. “Um...hey, little guys? While we appreciate your efforts at matchmaking, this fair lady and I have no desire to be paired up. I am grateful you picked a girl who matches me in sarcasm,so nice job on that front. And I know she appreciates you finding her an incredibly hot stud such as my- ow!”

Rubbing the spot on his chest where I'd shoved him, Archer scowled at me and continued, “Anyway, Rings, thanks but no thanks. So if you could un-stick us now, that would be great.”

There was a barely audible hiss and the silver heated up. Archer's sucked in a breath through his teeth and I winced as the rings glowed hot. And then, just like that, our hands dropped free.

Archer shook his wrist while I cradled my hand to my chest, flexing my fingers.

“Well,” he said at last, flashing me a grin. “Yet another adventure to add to our long list of Weird Things That Have Happened To Us In The Cellar.”

There was a loud click from above us as The Vandy unlocked the door, signaling the end of Cellar Duty for tonight. I grabbed my clipboard with my left hand, hoping that might erase the feeling of Archer's palm still pressed against mine.

“That was the last one,” I told him as we headed up the stairs. “After that and the thing with the gloves, and that time you killed a pixie-,”

“It was already dead!” he insisted, but I ignored him.

“I am done having adventures in the cellar. The rest of the semester is going to be adventure-free.”

We were at the top of the stairs now, pausing in the doorway. Archer turned to me. He was still grinning, but there was something different in it now. Something that made my knees feel a little watery.

“Now that would be a disappointment,” he murmured.

And with that, he was gone.

TWO MONTHS!

Bonjour, Mes Anges!

As you can probably tell from the title, we are TWO MONTHS EXACTLY from SPELL BOUND coming out in stores! I am so excited! Are YOU excited? I hope so!

And if you've been with me from the beginning, then you know January is when things tend to start firing up RE: Sophie and Co. Soon I'll have tour dates to announce, and there may be another few fun surprise here and there. And I'LL be around here a lot more often, especially now that I have turned in BOTH BOOKS THAT WERE HANGING OVER MY HEAD.


This was how that felt.

As we get closer to Release Day, I'll be talking more about the book (and hey! If you get the DEMONGLASS paperback on February 7th, you can read the first chapter! Woo hoo!)

Today, though, while we ARE getting closer, we're still a ways out, so I am going be a TEASE. Instead of talking about the book, I'm going to give you some pictures. All of these pics are saved in my "Spell Bound Inspiration Folder," and each and every one plays SOME part in the plot. Happy speculating! ;)

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time

Bonjour, mes Anges! And happy holidays! I am in Deadline Zone, which is why this blog has been kind of quiet here lately. however, I had a little free time tonight, and since I probably won't be back until my big Rachel Recaps 2011 Blog (spoiler: It'll go something like, "2011! HOW COULD YOU BE SO RAD AND SO AWFUL ALL AT THE SAME TIME? GTFO!), I thought I'd best blog NOW. And besides, I've been wanting to talk about Holiday Music foooorevvver.

First off, let me say that I am a recent convert to The Awesome of the Holidays. I mean, loved it when I was a kid, OBVS, but as I got older, I was never really one for traditional Xmas stuff. Part of that was because, after my dad passed away, the holidays felt weird for me and The Mama. So my aunt and uncle, who are awesome, decided to help us combat The Weird by taking us to Paris that first year after Daddy was gone. And then THAT became something of a tradition, so we spent several Christmases in a row overseas. I KNOW, I HAD TO SPEND CHRISTMAS IN PARIS AND SALZBURG AND LONDON PLEASE WEEP FOR ME.


Hardships, I suffered them.

But the traveling, while super-duper fun, meant that I kind of got out of the Regular Holiday Stuff. We never put up a tree because we wouldn't be there to enjoy it, and there wasn't a lot of Present Exchanging because, duh, going to Europe, GIFT ENOUGH.

And then I married The Husband, who comes from a family that is ALL ABOUT SOME CHRISTMAS. Seriously, come the day after Thanksgiving,he magically transforms into Buddy the Elf.


LOL J/K! He's always Yukon Cornelius.

We're spending our 10th Christmas as married people this year, and while it's taken me awhile, I am now FULLY ABOARD THE HOLIDAY TRAIN. And one of my favorite things about the holidays is the music.

I make a MOST excellent Holiday Playlist every year, and while it's grown to like 35 songs, I thought I'd share my 10 Favorite Holiday Songs with y'all! SO! In no particular order...


1) "Last Christmas"- Wham!

Fun Fact About Marriage: You know how when you're dating, you just want the other person to think you're awesome and you cook fancy dinners every night and you get up in the morning with make-up on and you never, ever go to the bathroom? Right, when you get married, that changes. Something flips once that ring is one your hand, and suddenly, you find yourself going OUT OF YOUR WAY to do things that slightly annoy your spouse. EXAMPLE: The Husband hates this song SO HARD. And so what did I do a few years ago? Made a mix that was NOTHING BUT COVERS OF IT. He didn't catch on until the 3rd one, and I will never forget his exasperated cry of, "RACHEL!" as he decorated the tree. Good times.


I think we can all agree this is the greatest music video of all time.

2) "Ave Maria"- The Carpenters

I guess technically this isn't a Christmas song, but I don't care. It makes it onto the playlist EVERY YEAR. Partially because, despite the whole Not Being Catholic Thing (The Mama was Baptist, my Daddy was Jewish, I decided to be Episcopalian...), any version of this song will make me Feel Feelings. But this one especially gets me because Karen Carpenter's voice is SO gorgeous and sad and resonant. Siiiiigh.



3) "River"- Joni Mitchell

As you will soon see, I have a MAJOR thing for melancholy holiday songs, and I don't think ANYTHING is more melancholy than, "I wish I had a river I could skate away on." As I recently said on Twitter, if you can listen to this song and not feel like weeping, you've never been homesick in the winter.



4) "Song For A Winter's Night"- Sarah MacLachlan

The last year before me and The Husband got married, I spent Christmas in Vermont with The Mama and the rest of my fam.

I'd wanted The Husband (then The Fiance) to come with us, but he couldn't, and because this was BEFORE we'd reached the I Will Spend An Hour Burning A CD Just To Irritate You Stage, I missed him soooooo muuuuuuch. This song always makes me think of that time, watching the snow fall and wishing he were there.



5) "All I Want For Christmas Is You"- Mariah Carey

Finally, a happy one! We won't even TALK about that horrible new version she has with The Biebs. Give me Original!Flavor Mariah every time! This song is so happy, and bouncy, and sweet, AND it always makes me think of my Favorite Christmas Movie EVER, "Love, Actually."



6) "Patrick Swayze Christmas"- MST3K

I... I really, think this one is self-explanatory.



7)"Fairytale of New York"- The Pogues

Easily my favorite Christmas song to crank up in the car. Now, admittedly, it is not, um, particularly SFW or PC (although, one of the insults the girl singer uses does not mean the same thing it means here.) Still, this song manages to be sad and funny and joyous and bitter all at the same time. And really, that's what the holidays are all about. ;-)



8)"Hard Candy Christmas"- Dolly Parton

This song isn't really that much about Christmas, but IT'S DOLLY PARTON SO I DON'T CARE. Speaking of, if you haven't seen Dolly's "Smoky Mountain Christmas" featuring a mountain man, a witch, and like a billion orphans, I FEEL VERY SORRY FOR YOU.



9) "O Come, O Come Emmanuel"- Enya

In addition to liking Christmas Songs That Make You Feel Sad, I also like Christmas Songs That Are From the Middle Ages (Or At Least Sound That Way.) Stuff like Greensleeves, The Angel Gabriel, and this. I especially like Enya's take on this song because it sounds like it should be used in a video game commercial. Seriously, listen to that and tell me you DON'T see a soldier trudging through the snow and picking up, like, a kid's doll or something.



10) "Winter Song"- Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles

Not TECHNICALLY a Christmas song, but still. So sweet, so pretty, and the video makes me happy every single time I watch it.



And there you have it! Ten of my favorites! However you spend the holidays, I hope they're filled with food and love and happy times and, yes, ALL THE VERSIONS OF LAST CHRISTMAS. ;-)


The newest addition to my Torture The Husband Playlist.


XOXO!

For Those Of You About To NaNoWriMo, I SALUTE YOU!

Oh, Mes Anges, today is an EXCITING day! For it is the day that some of you may start NANOWRIO, aka That Time In November When A Whole Bunch Of People Attempt to Write a 50K Word Novel in a Month, and Lo, It Is Awesome.

I LOVE NaNoWriMo. Like, Pink Puffy Heart Love. Love ALMOST as much as I love Jon Snow.


Oh, that Jon Snow. Always saying the sweetest things...

Now saying that, I should add that, much like Jon Snow, NaNoWriMo remains undone by moi. (Bah-dum-BUMP!)

Mostly because my deadlines for the past few years have been November 1, so I've always spent the month of Thanksgiving (and my birthday and my anniversary...)frantically FINISHING a book, not starting one.

But I love it nonetheless! There's something about the spirit of NaNoWriMo I find really appealing. People are SO EXCITED! About WRITING! And for one whole month, so many more people are learning that secret that all of us who take pen to paper or fingers to keyboards know: That writing, even when it's hard, even when it sucks, even when it HURTS LIKE SOMEONE IS PULLING YOUR SOUL TEETH is the Greatest Thing In The World.

I mean, how many people get to live in TWO WORLDS ALL THE TIME? And not wear straight jackets and only be allowed to eat with spoons?


This dude cannot be trusted with forks, OBVS.


I also love that people do NaNoWriMo for all kind of different reasons. Some of you really want to become authors, and are using this month as the time to finally, finally, FINALLY write that book you've always dreamed about. And that, my lovelies, it BAD ASS. GO FORTH!

And then some of you are already published authors, using this month as a kind of "Writing Vacation," giving yourselves permission to write that book you NEVER thought you'd write. Maybe because it's not in the genre you usually work in, maybe because the idea seems too big, too crazy, whatever. This, incidentally, is what happened to my friend Chantel. She talks about it here, and guess what? That book she wrote for NaNo 2 years ago? You can buy it HERE. (And you should, because it's SO GOOD, and I want everyone to read it so that we can fight over Team Galen vs. Team Nikolas, and talk about how we love/hate Zoi. GET ON THAT.)

This? Using NaNoWriMo as a time to go crazy and write The Impossible Book? ALSO SUPER RAD. DO IT TO IT!

Maybe some of you attempting NaNo have absolutely no interest in being published. You just want to do something fun during November, something that will give you a good excuse to hide from obnoxious relatives on Thanksgiving.


"Eff OFF, Nana, I'm writing my NOVEL!"

You wanna play around with words, with ideas, with stories, and do so at a time when thousands of other people are doing the same thing. Guess what, you guys? THAT IS AMAZEBALLS! GO GO GO!

And then, of course, there are those of you who are like, "NaNo is dumb, and in no way fits the way I write. 50K words in a month would kill me dead, and all my words would be crap." And to that I say...wait for it... AWESOME! No, really! Because knowing what does and doesn't work for you as a writer is an important part of the process. And NaNo is supposed to be FUN. If it won't work for you, DON'T DO IT! And don't let anyone make you feel bad about that! Just don't poop on everyone else's fun, either, okay? Because when you're all excited about doing something, nothing makes you feel worse than having someone go, "Oh, that? It is Made of Stupid and you are Doomed to Fail."

So now that we have established that Whatever You Choose To Do During NaNoWriMo (Even If It Is Not To Do NaNoWriMo) is Super Mega Ultra Valid, let's get on to some of the finer points.

1) RACHEL! I have heard that you cannot write a good novel in one month? So, forsooth, whateth be the point?

Okay, first of all, stop yelling at me. Secondly, when a writer uses the collective "you" to talk about any part of writing or publishing, what they should really write is "I." So when someone says, "You cannot write a good book in a month," they mean, "I cannot write a good book in one month." Which is fair enough! It all depends on what kind of writer you are, what kind of book you're writing, etc. I tend to draft relatively fast because my books are more plotty and dialogue-y, and that goes more quickly. But I totally believe a good book CAN be written in a month.

2) RACHEL! This is excellent! I cannot wait to start querying agents with my 50K word draft on December 1!

I said stop yelling! And as The Husband would say, "SLOW DOWN, BUCKWHEAT ZYDECO." (I don't know why he says this, BTW. He just does. He often refers to Small Son as "Buckwheat," too, but Small Son, in his Small Son way, has misunderstood this to be "Butt Wink," and he now calls people this and gets in trouble because that is both a nonsensical AND horribly graphic insult. I digress.)

First off, most novels are longer than 50K. 50K is really closer to novella size. Yes, there are some YA books that length, and lots of MG books come in around 50K, but still. It is SHORT. For example, HEX HALL is around 63K, DEMONGLASS is like 66K, and SPELL BOUND came in near 70K. The standard length for adult novels is close to 100K.

Also, THINK about how many people dash their books out on December 1! Do you want to be part of that wave, inundating agents with books that the agents KNOW ARE NANOWRIMO BOOKS? Or do you want to spend Christmas editing your 50K words under the tree, knowing that in January or February, you'll have a much shinier, tighter, LONGER book to send out into the world?


"YES, Nana, I am STILL WORKING ON MY NOVEL! Jeez! And bring me some cocoa!"

3) RACHEL! I have done NaNoWriMo before, but when I get to around 20-30K, the book suddenly gets REALLY HARD. This means I should quit because my idea is bad, right?

Mes Anges, let me tell you something. That 20-30K stretch? It is hard FOR EVERYONE. Seriously. I'm working on my 5th book right now (FIFTH! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!), and I'm there, and it is only the knowledge that I have pulled four other books out of this stage that keeps me going. Otherwise, I would listen to that voice in my head that tells me, "HOLY SHIZZ, YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO WRITE A BOOK." I hear that voice every. time, Mes Anges. You'll hear it every time, too. Soldier on!

4) RACHEL! What if I don't get to 50K words, and lo, am marked as a FAILURE?

Did you try? Did you get words onto paper, and spend several consecutive days working on one idea? Then you know what? You've already done what SO MANY PEOPLE have not. Do you know how many people talk about writing a book, but never actually WRITE? So many! But you made an attempt! you put butt in chair, and hands on keyboard or pen or iPad or whatever, and WORDS ON PAPER. You win, my friend!

So, for those of you doing NaNoWriMo this year, I hope you kick ass! I hope you write books so good that I stay up at night worrying about them. I hope you have fun. I hope you get a peek into why this is the best job in the world. I hope you don't let anyone tell you you can't do it. I hope you dance. No, wait, that's that lame country song, isn't it? Yeah, I don't hope you dance.


Shut yer face, Womack! I will dance when and if I see fit, damn it!


And without getting sappy or earnest (two things I am allergic to), know that I believe you can do it, that I love you for trying. Or for not trying! I AM VERY FREE WITH MY LOVE!


But not in the, shall we say, Amber Way.

NOW GO WRITE ME SOME BOOKS! XOXO!

Happy Halloween!

Huzzah! It's Candy and Costume Day! I'm sure the kids at Hecate Hall are putting the finishing touches on their outfits for the annual All Hallows Eve Ball.


I hear Sophie's peacock dress actually started a trend in ballgowns at Hex Hall!


Next year, once y'all have read SPELL BOUND, I MIGHT have a short All Hallows Eve Ball story to put up. ;-)

But that's for NEXT year. This year, here's a spooky story I wrote LAST Halloween. It's a little different from my usual stuff (no kissing! No jokes!), but it's set in the Hex Hall universe, and now that you've read DEMONGLASS, maybe you can see how it's kind of connected to Sophie and Co.! Please to enjoy! And HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


ALSO please to enjoy the MOST TERRIFYING PART of my favorite Halloween cartoon, Garfield's Halloween Adventure. PIRATE GHOSTS GAH!!

Now He Is Six

Today is Small Son's birthday! It is so hard to believe that six- SIX!!- years ago today, that he came into our lives and changed us forever. Last night, I was telling him my favorite memory of that day. Right after he was born, after he'd been cleaned up, and wrapped up, they handed him to me. He was crying and red and pissed off, as newborn babies usually are. As I held him, I looked at him, and said, "There you are, [Small Son!]" And he immediately turned to the sound of my voice, like he was thinking, "Hey! I KNOW that person!" His tiny eyes looked into mine, and man, that was it. I knew that I'd never love anyone as fiercely, as all-consumingly as I did this little dude.

But one of the coolest things about watching him grow is how that love has changed over the years. He's still my baby (or my Beh-Beh, as I call him), but now, I don't just love him because he's mine. I love him for the loving, funny, frustrating, weird, totally unique person he is.

I still see traces of me and The Husband in him, but there are new parts emerging now, quirks of his personality that are all his. He's had an adventurous spirit ever since he was very little. When he was three, we drove from Alabama to Maine. At one stop, we had to get up at 4:30 AM to get on the road. The Husband and I were blurry eyed and half asleep as we got in the car, but Small Son hopped up into his car seat, grinned, and yelled, "LET'S DO THIS!"

He is fearless about so many scary things (the ocean, airplanes, heights), but still timid when faced with crowds, or people he doesn't know. When he's mad at you, he tells you that he is, "not in your heart right now!" He is hilariously funny, both intentionally and unintentionally. For example, I was bemoaning the lack of a parking space last week, and from the backseat, complete with a world weary sigh, comes, "Welcome to my life." He will do anything for a laugh, including a routine as "Robot Justin Beaver (his term for Justin Bieber)that literally made me cry, it was so funny.

When he's excited, he hugs SO HARD that he grits his teeth and shakes. It's like he's having a Love Seizure, and it cracks me up every time. He feels things very deeply, which makes me wish I could put bubble wrap around his heart.

He loves music, and stories, and the water, and every night, he asks us what our favorite part of the day is. And even though we always tell him it was some event, or some activity, the truth is, he's my favorite part of the day. Every day.

Happy Birthday, Small Son!