Halloween traditions

While living in New England means Halloween is a month-long celebration of parties and parades, haunted trails and houses, my kiddos shuddered to think the all-important trick-or-treat night could be taken out by Hurricane Sandy. 

Thankfully, the skies cleared just in time for my little vampires to take on the town. 

Unfortunately, the littlest vampire isn't going to need any pale facepaint or eye-shadowed circles. He woke up with a fever and a stomach that feels "wriggly" this morning. 

And I am the meanest mom in the world for not letting him go to school today, "the best day ever!" 

"I'd get to go in costume," he cried. "I don't want to stay here, with just you."

Ouch. 

But I feel for the kid. After all, now we're all going to have to make due with half the loot. Not that I eat the children's candy after they go to bed. Of course not. 

How do you handle the candy consumption? Do you have a post trick-or-treat feast? Or are the candies doled out piece by piece for as long as it takes to empty the bucket? 

Meddling with Medusa

Sometimes great ideas don’t pan out.

Take, for example, my 9-year-old girl’s dream to be Medusa for Halloween. (Thank you, Rick Riordan!)

We searched everywhere (by which I mean three stores, including Wal-Mart *shudder*) for a Medusa wig. Nothing.

“I don’t get it,” she lamented. “Ask anyone and about the third thing they think of is Medusa. Why aren’t there Medusa costumes?”

While I pondered that question, I also looked for alternatives. I bought a bag of 32 squishy plastic snakes and head cover that looked suspiciously like a hair net. I searched the house for a needle and thread. And then I spent about two hours sewing snakes to a hair net.

When I was done …

It looked like a bunch of plastic snakes hanging from a hair net.

My ever-polite girl looked at the end product, bit her lip and then said, “I don’t have to be Medusa.”

A trip to the costume store later, she is now a vampire.

The point is I completely stink at crafts.

Second point: Things don’t always work out the way you envision.

I’m buzzing about a new idea I have for a middle grade fantasy book. I want it to be exciting, daring, inspiring and all sorts of other “ings.” I can’t wait to get the scenes in my mind onto the page.

But once that happens, I’ve got to see if what I created paints the same image in readers’ minds. This is especially true in fantasy books, when authors need readers to abandon what they know as truth and accept a new world with different rules they’ve built from scratch.

I want to make sure that if I’m talking about Medusa, readers will see a turn-you-to-stone terrifying head of snakes. Not squishy plastic snakes stuck in a hair net.

What’s your favorite fantasy book? How does the author transport you from reality to what he or she has created?

Bad things happen

"Bad things happen to good people, disappointments are common. It’s not because God is any different. We’re different. We can’t change a lot. But we can change our response to it.”

 As a freelance journalist, I have the luxury of picking and choosing which stories to research. I was thrilled when my editor with the York Daily Record/Sunday News passed along an opportunity to interview Dr. Edward Hersh.

Dr. Hersh, who was born in the same small Pennsylvania town as me, is an author, activist, minister and counselor. He also is blind.

With help from technology and a lot of determination, Hersh accommodates his condition without letting it hold him back from his dreams.

I feel a connection with Dr. Hersh beyond just sharing the same childhood setting. Hersh’s visual acuity is 20/400, which is what a doctor originally projected would be my daughter’s acuity as well. It turns out that my girl, who is now 9, has a more mild visual impairment. It can't be corrected with glasses or surgery, but it has never held back my determined, resourceful, amazing child.

Even so, I’ll always carry that moment when I held my 4-month-old baby as a doctor told me she might never learn to read or even make out that giant E at the top of the vision chart. It seemed so devastating, so life altering.

I would’ve loved then to know Dr. Hersh and his inspiring story.

 I tell my daughter now that everyone faces challenges. Some people are even born with them. But those challenges only define us with our permission.

Dr. Hersh proves it.

 

 

Did they really say that?

Sometimes the words that pour from my children's lips take awhile to form solidly in my mind. Instead, I shake my head, wondering: "Did they really just say that?"

Here are some recent gems:

"It's tough work catching frogs all day."

"If there's a thought I shouldn't share, I haven't had it yet."

"How many peas are in peanut butter?"

"I pee like a rockstar."

"Why can't I call you 'Woman'? You are a woman. How is that rude?"

"Hurry! I need a flower and a big stick."

 

Arrr! That be a lot of action!

 

Check out this drawing, scrawled by my son on the back of a paper place mat when we went to a local pizza joint this weekend.

If you’re having trouble making out the image, it shows two pirates fighting. Their ships are on fire. The purple creature between them is an octopus. The pink streaks are blasting canons. There also is a shark fin in the right hand corner.

No shortage of action in this piece.

I have to admit, I looked at it with a bit of jealousy (and, alright, concern. No more "Pirates of the Caribbean" for this boy). I’m currently trying to map out a new manuscript. In addition to weighing if I want to stick with the middle grade genre or branch out with something new, I’m trying to conjure up a fast-paced, action-packed plot.

Maybe it won’t involve pirates on fire battling an octopus while canons blast them, but I want it to have can’t-put-down movement.

Writers, how do you keep the action flowing in your work?

Readers, what’s a book that kept you turning the pages way past bedtime?

 (Side note: My girl’s drawings usually featured rainbows and princesses. This whole pirates-on-fire thing … should I be concerned?)

 

The face of a criminal

Don’t be fooled by these innocent-looking brown eyes and sweet furry expression.

This is the face of a criminal, perpetrator of a crime so heinous and unthinkable those of us who witnessed it could only stand helplessly by, gasping and paralyzed with shock.

It happened this morning. My fourth-grade daughter put down her backpack and insulated lunch bag while we waited for the bus with neighbors.

The bus pulled up. My girl hugged me good bye. She went to pat the dog good bye.

But the dog was busy.

PEEING ON HER LUNCH BAG.

“Aaaaaah!” my girl gasped.

“Uh…” my neighbor mumbled.

“Wha?” I stuttered.

“Ha!” my 5-year-old son laughed.

“Whizz,” Jasper peed. Then he wagged his tail a few times.

“Aaaaah!” my daughter gasped again, louder this time.

The bus driver waited, mouth agape, as we shoved her thermos and sandwich into her backpack, and I picked up the drippy lunch bag with two fingers.

Jasper wagged his tail some more.

Why did he do this? Why?!

I’ll never know. But I do know that a poor character in a future book will suffer the same pee-soaked fate.

My agent, Nicole Resciniti, recently tweeted this: “Writing Tip of the Day: try to surprise the reader. Flip conventions, use misdirections, insert some plot twists. Readers luv 2 b surprised.”

In other news: Dog for sale.

 

 

 

 

All dressed up

This morning, when that invented-by-evil alarm clock pierced my dreams, I stumbled out of bed, into work-out gear and laced up my Nikes.

That was three hours ago, peeps.

Since then, I've made the kiddos breakfast, gotten one of two to the bus stop (the second goes to school in the afternoon), and ... watched HGTV.

Do you do this? Get prepped to do something you know won't be easy but is necessary, and then wimp out on the actual doing it part?

I tend to do this just before starting a new writing project. I think about the characters so much that I swear I've known them all my life. I scratch out an outline. I know where the story's going.

And then I just stare at that horribly blank Microsoft Word page.

I try to tell myself that I'm still writing in my head. But the truth is, just like hopping on the elliptical machine after a night of overindulging is tough, pounding out that first chapter is brutal. I know I'll feel better when it's done. But actually doing it takes resolve. That first chapter is going to stink. First draft chapters always do. It's going to take work, dedication and, more than anything, time to get the story in my head onto the page.

But I'm going to do it. Tomorrow.

What motivates you to get to work?

I'm getting a little boost of inspiration by being profiled here. Check it out!

Don't mess with destiny and other lessons

Small son: "Why can't I just play video games whenever I want?"
Me: "Because I want you to do things that help you learn and grow, too."
Son: "Video games teach me things."
Me: "What did Lego Star Wars teach you this morning?"
Son: "That my true destiny is to be a knight."

 

Need I say that the Wii remained turned off?

While that argument didn’t work for my kindergartener, I have to admit: We do learn a lot from videogames, movies and, of course, books.

Ramona Quimby taught me that it’s ok to make mistakes. Even if other people laugh at you.

Harry Potter taught me that being brave doesn’t mean never being scared. It means doing the right thing despite fear.

Scout Finch in “To Kill a Mockingbird” showed me the world isn’t fair and doesn’t always make sense. Her father taught me to try and fix it anyway.

“The Goonies” showed me the importance of loyalty and persistence.

And, alright, I don’t really play a lot of videogames. But Wii Fit showed me that I put too much weight on my left foot.

What have books, movies and videogames taught you?

 

 

 

Pass the popcorn!

Sharing the books I loved as a child with my own son and daughter is one of the best parts of being a parent. Just the other night, I was reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" to my 9-year-old in one room while my husband read "The Giving Tree" to our 5-year-old in the next bedroom.

Sharing our favorite movies is almost as fun. From "E.T." to "Star Wars" (the original three only, thank you very much), it's so cool seeing them getting as jazzed about a story as I once did. And when my daughter began quoting "The Princess Bride," I knew I was doing a good job as a parent.

Today, we're extended our children's cinema education with one of the greatest movies of all time. That's right. "The Goonies." Follow the link to my favorite scene, when Chunk confesses to the Fratellis.

What's your favorite movie from childhood? If you have children, do they enjoy it as much as you?

 

Very superstitious, writing's on the wall

You know not to walk under ladders, pass the path of a black cat, or go around breaking mirrors.

I went under this tree house ladder yesterday to get a soccer ball. Cross your fingers that I'll be ok! But did you know not to put a loaf of bread upside down? Bad luck! (Or so I’ve heard all my life from my mother. I haven’t had the courage to find out if it’s true.)

We all have superstitions or myths that we honor, regardless of logic or true belief. (Did you just sneeze? God bless you.) As writer’s, we even perpetuate them. Gloria Naylor (“Mama Day”) and Joyce Carol Oates (“The Corn Maiden”) use superstition beyond just fleshing out a character to establishing a culture.

In the middle-grade ms I just sent to my agent, I tried to make a character identifiable by showcasing her belief in superstitions.

Here’s an excerpt:

Grandma, I should let you know, isn’t like other grandmas. She doesn’t bake cookies; she rips open Oreos and only eats the fluff. Most of the time when I’m at her dark city apartment, she’s on her little metal balcony (which Mom calls a fire escape) smoking long skinny cigarettes. She doesn’t wear little pantsuits and aprons like most grandmas. Nope, my grandma wears long, shapeless tied-died dresses that skim the top of her thick leathery feet. She only wears flip-flops, even in the middle of winter. Her kinky curly hair is about thirty different shades of red, orange, gray and black. Her eyebrows are thicker than wooly caterpillars and her small green eyes are smudges behind her thick plastic glasses. My grandma doesn’t give me hugs; she reads my palm and tells me not to walk under ladders.

The only time Grandma ever yelled at me was when I put a loaf of bread away upside down (“Bad luck! Bad luck!”). And I had the best day of my life at Grandma’s when we spent all day throwing mugs, vases and cups against her brick fireplace so she could make a mosaic later.

 

This, I hope, shows that Grandma isn’t going to act the way the typical grandparent would be expected to during upcoming scenes.

The truth is, regardless of whether you hold stock in them, superstitions  and myth are great tools for writers. Read early on in a book that a character is scared of the dark and be sure that guy’s heading down a pitch black hallway soon.

I just finished reading “Where the Red Fern Grows” to my daughter. (We’re a sucker for sad stories.) When Billy hears a screech owl the night before the big hunting competition, he braces himself for a second hoot. Hearing two owls hoot in the same night is bad luck, he tells us readers. Sure enough, when I read that second hoot, my girl shuddered beside me. Something bad was going to happen.

After finishing the last chapter *spoiler alert,*my girl asked me if the legend was true. Are red ferns planted by angels?

I shrugged. “Maybe. Some people probably believe in it.” From the way she nodded, I have a feeling she’s among the believers.

Have you noticed an author use superstition or myth as a tool in her writing?

Which superstitions do you honor?

Back-to-school blues

 

“Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.”

-- George R.R. Martin, "A Game of Thrones"

 

Summer is winding down, and so back-to-school nerves are spinning out of control in our house.

This is a big year for us; my youngest begins kindergarten and my 9-year-old moves into the bigger intermediate school.

While my son is sure all he needs is a Star Wars backpack and a T-shirt, the essentials for my daughter are growing. After our big shopping spree for clothes, notebooks and pencils, all that was left to tackle were nerves.

"You'll be fine," I told her. "Nothing bad will happen."

She looked me square in the eyes and said, "You say that, and I know you think it makes me feel better. But I can't help but hear it the way I would if I were reading it in a book. And it would mean that something bad will happen."

Another hazard of raising a writer, I suppose!

So let's share: What's your worst back-to-school memory?

For me (don't tell my girl this), it was fourth grade. Actually, it was mid-year, when I decided I needed a makeover. I had my waist-length hair cut to my ears, a spiral perm, and new Sally Jesse Rapheal-style enormo glasses. I thought I looked amazing. The rest of the world ... not so much. And thus ushered in a year in the Land of Dorkdom. (Which, actually, ended up being the best thing ever.)

 

 

Always a hero

I’ve talked before about how my daughter is a writer. While I was cleaning my 5-year-old son’s room today, I discovered a notebook that proves he, too, is a storyteller.

While he’s just learning how to read and write, he clearly has a story going on in his head. The notebook is filled with page after page of self-portraits. How do I know he’s been drawing himself? Because he’s always wearing a cape with a capital letter “B” – the first letter of his name.

In some scenes, he’s on a boat with sharks surrounding him. In others, he’s facing a tornado or a volcano. Sometimes he’s standing on top of our house. In a few, he’s battling monsters, sword in hand. In every one, he’s smiling.

It’s hard sometimes to know what’s going on in my little guy’s impressive mind. When he’s happy, his whole face splits in a grin and his dimple flashes. And he’s happy a lot. But I also know he has worries—whether his friends can come over, if he’s good at T-ball, if he can have just one more cookie (“please, please, please, Mama!”). These he shares with me.

But this little insight into his inner dialogue thrills me.

My wonderful agent, Nicole Resciniti, once reminded me to make my protagonists the heroes of their own stories.

I hope my son never stops being the hero of his own stories.

 

This kid is tough

Photo from http://www.sawyersmartialarts.com/

When my daughter started karate at age 5, it was just for something to do. She had tried ballet and loved the costumes, but was lukewarm about the actual dancing. And, considering the actual dancing was the whole point (plus those costumes cost a whopping $100 a piece. For a 4- and 5-year-old!), I wasn’t about to push her to continue.

Then we found a fabulous tae kwon do school, Dover Dragons. Within a few years, she was showing real skills and owning a few trophies. But what really impressed me—and what made me sign up her little brother for classes as soon as he was old enough—were the more subtle changes martial arts gave her.

My girl always has been exceptionally brave. But she gathered more confidence in her own strength with each class. She learned to push herself, from a more perfect roundhouse kick (and check it out, it’s practically perfect) to something more challenging for my naturally shy girl: approaching others with eye contact and a smile.

The best part as a parent was to see the older kids in her class, how respectful and caring they were when she was a new student. How willing they were to help her. These were kids I wanted her to be around. This was the type of kid I wanted her to be. (I wrote a column about my girl overcoming her nerves during her first class with big kids after graduating from the kindergarten/preschool program here.)

When we moved from Pennsylvania last year, we quickly found another great school, this one specializing in tang soo do. She soon had another trophy for her collection, further boosting her confidence.

I guess it isn’t a surprise that martial arts found its way into my latest middle-grade manuscript. My protagonist starts karate and, from class one, learns much more than how to do a jumping jack without looking like an idiot.

Writers know the “write what you know” tenet well, but I find the best part of writing is living what I don’t know. Rash decisions, exciting relationships, crushing consequences. I’m happy to say I don’t know first-hand many of the cruel circumstances in which I place my characters.

But plenty of real life seeps into my writing, from overheard conversations to, well, karate. Writers, do your protags share some of your family’s or your passions?

 

 

Raising a writer

I love, love, love this blog post by my agency sister Kate SeRine. It goes through signs you've got a budding writer in your household.

My daughter is constantly hard at work on a novel or two. She fills notebook after notebook with enviable ideas. My favorite is "Dream Walkers," about a group of kids who realize they can walk through other people's dreams. They have to come together to take on the sinister Lord of Feeling, another dreamwalker who plans to plunge the world into a constant waking nightmare. How awesome is that!

(Honesty alert here, I was a little nervous when she brought this book to her third-grade teacher the first week of class. I was sure that a "Please see me for a conference" note would be in my girl's bookbag that afternoon. Instead, the gem of a teacher wrote my daughter a note of praise that will forever live in her treasure box.)

Just yesterday, she asked me what I was planning to write next. "If you need any ideas, let me know," she chirped. "I've got tons!"

But her sharing sometimes backfires.

Recently, my girl gave me a notebook and asked me read a story she wrote in it. I did a few things around the house and then sat down to read the story. It begins: "Dear Diary, I am so mad at Mom!" And then there's a picture of me with "blah, blah, blah" coming out of my mouth and one of her thinking "STOP."

I pointed that out to her. She flipped over the notebook and said, "Oh! One side of the notebook is my diary. The story's on the other side."

Ouch.

 

How many books crowd your nightstand?

I’ve always believed in monogamy.

And I’m not just talking about in marriage (although the love of my life and high-school sweetheart will celebrate our 11th anniversary in a couple weeks). I’m also referring to reading. One book at a time, thank you very much.

If the book (such as “Mama Day” by Gloria Naylor or “White Cat” by Holly Black) is excellent, I even allow myself a little rebound time before jumping between the pages of another novel.

But lately, I’ve been bit a cheater.

I’m about three-quarters through Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods.” Since it’s a library book, I kept it on my bedside table and tucked “Gone Girl” by Gillian Flynn in my carry on before a recent flight.

I knew I was going to fall in love with the thriller when the person on the airline seat next to me squealed and held up the same book when she saw me pull out the page turner. “I’m a little obsessed with it,” she confessed, and then continued reading it through most of our five-hour flight.

Now I’m back home, suffering a major case of jet leg not aided by staying up way too late enthralled with Flynn’s work. This author, she’s a master at plotting. My mind is utterly blown. Seriously, go buy this book. Right now. I’ll wait here.

But I can’t take the time to reassemble my mind. I’m going to jump right back into “American Gods’ ” beckoning chapters. This one’s totally worth the late fees. It’s not the frenzied, up-all-hours passion of “Gone Girl.” It’s a slow burn.

And now a third love as entered my life. Actually, I should say re-entered. And this one, it’s a sweet heartbreaker. Each night I read to my 9-year-old daughter. Last night, we started a book that has never failed to capture (and later crush) my heart, “The Bridge to Terabithia.”

“Just one more chapter?” my girl asked me. I already was turning another page. And as I read it, I find myself thinking of other literary relationships I can’t wait to reignite and share with her. “Where the Red Fern Grows” might be next.

I guess it’s official. I’m a cheater.

How about you? How many tomes crowd your nightstand?

"All you need is a good idea!"

“All you need is a good idea! Something no one has ever thought of before.”

If I had a dollar for every time my mother has offered up this advice about novel writing, I’d probably have the average advance for a debut author already in my bank account. 

“All you need is a good idea!”

About a thousand ideas flow through my head throughout the day. Every encounter, conversation and daydream can bleed into a story idea. Last night, I forgot to close our patio door, leaving just the screen guarding our home throughout the night. As soon as I saw this, I was flooded with what-could-have-happeneds.

A bear (we have a few in our neighborhood) could’ve ripped through the screen. We could’ve been attacked as we went to investigate the ruckus downstairs. Actually, just my husband would’ve investigated. I could’ve been trapped upstairs, in our bedroom. And I left the cordless phone and my cell phone downstairs. We wouldn’t have been able to call for help. How long would I be there, trapped upstairs, wondering my husband’s fate? I could put on my old sparring gear from when I was in karate and tried to take on the bear. But that would be a short story (as in, “and then she died.”) I could open a window, leap to the ground, but then my broken leg would make me easy target for said bear.  And then I’d hobble to the car, and be trapped there instead, going into septic shock from my crushed femur. And then…

Oh, wait. Maybe a human could’ve come through the door at night. Maybe a child. Maybe I’d wake up and a child would be curled up, asleep on the floor. The child is dirty and doesn’t speak. Can’t speak. She’s hungry, but doesn’t seem to understand how to use utensils and only seems to like berries and nuts. She appears to have just come from the woods. I call the police, but they can’t identify to whom the child belongs. I offer to be her foster mother. I realize after some time she is actually A FAIRY CHILD. Dun-dun-DUN!

Wait a minute. Something else could’ve come through that screen door. Something else that was hungry. FOR BRAINS.  The Zombie Apocalypse could’ve begun at my house.

See what I mean? I have absolutely no shortage of ideas. Ideas are everywhere. It’s the good idea that’s tough to find. The idea that snags my mind beyond those hazy what-could-have-happeneds to preoccupy my thoughts over days and weeks. An idea that gives birth to characters, to plots, to climatic action. An idea I can’t wait to write down, even if it takes months and or years.

Those are a bit harder to find.  

 

 

 

No light sabers at the table!

On today’s menu at the Vrabel household: Boba Fett-ucine, Obi Wan Kabobs with Dark Side Salsa and, for dessert, Wookie Cookies.

My 5-year-old flipped over “Wookie Cookies Cookbook” when he saw it at the library this week. He's a bit of a "Star Wars" fanatic, despite the fact that he's only seen the original three films and bits and pieces of the newer movies.

I was pretty sure we had checked out every single Star Wars book from the library. But who knew there also were Star Wars cookbooks? This is marketing at its best.

I don’t know what impresses him more: The recipes or the toys featured on each page. “Are these toys real? Can we get them?” he asked.

The recipes are basic, but the presentation is hilarious. My favorite is Han Solo shooting ketchup onto the Han-burgers with his blaster.

 

And now the real work begins

I finished my first draft! Woot-woot!

To celebrate, I led my children in an arms-flailing, legs kicking dance fest. (Poor children. They’ve inherited my sense of rhythm. If our family was ever tasked with clapping to the beat, none of us would clap at the same time.)

But now the real work begins. I send my fledgling out to the world. Actually, I send it to my friend Buffy, who’s also a writer. She sends me a chapter at a time of her latest work, and I do the same. We ruthlessly edit and exchange.

The ruthless bit is key. You know how everyone needs a friend with whom they can be completely honest? Beyond “You’ve got spinach in your teeth” to “Don’t ever wear those pants again. Just don’t.”? Beyond “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?” to “That’s idiotic.”? The friend you trust enough to watch your newborn so you can take a shower (let’s be real, nap)?

I’m blessed with two of these friends. I call them my sisters. (Because they are my sisters.)

Buffy and I can be totally honest about our writing in this way. She picks up on what I gloss over in a manuscript, needing to know a character’s motivation when I just needed that character to move the plot forward. She calls me out when dialogue isn’t genuine, when I’m telling and not showing, and when action is lackluster.

And when she adds a “Love it!” to the end of a paragraph, I feel like I’ve earned a prize.

After my work gets the Buffy seal of approval, I’m ready to send it to beta readers for their opinions and edits, and then, when I’m sure it’s as close to perfect as it can be, my agent.

Writers, what’s your editing process? When do you feel like your manuscript is “done” and ready to share with an agent?