In Which a First Chapter Contest brings a new addition to our family... And Who Knew Flusher Instructions were Necessary?

Howdy.

I went to the LDS Storymakers conference last weekend. (Okay, I missed the second day of the conference, something that came back to bite me in the bum). 

1. The night before the conference, I got to meet a couple of blog readers in person- Susan from Arizona and Robin from Idaho (She's the one who made me the diet coke spreadsheet).

 

Susan and Robin

It's hard to see them behind our giant appetizers. Apparently we ordered deep fried bagels.

2. The next day, we rushed to Provo and made it just in time for Bree Despain's class on "Delving into the Paranormal." She did a great job, despite the rowdy group of hecklers on the front row. (Okay, that was us.)

3. Soccer games and tennis matches kept me from the conference on Saturday, but around 1:30 I got a bunch of texts and calls saying I'd won the grand prize for the first chapter contest. A new laptop!

They announced it in the giant ballroom at lunch time, and they're all, "The winner is... Brodi Ashton!"

Then they looked out into the audience, searching.

"Brodi Ashton?... Um, is Brodi here?"

Thankfully Valynne (#4 Crazy) stepped up to accept the prize. It worked out great, because we look so much alike. She's like my brother from another mother.

My Twin, Valynne

They started snapping pictures of Valynne with the laptop, and she's all, "But, I'm not Brodi."

To which they replied, "Then why are you trying to steal his computer? Why do you hate this 'Brodi' person? What did he ever do to you?"

But Valynne's a bouncer, so she just threw a few elbows and dashed out of there.

I have to say, I'm so excited about my new little computer. Look how small he looks next to Little Red (whom I have subsequently named "Big Red"):

I named him Snoop and I can't wait to tote him around. The only problem is, I have man-hands, so when I type on it I feel like Chris Farley's "fat guy in a little coat" bit.

4. Aside from little Snoop, the highlight of the weekend was the restroom. 

The flusher came with instructions. Up for #1. Down for #2. 

So apparently the toilet's all, "I gotta be honest with you. If it's #1, I'm not gonna give you 100%. I'm gonna swirl around a couple times, at the most. I'll mix it up. But that's it."

I've got a week of decisions ahead. What are y'all up to?

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Final SCBWI lessons, and a very Unique Threesome

Good Morrow Yon Bloggerland...

I am currently in Colorado, resting comfortably at 8,700 feet elevation.

The above sentence could also be typed this way:

After 8 interminable hours on a winding road upward - during which carsick Kid-B puked from Heavens all the way to Mergatroid - we arrived somewhere near outer space, where the air is not only thin, it's dangerously anorexic, and when you have asthma, and you're just getting over a cold, elevation is about as pleasant as a knee to the groin.

Kid C, me (suffocating to death) and Kid B

But Colorado is beautiful this time of year. Sort of like Utah. Only further away.

I jest. I'm really having fun. I have Wine-Frye. (Wi-Fi, to those of you new to the blog). The master bedroom doesn't have a king-size bed, but that's only because it has to make room for the hot tub.

What's that you say? Silly Brodi, she means a Jacuzzi, or a rather large bathtub. Because no normal-sized condo has a hot tub inside the bedroom.

No, no. You heard me right. I mean a full-sized, special sturdy deck, bad prom date, hot tub.

Voila. (Which, in English, means "Holy Moly that's a big Hot Tub."

It has the effect of making our bedroom feel sorta like an indoor swimming pool. At one point, during the night, I tried to "turn it off" and succeeded only in firing up the jets at full speed.

Sam informed me one doesn't really "turn off" a hot tub.

So we are lulled to sleep by the gentle purrs of the world's largest outdoor hot tub that can still, magically, fit indoors. The three of us sleep quite comfortably together. Me, Sam and the Hot Tub. Although I have had to get after the hot tub for stealing the covers.

Leaving the Universe’s strangest ménage a trios, and continuing on with the list of stuff I learned at the SCBWIBCSIWC Conference:

Where were we? #6 maybe?

6. I should really grow a pair.

If you ever want to get introduced to someone, but you are too afraid, you need a friend like Emily Wing Smith. She has mastered the art of the "sidle", where she mingles and mozies her way toward the target. Everyone who was on the receiving end of one of her "sidles" was always so darn happy to meet her.

Without her "sidle", we never would have met many of the cool people, like Richard Peck, Sherman Alexie, Jay Asher and countless others.

(Me, Richard Peck, Bree)

(Emily, Jay Asher, Bree)

Bree and I tried to "sidle" on our own once - to a semi-famous author - and we asked if we could get a picture. He acted like we had dared him to chug a mug of cat vomit. Seriously.

The ultimate was when the hotel closed down the courtyard and film crews took over to shoot a scene from the television show “Lie to Me”.

They had bouncers at every door, and signs instructing the loser touristas to stay away.

But, you see, Emily wanted to be an extra. She’s wanted it for a long time.

So, that little sidler just walked right past all the signs, found the nearest person with headphones, and asked him where the background actors should report.

It's hard to see, but Emily's dressed all in black,
obviously past security's first line of defense.

She made it quite far, and when all else failed, she offered to get a sound guy a sandwich.

Serious cajones, that inappropriate little sidler.

7. Black shorts are not appropriate attire for a Ball.

In the spirit of the notorious “prom pants” event, I tried to get away with wearing black shorts to the “Blue Moon Ball”.

To be fair, I had a fear of being the only one at the Ball who wasn’t asked to dance, so I wanted to wear something I felt comfortable in.

Black shorts. And even worse, no blue.

But Emily and Bree wouldn’t allow it. They said, “What if you get asked to dance the Virginia Reel, and you lack the flowing skirts?” (Okay, they didn’t really say that. I was the only one who was naïve enough to think there would be a Virginia Reel.)

Virginia Reel

In the end, I borrowed an outfit from Emily.

Scarlett O'Hara wore black to her ball. Nobody gave her crap. And btw, when there are 800 women, and 100 men at a conference, the ball is not bound to look like this:

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One of Many Embarrasing Moments at SCBWI, and a pic of me with Sherman Alexie

Wearing our Bad Reviews on our Shirts...

Here's the pic I wanted to show yesterday of the gals with Sherman Alexie:

(Bree, Sherman Alexie, Emily, me)

We had matching shirts made for the conference (I know, we're geeks) and on the shirts we had printed some of the bad reviews our books had gotten.

Emily's: "Inappropriate"
Bree's: "Blasphemous"
Mine: "Violent"

Sherman Alexie loved our shirts. So next year, I'm making a tee-shirt that says, "Sherman Alexie loved my shirt last year."

On to the Belly Boobs
This is the last time I tease a post like that. You just can't promise readers the glory of "belly boobs" and then think that it's possible to live up to such expectations.

So let me just say, here and now, the two words "belly" and "boobs" are by themselves more interesting than the actual story.

On with the countdown of things I learned at the SCBWI Conference: (Or "countup" is more accurate)

5. There's never really an appropriate time to shout "belly boobs" in public.

Saturday night of the conference was the Blue Moon Ball in the courtyard of the hotel.

(Sydney Salter, Matt Kirby, me, Bree, Emily at the Ball)

There was a shortage of elevators in the hotel, and so the wait to get one was always long, and once it arrived, it may or may not be too full.

Bree and I were waiting for an elevator to take us down to the Ball, and I was explaining to her why I couldn't possibly get away with not wearing a bra.

Below is my recap, in extra slow motion so you can benefit from the timing of it all.

*Brodi and Bree, waiting to see which of the four elevators will ding*

me: "I really can't go anywhere without a bra." (Okay, this was not actually the first thing out of my mouth. I promise it was a continuation of the conversation.)

Bree: "Why not?" *Elevator Dings*

me: "Because I end up looking like Kathy Lee Gifford." *Arrow Lights Up*
*It happens to be the elevator in front of Brodi, and toward which she is now facing, two feet away*

Bree: "What's wrong with looking like Kathy Lee Gifford?"

me: "Seriously? I have two words for you." *Doors Open to a packed elevator car, all of whom are staring at Brodi, who is also staring back*

me: "Belly Boobs!"

Awkward silence as we all just stand there, looking at each other. Bree and I can't fit on, and she's across the room anyway, so it's just me still staring. Doors close.

Bree starts laughing hysterically.

me (turning reluctantly to Bree): "Did I really just shout 'belly boobs' to an elevator full of people?"

Bree: nods, still laughing.

So, their doors opened, and there was this girl, just waiting to say 'belly boobs'. Almost like it was some sort of password to get on the elevator or something.

And why is it that people in an elevator have absolutely no sense of humor? The inside of a packed elevator is more somber than a freakin' funeral home. Nobody even cracked a smile. It was like I had said 'belly boobs' and everyone inside the car was thinking, ah, belly boobs. Yes. Interesting point.

Okay, that was my story. I challenge you to try this in your own hotels, and see if anyone on the elevator has the stones to say something back.

I'll have more from the conference next week. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Back to normal. Because I've discovered something about myself- I simply cannot blog back to back days. I'm all tapped out. The brain fluids need a chance to regroup, and pool.

I'm also off to Colorado tomorrow, and hopefully the place has Wine Frye.

Anyone else doing anything fun this weekend?

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SCBWI Gems, Lessons, and Stars, and the Sexiest Elevator Voice Ever

Okay, Okay. I know. It's Thursday. I blogged on Tuesday and now I'm blogging on Thursday. There is such a thing as a Tesseract.

To be fair... Sam started it. He blogged on Saturday one day late. And that's when the black hole in the Space-Time Continuum imploded.

I should've just waited until Wednesday, but then... wait. Why am I delving into the particulars of blog schedule? I feel like a Jane Austen character, where the socially awkward aunt doesn't know what to do with a letter she received on a Thursday, because she usually receives letters on a Tuesday, and she bores the bejeebers out of everyone she encounters, etc. etc. etc.

This is really not the best way to impress our new readers, if there are any after the conference. And what's with the use of "etc."? That's just an abbreviation for boring.

Where was I? Oh yeah. I don't know.

WHAT I LEARNED AT SCBWI CONFERENCE IN L.A.

1. SCBWI stands for Society of Childrens' Book Writers and Illustrators.
Not "Conference for Writers who Want to Write Good Stuff for the Chicklins."

2. Sometimes Water on the Brain can be a Beautiful Thing

Sherman Alexie (Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian) opened the conference with an inspiring, amazing, totally kick-butt speech.










He was born with hydrocephaly (water on the brain) and he grew 42 teeth (32 is normal). He spoke with both a stutter and a lisp.

All I have to say is: where is some of that magic rez water, and how can I inject it into my sons' brains? Because it'd be worth it if the result is a Sherman Alexie-like brilliance.

Little Tidbit: He had to get the extra teeth pulled, but the Indian Health Service funded dental work one day a year. So he had to have all ten extra teeth pulled in one day.



Gem: (About Young Adult Literature) "Our books will change lives in a way an adult book can not."















(He liked my name. He signed my book: "Brodi, Superhero Name! Sherman Alexie")

3. Everything sounds better coming out of Richard Peck's mouth.

Richard Peck comes from another time and place (still writes his book on a typewriter, not sure of the place. Somewhere in the Midwest?).








During his keynote address, I wanted to charge the stage just to capture every word that came out of his mouth. Then I wanted to gather all the words, take them down to the local tanner, and have them bronzed. But I wasn't sure if that would put my suitcase over the weight limit.

Mr. Peck expressed a scathing indictment for things like Twitter, Facebook, and other such lame-o wastes of time. So for an entire day, I didn't Twitter.

Gem: "Schools can either teach the students, or fear the parents. They can't do both."

Thank you, Richard.













(Richard Peck and Sherman Alexie signing autographs)

4. Even the word "Lobby" can sound sexy.

At our hotel (the Hyatt Regency in Beverly Hills) everything is sorta posh. Especially the elevator narrator. You know, the female voice that announces which floor you are on.

And the way she said the word "Lobby", it made me feel like we were about to step off the elevator and onto some lounge floor, where the lights are dim, a disco ball may be present, and people may or may not be dressed.

Like: "Laaaahhhhhhbby". Seriously, I blushed. I even felt a little dirty. Like I had been phoning a 1-900 number, and now I had to pay the bill.

I will continue with all the things I learned tomorrow, but here's a teaser:

5. There is really no appropriate time to shout the words "Belly Boobs", but it's especially inappropriate here...

I am dedicating the post to Una, who, along with many others, was most affected by the wormhole created when I blogged on a Tuesday.

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Contest Winners Announced, and SCBWI in L.A. by the Numbers

Howdy, y’all. I’ve missed you. Each and every one of you.

Okay, so Sam was in charge of my blog while I was gone, and here’s what was accomplished:

1 blog, a day late
No book winners announced

Thank you, Sam, for your tireless efforts on behalf of my dedicated readership. And for forcing me to post on a Tuesday, when no one will be expecting it.

On to the stuff we’ve all been waiting for. Since we are so late in announcing the winners, and since I have a renewed passion for buying books, Smokey the Cat has magnanimously chosen three winners:

Paradox
Mrs. Foltz
Cari from KS

Please email me at brosam (at) gmail (dot) com and let me know the book of your choosing (preferably YA) and your mailing address.

And that's not all. One bonus winner, chosen by me, for the cutest answers to the questions:

Hannah from SLC

Please also email me with a book of your choosing.

On to the blog post! I'll have pictures and stories later, but for now...

LA CONFERENCE BY THE NUMBERS

Number of times we were paged over the airport loudspeaker to ‘please board the flight, so we can take off. This is your last chance’: several

Number of times we heard the announcement: 1

Number of eardrums that nearly burst in-flight: 1

Number of times I complained about said eardrum: 978

Number of times I followed complaining with the phrase ‘I don’t usually complain’: 978

Number of times I threatened to stab my ears while simultaneously shouting ‘Make it stop!’: 2 or 3

Number of times I tried to get away with wearing shorts to the formal ‘Blue Moon Ball’: 3

Number of times I danced in the center of the dance circle: Um… 1

Year of the dance moves I pulled: 1992 (The Funky Chicken)

Number of times I was invited back to the center of the dance circle: 0

Number of times I was asked if I knew Stephenie Meyer: 1 (Really!)

Number of famous authors we ‘sidled’ up to, who turned out to be incredibly nice: 3

Number of authors we sidled up to, who turned out to be butt-munches: 1

Preferable number of sidling cohorts when one is about to sidle: 2 (They’re like sidling wing-men)

Number of television shows filming in the hotel courtyard on our last day: 1

Number of times Emily Wing Smith tried to become an extra on the show: 2

Number of times she impressed me with her boldness and audacity: countless

Number of times she nearly lost an eye: 1

Number of times Bree Despain’s book was mentioned in front of the thousands in the general assembly: 1

Number of times she blushed: 784

Number of times she nearly lost her sense of humor permanently due to hypoglycemia: 1

Number of times I was inspired by Sherman Alexie and Richard Peck: countless

Number of times I wanted to tweet about it: countless

Number of times I didn’t actually tweet about it, for fear Richard Peck would be disappointed in my use of Twitter: countless

How was everyone else's weekend? Anything extraordinary? Does this feel a little weird, being a Tuesday and such?

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In Which Brodi's Book is Drawn and Quartered

*knock knock* Housekeeping
Remember to follow me on Twitter, or link to me, by the end of the week to get entered into a drawing for free books. Thanks to all y'all who've already entered.

We are closing in on the procreating bunnies. My spies say they are nervous, which doesn't necessarily help their cause. 2,000,000 followers, here we come!

My attempt to introduce non-black clothes into my wardrobe status:
After one week, the experiment is a success! As the below picture of the weekly laundry clearly shows.

Do you see it?

CONFERENCE REPORT or MY PUBLIC FLOGGING
So, you remember I'm at the BYU Writing for Young People Conference all week. Well, yesterday, it was my turn for my fellow conference goers to critique my work. (First twenty pages of a new project).

Even though critique sessions are necessary for a better novel, and even though I know my work is far from perfect, I still hate public scrutiny. Remember this post?

The comments started out nice (that's the rule- the first half must be all positive). And then they delved into the harsher stuff, and I was pretty intrigued by the consensus (and by "consensus" I mean 100% of the students agree):

THE PROBLEM WITH MY BOOK...
My fellow writers expected my book to have... a plot. A direction. A purpose.

Not only that, as readers, they wanted to be informed of the plot, direction, purpose.

What is this post-modern world coming to, when readers cannot simply absorb the mind of the author? Aren't we underestimating them? If I had my way for my next book, I wouldn't put any words on paper. I'd just tell the kids, "The main character's name is Sydney, and she's sixteen. Her parents are dead, of course, because this is YA. Now...close your eyes... and... visualize." Pause. "So, you tell me what happened."

The "plot" debate was quite passionate, and eventually it reached the point every critique session reaches: the instructor asked me (more or less), "Would you like to continue with the verbal part of the critique, or would you prefer the thumbscrews?" For those who need visuals:


When I couldn't make a decision fast enough (seriously, I know it seems cut and dry, but thumbscrews are painful!) they got together and said, "Let's just take her out back and hit her over the head with a shovel." I was relieved we found a middle ground.

This is my first writer's conference, and now I understand why we had to sign the "Death or Dismemberment" waiver.

But I got to have lunch with James Dashner, so that made me feel a little bit better... At least about his writing ability. James Dashner always has a plot, because that's how James Dashner rolls.

I have to admit, my fellow writers were correct. Books must have plots. It should probably be a general rule. Somebody write that down.

And my workshop leader - the extraordinary author Martine Leavitt - left me pages of thoughtful handwritten notes about my book. And on one little corner of those notes, one little positive sentence of hers was enough to keep me plugging along. I slept with it under my pillow. When I woke up, it had turned to pixie dust. But I could fly. (I'm in a fantasy workshop, btw. It shows, right?)

Favorite quote of the day: "Write a little bit every day and don't give up for 10 years. If at the end, you are not published, put that book away and start a new one."

Um... anyone have a pair of thumb screws lying around? Anyone?

btw- everyone in my critique group was truly very nice. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to exaggerate, especially when it comes to criticism of my person.

ADDED: The book was not the one currently on submission. It's a brand new one.

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Let's Make Like Bunnies... and Tons of Free Books

Random Smell status: Something smells in my basement. Status and origin unknown.

Wanna read a free first chapter of an upcoming YA book? Writer sister Bree Despain has been given permission to share the first chapter of her book The Dark Divine (Due on shelves Dec. 09). Check it out.

I'm going to the BYU Writing Conference all week this week.

Best things about going to a conference:
1. No Kids.
2. Did I mention, no kids?
3. No Errands.
4. Hangin' with writer peeps.

Worst things about going to conference:
1. It's at BYU, so no caffeine available. (Yes, I'm still on the wagon, but I prefer to have caffeine in the general vicinity, watching over me.)
2. It's hard enough having friends and family trash my work. But complete strangers? I'm not looking forward to that part.

HELP ME FIGHT THE MAN
So we all know the economy resembles a big pile of cow dung right now, and the publishing industry is no different. Lots of people are saying it's the wrong year to submit a novel to a publisher. To these people, I boldly say, "Oh crap. You're probably right. I suck."

So here's my plan in three small steps:
1. Spread the word about my blog.
2. Those new readers will tell two new people, and then they'll tell two people, and the viewership will multiply like glandular little bunnies.
3. We will arm all of the new followers, and take the publishing industry by force.

Okay, so I was kidding about number 3. But my point is, if it was hard to get a book published before our current econo-slime, it's next to impossible now. So if my name can spread like the Swine Flu, it will increase my chances. They call this "buzz". All I ask is that you don't wash your hands. (Did I take the metaphor too far?)

For those of you who love visual aids, I have made this representational graph, taking into account the "word-of-mouth" speed of my blog readers vs. the mating habits of bunnies. I'm not sure if I got the math right, so someone please check the numbers.


moar funny pictures

Is shooting for 2 million followers in one week delusional? Excellent. I've learned the best way to make friends is by bribing (my mom did it for me during my elementary school years) so I'm going for the same approach to gain this elusive "buzz".

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER, WIN A BOOK
First up, since I am being forcefully immersed in the Twitter-verse, I invite you all to take the trip with me. Everyone who follows me on Twitter by the end of this week will be entered into a drawing to win one of three autographed books.

1. WINGS by Aprilynne Pike (Currently #1 on NYT Bestseller list)




2. THIS IS WHAT I DID by Ann Dee Ellis (A YALSA Best Book for Young Adults)






3. MISS MATCH by Wendy Toliver





LINK TO ME, WIN A BOOK
Next, if you link to me on a blog, or web page by the end of this week, you are entered into another drawing. Just email me the link where the link is located (does that make sense?) and you're entered. email: brosam (at) gmail (dot) com.

Please, get your friends, and friends of friends, and pet bunnies, in on the contest.

1. SWEETHEARTS by Sara Zarr (A National Book Award Finalist)





2. THE WAY HE LIVED by Emily Wing Smith (Starred Review Publisher's Weekly)





3. Another autographed copy of WINGS by Aprilynne Pike






Anyone else have any ideas? Any marketing/publicity gurus out there?

I shall report on the conference, especially any violence that ensues as a result of gumby-heads talkin' smack about my book. (They call this "constructive criticism." Yeah, right.)

Anyone doing anything fun this week?

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