Win Cool Stuff/Help A Cool Author!

From Lauren Barnholdt's Blog

Introducing....

THE REALITY CHICK BUZZ THE BOOK contest!

The PRIZES:

(1) Your choice of either an iPod Shuffle, OR a fifty dollar Amazon.com gift certificate
(2) An autographed copy of REALITY CHICK by Lauren Barnholdt
(3) A copy of the August issue of Teen People, which lists REALITY CHICK as a Can't-Miss Pick for August
(4) Free tuition to a session of Lauren's YA writing class

THE CONTEST:

STEP ONE: Simply copy and paste this whole message (including the info about the contest) into any blog, message board, email list, myspace bulletin, or anywhere a lot of people will see it!

REALITY CHICK by Lauren Barnholdt is NOW IN STORES!

Going away to college means total independence and freedom. Unless of
course your freshman year is taped and televised for all the world to
watch. On uncensored cable.

Sweet and normal Ally Cavanaugh is one of five freshpeople shacking up
on In the House, a reality show filmed on her college campus. (As if
school isn't panic-inducing enough!) The cameras stalk her like
paparazzi, but they also capture the fun that is new friends, old
crushes, and learning to live on your own.

Sure, the camera adds ten pounds, but with the freshman fifteen a given anyway, who cares?
Ally's got bigger issues -- like how her long-distance bf can watch her
loopy late-night "episode" with a certain housemate...

Freshman year on film.
It's outrageous.
It's juicy.
And like all good reality TV, it's impossible to turn off.

IN STORES NOW!

Check out Lauren on the web at www.laurenbarnholdt.com or on her myspace at www.myspace.com/laurenbarnholdt

STEP TWO -- Email Lauren at lauren (at) laurenbarnholdt.com and let her know you've posted about the contest and the book, and you'll be entered to win the prize pack! The winner will be picked at random on September 1st. The more places you post, the more entries you get. Have fun and good luck!!!

Mindless Fluff

So my last post was well thought out, informative, involved, was the stuff of substance. It was bound to lead to this one--nice, fluffy, filled with the mindless jibberish of a writer who is closing in fast on the end of a two week writing break. If you're looking for substance, you might want to look elsewhere.

HEY! Where are you going? No, I didn't mean it! Sit your butt down and stare at the wallpaper with the rest of us! You're a minion, after all, and you minions have to stick together.

Speaking of sticking together, I think that's something a lot of writers can't grasp the concept of--that we're not in competition with one another, that the only people out there who can really understand what we're going through are other writers. It's important to have one another's backs. Because if we don't respect one another, help one another...then who will?

Hey! Where did that come from? This is supposed to be fluff. Mindless fluff. Of the pink variety. (Who am I kidding? It's black, white, grey and red, baby!) So...in other Heather news, I'm currently reading a copy of the Weekly World News. Why? Well, because it features a captured vampire cat on the front cover...which, you must admit, is pretty tempting to read about. (Especially when beneath the title, it reads, "bowl of human blood used as bait!") When I'm finished laughing, I'll go back to reading Blood Monster Tattoo.

Or I may stare at the wall and count down the hours until my writing break is over.

The Art of Acquiring Blurbs

So, how do I do it? How do I get blurbs from such amazing people as Butch Hartman, D.J. MacHale, Katie MacAlister (who also writes as Katie Maxwell), Christopher Moore, Erica Orloff (who also writes as Liza Conrad), Douglas Rees, and Nancy Baker? Well, sit back, get cozy, maybe grab a pen...because I'm about to tell you, so that you can acquire blurbs from people whose work you greatly admire and don't believe it's possible to garner the attention of. You can do it. Trust me.

First off, you should make a list of your favorite authors (or, as in the case of Butch Hartman, your favorite non-authors that you truly admire). Don't leave off any name, no matter how big and important they might be. Now, go over the list. Do you absolutely adore each and every one of them? Or are you thinking of contacting them just because they're a big name? Cross out the names of people who you wouldn't give up a kidney to get a blurb from. Now, happy with your list? Good.

The next step is finding their contact info. I have yet to go through an agent or editor, preferring to approach the potential blurber directly. After all, why put an obstacle in there? Why not attempt to cement a personal relationship with your potential blurber? After all, you love these people, right? (Otherwise, why are they on your list?) So, hop on Google and search, search, and search again until you have email addresses where you can contact them. (If you absolutely can't find an email address, you can resort to snail mail, but I've found it's easier to get their attention by email) Add the contact info to your list. It's time to write the perfect blurb request.

Now, each blurb request should be personalized and, if you can't personalize them, then they should cover a broad view of the deep love you have for these authors (or non-authors, as the case may be). Below is a truly terrible example of what you'll write:

Dear Mr. Perfectblurber,

First off, let me say that I've been a fan of your "Dark Elves of the Dark, Dark Forest" series since I was ten years old. It was your series that really began my romance with reading. From that love of books sprang my passion for writing, and I am anxiously awaiting my first book's debut in January 2007 (titled "Dark Elves are Crunchy and Taste Good with Ketchup"/ Perfectbook Publishers). It is an honor to make your acquaintance, even if only in email.

I know that you must be very busy, but if you wouldn't mind taking a look at my book and, if you enjoy it, saying a few kind words, I would greatly appreciate it. Of course, if you can't, I completely understand.

I'll post a description of my book below to give you a better understanding of what my book is about. Thanks for considering!

Very Best,
Beggy McWriterson

"Dark Elves are Crunchy and Taste Good with Ketchup"

In the land of PatheticStory, a black king rules over the hearts and dinner plates of his impoverished residents. No food can be found and the king's palate is screaming for the taste of a long forgotten delicacy, elf meat ala tomato sauce. Too bad Woody Springfoot, a short elf with an even shorter temper didn't know this before he wandered into town, a ketchup bottle strapped to his belt...

Terrible story? You betcha! Terrible letter? Yes. But it's there to give you the gist. Be professional. Be honest. Be kind. And don't think that just because a writer has hit the NYTimes bestseller list twenty times over means they feel above you in any way. Writers are good people. And the really successful ones? Well, they want you to succeed too. We're all in the same club.

So, send out your email (which has been written, rewritten, and eventually—one would hope—perfected) and don't hold your breath. Writers are busy. Sometimes it takes months to garner a response. And if by chance, they say no, be gracious. Thank them for considering, tell them how much you're looking forward to their next book on Dark Elves. Be kind. It's not easy to say no.

But if they say yes...don't pester them while they read. And if they give you a blurb, thank them repeatedly, tell everyone you know. Appreciate their time and effort.

Because someday you may be on the other side of that fence, wishing people were as kind to you.

That's it. Nothing up my sleeves. No strings, no wires. Not even a lovely assistant (unless you count Google). I'm kind to people. And maybe a little funny.

Now go get those blurbs.

If Anything Were SQUEE-Worthy...

This would be. And it is! I just got a blurb for EIGHTH GRADE BITES from Butch Hartman, creator of Nickelodeon's The Fairly OddParents and Danny Phantom!!! I nearly cried--it's just that good.

Butch, I hereby profess my undying love for you. You are a GOD!

Here's what Butch had to say:

"'Eighth grade Bites' had me on the edge of my seat. It's a great piece of fiction. It drops you right into the action, grabs you by the throat (pun intended), and won't let go. Vladimir Tod is a truly sympathetic character cursed with an existence not of his own doing, but doing his best to do the right thing. It's part 'Goosebumps' mixed with 'Harry Potter' and a dash – no, a heaping tablespoon – of Stephen King. If you're in eighth grade, or a vampire, or an eighth grade vampire, 'Eighth Grade Bites' is a definite must read!"

What I Learned In New York

1. People in New York move everywhere with quick-paced purpose...but I'm not convinced that any of them are really going anywhere. (Maybe it's just me)

2. No matter what you've heard about New Yorkers, they are incredibly kind. I've seen more rudeness at PTA meetings. Well...not really, because I don't go to them. But if I did, I imagine there would be a fair share of rudeness (if only my own).

3. There's always something. Something to eat, something to do. Always.

4. Writers are wonderful people. Next year, I may grace them with more Heatheresque clothing, rather than dressing up in a professional costume. Okay...I may blend the two.

5. Bald men are dead sexy. (This means you, Keith and Ewoh)

6. Carrying a coffin around the airport attracts people who seem genuinely interested in my books. Go figure.

7. Jackie Kessler is the queen of the damned and the queen of cool. (Okay, I knew that one already, but dude...at the same time, I had no idea)

8. Chocolate=Love

9. My agent is every bit as charasmatic, funny, brilliant, witty and wonderful in person as he is on the phone and in email...plus, he's strikingly handsome. (Which is good...I have a need to balance out my cuteness with good-looking associates. Not really. But I'm underslept and right now, this entry is making me giggle. A giggling goth? That's just sick. I am far too perky for my own good.)

10. My editor is even more amazing face-to-face. I could just sit and talk to her for hours (and did). (Plus, she's lovely...wow, what's with all the attractive people in NY? Note to self: seek out my fellow creatures of the night next time I visit the city)

11. More people are interested in me, my backstory, and my books than I realize.

12. I can be completely myself--immature, dorky, goofy, and weird and people will strangely think me to be charming and interesting. (I have them all fooled! *insert maniacal laughter here*)

and 13. Coming home really is the best part of any trip. (Unless you live next to a corn field. Then...well, then you live next to a corn field)

Taking a few days away from blogging, from computer stuff in general, as being upbeat and 'on' all weekend completely exhausted me and I need some serious hermit time. So, I'm crawling back into my coffin. Let me know when the sun goes down.

I'm a Liar.

"Actors are good liars; writers are good liars with good memories."
~Daniel K. Moran

"When I was a little boy, they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer."
~Isaac Singer

"Writers are liars, my dear."
~Neil Gaiman

I'm a liar. What's it to you? I have to be. It's my job.

I've read many books. Many, many books. The good ones were written by good writers, but the best ones were written by the best liars. Let me explain.

Your job (my job, Neil Gaiman's job, Stephen King's job, etc.) as a writer is to lie soooooo well that even you believe the lie. To construct events, people, and details that mesh so well together that there cannot be any significant room for doubt that these events, people, and details could possibly--at least in the realm of imagination--exist. We lie. And if we lie well enough, people will want us to lie more.

It's a good gig.

But I'm also a liar in another way. You see, I said I was completely finished packing for tomorrow's trip.

*sigh*

Nope.

But while I'm finishing, I wanted to drop by and grace my loyal minions with one final bow before flitting off to New York for my weekend of book-involved fun. Remember, minions, to eat your veggies, wear sunblock (tan isn't sexy, it's skin damage), read things you're told not to, daydream about the day when EIGHTH GRADE BITES will be released, and above all, miss me terribly. I'll be back on Sunday, but likely not blogging 'til Monday.

Yours in Eternity,
Heather

EDITED TO SAY: Dude! I just got a blurb from the amazing Katie MacAlister! SQUEE!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Katie! If I ever see you at faire, the meade's on me. Here's what she had to say about EIGHTH GRADE BITES:

"Eighth Grade Bites is a delightful novel filled with dark, biting humor that will appeal to everyone who ever felt they were different. A deft hand at depicting the angst of teen years, Heather Brewer does a wonderful job blending vampire legend with the modern day horror that strikes fear in the heart of so many: the eighth grade."

Hazards of Not Writing

1. You may experience insomnia (with or without the urge to get out of bed in the middle of the night and watch old game shows).

2. With your imagination on overdrive, with no outlet to speak of, you may have odd dreams--say, about a really hot, young principal who says he wants to eat your eyes.

3. No matter how hard you try--even without a pen, paper, or Word--you will write. You'll write in your head and before you know it, you'll have to scribble those thoughts down, because they were uncommonly brilliant. (Uncommon brilliance only occurs when you're trying to avoid it)

4. You get REALLY cranky.

5. And you want chocolate.

I'm Plumtastic!

In a wave of boredom, I decided to get my hair dyed. Again. (because life needs more rainbows) This time, my hair is a pretty purply-reddish color. Like a plum. Only not as tasty.

Ninth Grade Sucks is in the hands of my fabulous agent (along with the outline for Beyond the Looking Glass). So you know what that means...it's Auntie Heather's two week no writing break! WOOHOO!!!

Which means I'll be doing very little for a bit, as I try to clear out the mental cobwebs. Oooh, but I did find this torture device over on Katie MacAlister's blog. (so blame her!) Other than that, I'm packed for my NYC trip, I'm attempting to relax, and I'm catching up on a whole lotta nothin'.

It's everything I dreamt it to be. :)

The Minion Horde Keeps Growing!

I was going to do this tomorrow, but then I just realized, "Hey, you ninny! You haven't blogged yet today!" Besides, I'm so geeked I just had to share--and send a big shout out to my Bardstown minions in Bardstown, Kentucky! Many, many thanks to the minions (of course) and to Emily Burkot, who is now my favorite vampire loving librarian at Nelson County Public Library. You guys rawk!

And while I'm at it, thanks to Amanda too!

And Griffin and Katelyn!

And Jackie!

And any other minions I have temporarily forgotten to post pics of.

You guys totally rule and Vlad and I are lucky to know you!

It's Me! (kinda)

Trendy? Nu-uh. No way.

I've always been the way I am. Honestly, it wasn't until I was in my young twenties that I heard the term 'goth' (from a goth, no doubt) and realized, "Hey...there are more people out there who love black, live free, and have a taste for all things macabre." It was a pretty cool you're-not-alone-on-the-planet moment. But I'm not this way because it's hip (and yeah, I know it's not hip to say hip, but I'm against trends and I'm expressing my individuality...also, I'm a complete dork). I just am. This is me. What you see is what you get. I love vampires, spiderwebs, spiders (well, some spiders), bats, Halloween, full moons, black clothes, fishnet ANYTHING, and discussing what really might be going bump in the night. I'm not a terror cookie (someone who dons goth gear because it's trendy). And it's amazing that my weirdness has a title, because I've always been this way. And I'm happy about it...in an occasionally mopey way. (Incidentally, I hope you're happy with whoever you are too)

But then this meteor came crashing down into my life. See, I needed a little handbag for my trip, something simple (I'd die for something coffin-like or bat-like or something, but alas...). So I Google for a black bag (apparently the size I want is called a "wristlet"), find a simple enough one for a decent price, buy it, and it gets here lickety split (again...I'm a dork). So I take it out in public to beat it into submission (like I do all of my trip-related belongings...it's a thing I have. I have to use it before its intended trip or else it doesn't feel like mine). Well, before I know it, I'm stopped by this blonde, tan, pink-wearing JenniferLoveFelicityDesperateDawson'sHousewifeCreek person, who squeals a question so high pitched that I had to ask her to repeat it, as I am not a canine. So she did. "Is that a Vera Bradley?" Oh no. Oh no, no, no. "It's a bag," I say. She blinks, taking a moment to register that I've spoken. I swear I can see the gears turning behind her shiny eyes. Then, that cheerleader snarl that I'd been waiting for and she points out the zipper pull with the mark of the Vera Bradley brand. Apparently, I bought something trendy.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

So now, I hate my new bag and wish bad things on it. That is, bad things that do not involve becoming lost while holding my money.

So apart from loathing a piece of fabric, today I'm busy with...well, nothing, really. Huh. Go figure. I could pack, I suppose...

Pack, Unpack, Repack, Wash, Rinse, Repeat

How hard can it be to pack a suitcase and stay packed? Apparently, pretty hard. In the last week (now, mind you, my loyal minions, that Auntie Heather tends to pack her bag about a month in advance of a trip and she is now down to just over a week) I've packed my bag four times. But there's, apparently, this lil worm that lives in my ear, who'll tell me that I should really wear that jacket I packed or wouldn't that top look great for tonight? It tells me not to pack any make-up or to hastily unpack certain shoes. So here I am, just over a week away from the Backspace Conference...and I'm only half packed. Bleh.

My desk is clean, though, which can only mean one thing--Auntie Heather is on the verge of a two week no-writing binge. It'll be tough (they always are), but once again, it's time to clear out the mental cobwebs. I'm on the verge, you see, because I'm ever so close to sending that Wonderland outline to my agent (just need a quick look-see from my darling CP). The conference should make time fly by...you know, what with all that talk of writing. (hoo boy) It's an addiction, I swear. But I can do it. Just need something to read. (Actually, I have an ENORMOUS To-Be-Read pile in my closet, so I'm good)

Oooh! Plus! On July 27th, I'm headed to my local library to meet Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, authors of Peter and the Starcatchers and Peter and the Shadow Thieves. Cool, huh? I thought so.

Beyond that....I'm packing. Again. Then unpacking. Then re...I think you get the picture.

Book Schtuff

Owie. My neck hurts. I slept crooked the other night and ever since...owie.

But pain's not standing in my way, oh no. Today I'm working on that Wonderland outline and, surprise! I'm really liking what I see. Hopefully after a few more tweaks it'll be fit for my fabulous agent's eyes. I really hate outlines and have questioned my sanity several times over since I offered to write one. From now on, I think I'll just write the book first--200 pages are so much easier than 17.

Why? Because in 200, I can fly by the seat of my pants, listen to my characters, be surprised, not focus. It's a lalalalala approach (until revisions, anyway). But with 17, I have to think and focus and question and it's much more like actual work. Ew. So...no more outlines. Let me rephrase that: no more outlines unless my fabulous agent or amazing editor want an outline. Then, I'm happy to write one. (Well, not really, but shh!)

Plus! I came up with the most amazing idea for a new book. But...I'm not telling anyone until I talk to my agent about it (well, okay, so hubby and CP know), so I don't jinx it (okay, so I'll likely tell my sister too--but that's it, I swear!). Huh. I just realized that I can't tell anyone that hasn't read Ninth Grade Sucks. Bummer.

Ah well. Off to Wonderland!

I Hope It Doesn't Suck

Well, according to my reader, my Critique Partner, my hubby, and that little voice at the back of my head (it sits next to Vlad), Ninth Grade Sucks is finished. Last night I tweaked one final scene and emailed it to my agent. So cross your fingers, minions. I'm pretty proud of this book. Hopefully, my agent (and later on, my editor) will be too.

Haven't I been bad this week? Hardly any blog entries at all. Shame on me! And the sick thing is, I have little reason for it, beyond a completely fried brain. I leave for NYC in two weeks (oh crap, less than two weeks!), can't seem to keep my bag packed, and have had the worst nightmares about this trip. Last night's was a doozy. Neil Gaiman showed up and was spreading rumors about me. So everyone started pointing and whispering. It was awful. And Neil is a god, so it really bummed me out that he was saying nasty things about me. Stress? Lil bit, yeah.

I'm currently compiling a list of potential reviewers and interviewers, so if you (or someone you know) are a book reviewer or author interviewer (yeah...I know) and would be interested in reviewing Eighth Grade Bites or interviewing me, drop me a line and I'll see about getting you on the list. Because some day very soon, I'm going to have *faints* ARCs.

Whoa. I just had another one of those "I'm being published!" moments.

Maybe I've Been Working Too Much

Rain follows me. Now, that's normally a cool thing. I love the rain, have been known on occasion to dance in it, go puddle jumping, and encourage the neighborhood kids to have water fights in it (hey...they were already wet). I love it.

But when I really, really want to see fireworks (which I do--there's something very cool about fiery bursts against a black velvet sky), it would be nice if the rain would back off. *le sigh* Ah well, maybe tonight.

So I've tweaked Ninth Grade Sucks and sent it on to my Critique Partner for one final viewing before sending it off to my fabulous agent. The outline for Beyond the Looking Glass is currently laying (lying?) on my desk, staring at me with an incredulous look. "Why aren't you working on me instead of blogging?" Well, that's simple...blogging is easier.

Last night (in lieu of watching fireworks *le sigh*) I started packing for the Backspace Conference. I'm excited, nervous, happy, hesitant, and curious about the whole thing. Not only do I get to meet my agent, my editor, and my CP in person (along with many wonderful friends), but I get to experience a taste of NYC, somewhere I've never been before. Plus, I get to see how author's panels work--something else I've not yet experienced. I'm sure I'll pick up tidbits that are good to know for the near future.

Anyway, back to packing. So much of my beautiful, unique clothes/makeup/jewelry are staying home, all for want of professionalism. Blech. Who ever thought I'd be a corporate goth? But I'm pretty pleased with my choices...at least they're black. And I'm carrying a coffin...so that's something. And my luggage tag is a skull. You know what? This blog entry just crumbled. I have no idea what I was meaning to say.

Huh. So...yeah.