Showing posts with label emily wing smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emily wing smith. Show all posts

NYC Part #2: Where Emily looks crazy on a subway, and Bree runs off with a banana

Hey y'all.


Today, we're heading to Venice Beach. I've never been there, but I hear it's where Muscle Beach is. This is very exciting.


But on to the rundown of my New York trip!


We conquered Broadway, with viewings of Jersey Boys and Wicked.


Emily Wing Smith, Bree Despain and me.


We ate lots of awesome food.
Here we are at Katz's Delicatessen, home of that famous scene from When Harry Met Sally. You know... the one where Sally does the... thing... and that woman says, "I'll have what she's having." Which was a pastrami sandwich. 


Our hotel was near Times Square, so we were there a lot. Below, you can see we asked Stevie Wonder to take our picture. 


iPhone cameras are hard to work.


Bree and I went to the Harry Potter exhibit. We must've gone at a slow time, because we were the only ones in line. I think they were expecting more people to come, because we had to stand in line a long time waiting for them to let us in to the exhibit.
Here's Bree, standing in line. That's how she looks when she's waiting. She struck that pose the entire time.
But no one else came. So they finally let the two of us into this large room with a stage. On the stage was a guy with a fake British accent, standing next to a chair with a hat. The guy and his accent were all, "Who in the audience would like to be sorted by the sorting hat?"


Bree and I looked at each other. We were the only ones in the "audience".


Guy: "Any volunteers?"


us: "..."


Because, when you only have two people, do they really need to be sorted?


Eventually we both took our turns with the sorting hat. We ended up in Gryffindor. We must've been stout of heart.


Emily Wing Smith did a fantastic job at her reading. 


She had to practice on the Subway ride to make sure it timed out right. 
Here's Emily reading out loud. Just for fun, Bree and I took turns acting like she was crazy, and then slowly moving away. 
In between the readings, David Levithan would stand up and read from an educational sex magazine.
David Levithan, describing how boys and girls have different parts. 
That is not a joke. He really did read from the sex magazine.. Somehow, it fit the evening events, but now that I'm telling about it, I can't make it make sense.


I also got to meet with my awesome editor Kristin Daly Rens, as well as Emily from HarperCollins marketing and Allison from publicity. I presented them with a "Mormon Cookbook", and said, in a solemn voice and a bowed head, "This is a gift from my people."


I shouldn't have said it so formally, because they began to gingerly leaf through the pages of casseroles and jello, taking care not to bend the spine, and promising to do right by these hallowed recipes. 


I quickly clarified that I don't actually cook, and that despite what they've heard, these casserole recipes are not actually scripture, so they can feel free to abuse the book without offending anyone.


The rest of my pictures feature only Bree and Emily, because I'd often take out my camera and give a quick, "Smile, girls."


The result is what looks like a series of engagement pictures for them. 


Here's the happy couple, after the official announcement, celebrating at John's Pizzeria.




Each of us - a half - incomplete
together we are as one…
in this there shall be joy.

Look how daintily they ingest their BBQ from Will's Barbecue...




Each hour, each day, each year
We grow as two, yet as one,
We grow apart, yet together
Forming an eternal love



Here they are, under the famous Katz's Delicatessen sign. The world is their oyster!
Love turns
one person into two
and two into one
But, at times, even though they were smiling on the outside, I sensed a restlessness developing...
The most joyous of occasions
Is the union of man and woman
In celebration of life…
Eventually, it came to a boiling point, when I clandestinely snapped this picture of Bree with another man (Robbie, Boy With Books) and... a giant banana.


Three hearts
that beat
as one…

It's okay, though. Emily found someone else too:
Strangely, the "I Feel Lucky" button on Picasa wasn't so lucky this time.
And of course, in the end, the cow ran away with the spoon.

Okay, I just went to Google "Cow ran away with the spoon" to get a picture of the cow and the spoon together, but it turns out it was the dish who ran away with the spoon. 

What the what? Am I the only one who always remembered it as the Cow running away with the spoon? I'm a little disappointed. Here I thought the poem was being all progressive with a mammalian-flatware relationship. Now it turns out the spoon ended up with a plate. This is a little too normal for me. 

So I jotted down the version of the poem as I remember it, and here it is:

Hey diddle diddle,
The cat ate the fiddle
the cow jumped over the moon
Little Bo Peep lost her sheep,
And the cow ran away with the spoon.

I know now that there are many things wrong with my version, not the least of which is that Little Bo Peep doesn't belong there with her sheep, and any cow who jumped over the moon would be way too tired to run away with a spoon. 

And yes, the cat eats the fiddle in my version, but I ask you, how is that so much weirder than a cat who plays the fiddle?

Ohmyheck. Have I really spent this entire blog discussing Hey Diddle Diddle? What is my problem? 

So much for progress. This blog is so long! Take a few days, digest the entire thing, and then let me know what you think. 


Did anyone else have the cow and the spoon together?

Thing #1 and Thing #1, and vote on if my Behavior makes me a Stalker

Hey y'all!


Just a Friday quickie of Thing #1 and Thing #1 before my big New York trip:




Thing #1


Are you going to be in the NYC area next week? 


BFACP (Best Friend and Critique Partner) Emily Wing Smith is participating in a Teen Author Reading Night on June 1st.


Here are the details:
Date: June 1, 2011
Place: Mulberry Street Branch of the New York Public Library (Corner of Mulberry and Jersey)
Time: 6-7:30


If you're in the area, please come! Everyone is welcome. I'll be there too, so come and say hi. Bree Despain (author of The Dark Divine) will be there too.  


Thing #2


I still think about my major high school crushes. Not in a "Man, I'd love to trade up, and I wonder what he's up to" kind of way, but more in a "Who did he marry? Where does he live? Is he successful? Is Sam more successful? (kidding)" 


And my biggest crush from high school isn't on Facebook. He's not on Twitter. I don't even know if he's married, where he lives, what he does. This is driving me crazy! Not "so Crazy I can't sleep at night" but more in a "Once a month, when I check Facebook, it would be convenient if he were on there..."


So, here's the vote. Does this sort of behavior make me:


A: So totally normal. Everyone remembers their high school crushes. That's why we love to read Y.A.


or

B: Stalker. To the nth degree. Give me his name so I can warn him now not to leave his pet rabbit alone in the back yard. 



The Debut of our Cover Band, The Barely Manilows... with video.

Some people didn't think it would happen.

Some people thought I was only kidding.

Some people thought that we would suck.

Well, 2 out of the above 3 people were wrong. I wasn't kidding. It did happen.

Our critique group The Barely Manilows (More commonly known as The SIX) sang at the launch party for the awesome Emily Wing Smith and her new book BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE.

And while we originally threatened that anyone caught filming the catastrophe, I mean, performance, would lose a pinkie finger, we have since embraced the fact that we have no control over the interwebz. So now, we would like it to go the way of a virus. 
In the video, from right to left: Bree Despain on maracas, Kimberly Webb Reid on the Triangle, Sara Bolton on Bass Vocals, Emily Wing Smith on Castanets, Valynne Maetani Nagamatsu on weird jingle bell thingee with a long red stick... and finally, that's me on the keyboard.

I tried to get a keytar, but apparently it's not 1986. Oh well.

Enjoy. (The lyrics are below for your amusement. Just follow the bouncing ego.)



Her name was Joy, and
She was dumped by Zan
he liked to wear his grandpa's shoes
And he left her with the blues

But she was clueless
Why he liked her less
And while she tried to heal her heart,
Noah Liked her from afar
And then on beverage night
He liked to drink his Sprite

They were young and they fought each other
Who could ask for more

At the Haven
Mormon town, Haven
The dullest spot north of the border
At the Haven
Mormon town Haven
Music and Passion were never the fashion at the Haven....
They weren't in love

So joy and noah
they took a road trip
so she could stalk Zan like a fool
And surprise him at his school
But there's this detour
They're stuck in Vegas
And while his car is getting fixed, then their feelings get all mixed
And all you need to know
There's Barry Manilow
And the rest you can read within the pages of the book

At King's English
You can buy copies
They'll even print you out a receipt
At King's English
The Great King's English
Reading and Passion are always the Fashion
At King's English...
Go Buy the book.

Thanks to Jenni Elyse for taking and uploading the video. 
And now, as to the comments, please be kind. :)

Why Novel Writers Should Never Write Lyrics... and the Real Story Behind Copacabana

So, we had our first band practice of the Barely Manilows yesterday. Because we're performing at Emily Wing Smith's launch party tomorrow, and we didn't want to wait until the last minute. 

We also wrote new lyrics. I have since decided that writers of novels should never write lyrics. We get caught up in the mechanics. Here are some of the questions we asked while we were writing:

"I know this line makes for a good rhyme, but we haven't properly set up the character's motivation for the action."

"We can't put this here. It's chronologically inconsistent!"

"Too much description!"

"Did you really just try to sneak that -ly adverb in there?"

"Boyfriendless is not a word!"

"This line is, like, the definition of telling and not showing."

I have to say, the original lyrics have their fair share of telling, not showing.

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl
With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there
She would merengue and do the cha-cha
And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar
Across a crowded floor, they worked from 8 till 4
They were young and they had each other
Who could ask for more?

At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana (Copacabana)
The hottest spot north of Havana (here)
At the Copa (CO!), Copacabana
Music and passion were always the fashion
At the Copa....they fell in love


If I were writing the lyrics, I would've gone with something like this:

     "Lola!" The manager had to shout to be heard above the warm-up band. "You're up next!"
     "Coming!" Lola called from the dressing room. She glanced in the mirror, pulled her dress down to there and then turned to the girl standing in front of the adjacent mirror. "Hey, Mona. Do you think these yellow feathers in my hair are a bit much?"
     The girl studied Lola, tilting her head. "I'm not sure. What are you dancing tonight?"
     Lola groaned. "The merengue and the cha-cha. Again."
     "Girlfriend, you'll never be a star if you don't switch it up now and then." With that, Mona whipped around - the ruffles from her dress grazing Lola's bare thighs - and exited the room with a flourish.
     Lola sighed. I'll be a star in Tony's eyes.
     She straightened the feathers in her hair, pulled her dress slightly past there, and made her way through the throng of dancers coming back from their number. 
     "Hey Lola!" a red-headed dancer said. "Look for the guy in the front row, with the diamond nestled in his hairy chest. He's fast with the tips. And I think he's packing heat!"
     "I only have eyes for Tony," Lola responded, despite the thrill of a gun, and the promise of chest hair.
     As she stepped out into the club, she looked across the crowded dance floor, to where Tony was wiping down the bar. 
     He'll make such a good husband, she thought. Provided his temper doesn't get him shot one day. (Foreshadowing. Zing!)
     As if he felt her gaze he raised his head, his eyes meeting hers. She pointed to her wrist, and mouthed the words, what time are you off?
     He raised four fingers. She should've known. He always worked from eight to four. So late. At least they were young and they had each other. What could go wrong?
     She adjusted her dress again - it was always riding up above there - and then she wiped a fresh sheen of sweat off her forehead as she took her place in front of the band. 
     "It's hot in here tonight," the trumpet player Mark said from behind her. 
     "I know!" Lola said. "Where are we... Havana or something?"
     "Nope. Just north of Havana."

Then: The Chorus.

Sure, the words don't really fit with the music. But isn't that the mark of a true musician? Someone who can write music to fit these words
     
Fellow band member Valynne made us these band costumes:

I'm not saying the t-shirt company's claim that they are "one-size fits all" is a vicious lie, but I will say Barry's face looks even more distorted than usual when I wear it. 

And, is it meant to be a crop top? 

Emily's launch is tomorrow night at the King's English at 7:00. Let's party. Who's with me? And are there any Barry fans out there?

Please Vote on our Barry Manilow Cover Band Name

It's Friday, yo. 

So, my crit partner and BFF Emily Wing Smith has a new book coming out called BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE. 

The story involves a girl, a breakup, a guy, a road trip, and Barry Manilow. (Description my own. It fails to convey the awesomeness of this story.)

Anywho, for the launch party, my critique group The SIX (very apt description, because we are all six feet tall) decided to form a Barry Manilow cover band. 
The band members.

The fact that none of us are very musical didn't enter into the decision-making process.

Emily herself will be on the bongos.
Bree Despain on the maracas.

Valynne Nagamatsu on the piano.

Sara Bolton and Kim Reid on backup vocals. (We don't know who they'll be backing up. We're just hoping one of us emerges as a star).

I will be on the key-tar. 
The severed hands are included.

Guess who's invited to the launch party?
You! Yes, you!
BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE RELEASE PARTY
Thursday, April 28
7:00 p.m
King’s English Bookshop
1511 South 1500 East,  Salt Lake City

Mark your calendars!
So, we are trying to decide on a band name, and here's where you come in. Please vote on your favorite, or if you have a suggestion, you can enter it in the comments. 

A. The Six Merry Manilows

B. Raindrops Keep Falling on my Dead (submitted by Douglas Cootey)

C. The Cuckoo Cabanas (submitted by Josh Berk)

D. Rico Wore a Diamond (submitted by Saundra Mitchell)

E. The Barely Manilows 
And if you suggest a title, and we choose it, we will dedicate a song to you. Thank you for playing!

My Trip with Doctor Who, and How a Small Child was Maimed at the Book Blogger Social

Happy Monday y'all.


How about some Thing 1 and Thing 1!




Thing 1:
Doctor Who visited me in my sleep last night. For those of you who don't know, Doctor Who is a time-travelling man/alien who saves the world a lot. 
Dr. Who and Rose. They made me cry a lot.
Last night, I dreamed I got to go on one of his exciting adventures.  Where would we end up? Ancient Rome? Shakespearean London? Or... a thousand years into the future? 


No. He took me to 1989 to see the filming of that Patrick Swayze classic Roadhouse. You know, the one where Swayze plays a tough bouncer hired to straighten out a dirty bar? 
It's his way... or the highway.
Yeah, I wasn't familiar with this movie either. I have no idea where it was hiding out in my sub conscience.


Before you ask, no, I didn't get to see Mr. Swayze utter his most famous lines:


"Pain don't hurt."


and


"Nobody ever wins a fight."


and finally,


"My way... or the highway."


I asked the Doctor what we were doing here, and he looked at me like, "Duh, it's your dream. Isn't that a question for your therapist?"


I'm inclined to agree with him. 


Nobody ever "wins" a fight! Except the last guy standing...


Thing 1:
We went to the Utah Bool Blogger Social Saturday night. Utah is home to a staggering amount of book bloggers, and twice a year they get together to party with the local authors.


And when I say party, I mean party. Want proof? Check out this candid pic:
Authors Matt Kirby, Bree Despain, and myself.
Photo taken by 
Heather Gardner Photography
This picture popped up on the internet after the party. I love it. Bree and I look thoroughly unimpressed, and Matt looks a little disgusted. 


I'm here to tell you, that was not representative of the evening! Heather has promised to give us a little more notice before she snaps a candid picture next time.


Overheard at the party:


-Emily Wing Smith and I, taking turns to see who could cough up a lung first. (I won)


-Bree and Emily, having a discussion that involved the phrases, "Who did you fork that one time?" 
It's not like it sounds. They have both had accidents where they nearly impaled a bystander with a fork. 


-Matt Kirby said afterward that the "Who did you fork" conversation would make my blog. He claims his blog-worthy-statements-detection-skills are running at about 98%.


-During the book swap, Chersti Nieveen trampled a small child to get her hands on Emily Wing Smith's ARC of BACK WHEN YOU WERE EASIER TO LOVE.


-She later swore the child was really the devil's spawn, and deserved to be trampled. 
Here's a picture of the unfortunate demon child:
Don't be fooled by her angelic disguise.
Here's a pic that better captures the spirit of the event.


Top: Matt Kirby, Bree Despain
Bottom: Chersti Nieveen, Emily Wing Smith, Leisha Maw


Because nothing screams "Party!" like Bree Despain wearing Princess Leia Buns made out of lightbulbs. 


So, what did y'all do over the weekend? Were you at the social? (If so, give a holla in the comments). Did you see any good movies? Did you trample any small children?

LTUE Conference, and my Biggest Pet Peeve in Movies

Hey y'all.


So, I don't know if you noticed, but I forgot to blog on Friday. It's not really that I forgot, it's that I drove to Provo for the LTUE (Life, the Universe, and Everything) writing conference, and I didn't get to my hotel room until 11:30.


And then I forgot.


I went to the conference on and off, because the main reason I was there was to be with my writer's group.
Emily Wing Smith and Bree Despain, 2/6 of the SIX.
Numbers 2 and 3 Crazy, respectively. 


We hadn't seen each other in over a month, and as everyone knows, every month that goes by where we don't see each other, a part of us just shrivels up and dies.


It's random which parts this affects. For me, it was my upper left ear lobe. Emily wasn't so lucky. It was her right eye. Bree lost her writing hand. For Sara, the part that shriveled up and fell off happened to be a baby.
Little Emmi Bolton. Who knew that's how babies were made?
I have to admit, my cup has been runneth-ing under a little bit lately, so it was nice to be with these gals and get a refill.


Other Happenings at the Conference:


*James Dashner displays extraordinary honesty in his keynote address:
Just Kidding. He rocked the house. And only made a couple babies cry.
*Mette Ivie Harrison and Bree were on a panel teaching us about the problems we face when writing sequels, and how to solve those problems.
Mette and Bree: Experts on Sequels


*The next day, Bree promptly forgot everything she ever knew about writing sequels, and had a meltdown about her own upcoming sequel.


*I got to meet up with old friends and meet some new friends. *Waves to everyone*


*We saw I am Number Four.
Alex Pettyfer. He doesn't care the world is blowing up around him.
Now that Alex is in Number four, and they want him for Hunger Games, and the Mortal Instruments series, we're convinced a Young Adult novel cannot be adapted for the big screen unless his name is attached. 

Please, someone out there produce another hot, blond teenage actor. Otherwise, none of our books stands a chance. 

AS FOR MY PET PEEVE:

Also in the movie, my favorite cliche, where the character sets an explosive in a building and then walks away in slow motion, and when the building blows up behind her, she can't be bothered to notice. 
Please say one of those 2X4's whacks her in the head. Please.

What the what? I'm sorry, I don't care how many buildings you've blown up. If something is exploding mere feet behind you... you look! Everyone would look! If you don't look, all I can think is, "She must be deaf from all the buildings she's blown up."

Even then, there is no excuse. It can't be that old. I see fireworks every Fourth of July, and there's no way I would just walk away in slow motion while the show went on behind me. It never gets old! Look! Pretty fire! 

Just once, I want that scene to happen, and then one of the sparks lights her hair on fire. 

Then we can be all, "Yeah, you shoulda looked."

Anyone else see it? What did you think? 

p.s. Update on my dad: He's completed his first round of chemo, and is doing well. Yay! Thanks for all of your prayers and well-wishes. 

The Dreaded Author Pic: aka Why I was up all Night. aka Anyone want to stand in for me?

Yo, y'all.

Today I'm getting the thing that every author dreads and fears:

No, not leprosy. I'm getting the author picture. You know, the one that will go on the back cover of the book, to be immortalized in print forever.

Okay, maybe not every author feels like I do, but darn if I wasn't up all night last night stressing about it. (Which did wonders for my skin this morning, and not in the good way). 

I have friends who have totally awesome author pics:
Bree "I can even make a brick wall look good" Despain

Emily "What picture? I was just looking at something over there, and smiling thoughtfully" Wing Smith

Then there's me.
This picture was in the Salt Lake Tribune over the weekend, with the caption "Fans of Utah young adult author Ally Condie". 

I had no idea how front-and-center I would appear. Check out the poor little girl to my left, who's trying to peek around the enormous planet dressed in black. 

It looks more like the caption should read: "Ally's number one giant fan, who might follow her home and leave dead roses by her front door. She's comin' to getcha, Ally. And she's leading the charge of hundreds more just like her! Only, smaller. Rarrrrr!"

To be fair, when the girl told everyone she was taking the picture, I puffed up like a blow fish. That's how I pose. 
Cheese.
I also took another picture recently. I won't show it to you, but I will tell you that if it had a caption, it would read "Boobs McGee, and her giant purse. Be amazed at how they dwarf everyone around them!"

Emily Wing Smith says I look exactly the same in every picture ever taken of me. I don't know what she's talking about...






Okay, maybe I do. But this is because I have spent my life practicing how to smile so I don't look like this:
 
Brodi Ashton. Her cheeks arrive 15 minutes before she does.
Anywho, there's a chance I'm overthinking the whole thing. Really, I just want to get it over with. Anyone have any advice? Anyone know how to apply blush so that my chest looks flatter?

Maybe I'll just go with the caption: "Objects in picture are smaller than they appear. I promise."

What would the captions of your own pictures read?