Okay, so here's the truth: voting is not really all that exciting. I mean, you go into a little room, get your ID checked by a bevy of geriatric volunteers (so nice and so cute -- I love old people), and then stand at a computer for ten minutes. It's boring, really.

But what's exciting is everything that comes after: the endless conversations on CNN and FoxNews about who will take control of the House and the Senate, how the last two years of the Presidency will go, and most importantly -- the end of those stupid recorded messages that always end up interrupting something.

As a young person, I'm always being told that voting is something I should do -- that my vote can change the world. It's really, really easy to become cynical, because a lot of politicans ignore the young people (even though they don't mind us going to fight overseas). I can't even count the number of times I've seen a political ad and thought, "What's it matter? Whatever's going to happen will happen."

Look -- I don't know if my vote will honestly change anything. And I'm positive there were no streamers and trumpets when I walked out of the voting center. But what i do know is that for the rest of the day, I'm going to wear my "I VOTED" sticker and when the results come in -- no matter what the outcome -- I'll know that I didn't sit and accept whatever comes my way. I went out and did something. And that, for me, is what's exciting.

Today -- after giving a book talk on Looking For Alaska for my Adolescent Literature class, I came home to find An Abundance of Katherines waiting for me. God bless Amazon.com and their wonderful ability to send a book one day before it comes out.

Off to read.

Well, first, I recieved a wonderful scene-tique from Cynthea. Let me tell you: it is everything people say it is, and more. She was so dead on with her notes and she cut through all of my writer crap and got to the soul of the scene. I am amazed. She is so great.

Now, on to something a littler more difficult: I joined an online critique group about two months ago. After my first submision, I recieved a few nice critiques and then a scathing (but helpful) one. The scathing critique basically ended with: "i didn't really like it all all, but I don't like a lot of modern literary (here the person meant non chick-lit) fiction for teens."

So -- this month I submitted. And almost everyone else has gotten a critique back -- except for me. I thought at first it might be an email problem -- I even emailed the moderator, but no -- everything sent out fine. So now I'm thinking that the poeple in my group hate what i wrote so much they dread even having to read it and try to critique. Which leaves me in a mess.

I like the critique group. I like having a deadline every month to work for. I like reading what everyone else is writing and trying to help. I like hearing outside comments.

But for awhile now I've been thinking this group is not right for me. I don't fit in, for whatever reason. So -- LJ friends - can you help? Should I try to talk to the moderator? Should I just tell the moderator I want to leave the group? Should I try to stick it out? I don't know what is the right thing for me to do.

Any help -- any -- would be great.

So, the book Lisa was talking about is called A Taste of Blackberries by Doris Bunchannan Smith. You can read more about it here:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/006440238X/ref=pd_rvi_gw_1/102-2399978-7501731?ie=UTF8


Many thanks to Amanda Marrone for giving such a thoughtful, wonderful reply to my original post.

I am currently taking an adolescent lit. class, and today we were on the subject of summer homework. One lady in my class, Lisa, who is a mother of two and currently working as teacher while she finishes up her graduate studies, relayed this to us:

Her son, in the sixth grade, was assigned a novel to read over the summer. In the climax of the novel the boy is out in a field picking blueberries, gets stung by a bee and dies. "Don't read it, it's terrible!" she warned us, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe it had ever been assigned. According to the description Lisa gave, the entire book was focused on the scene in the field. I find this hard to believe -- 150 pages of one scene? No doubt there is more to the book, but as people often do when they are trying to make a point, Lisa only reported the truth as she wanted to see it.


Lisa walked in on her son sobbing on the couch as he finished the novel. The teacher was unaware that Lisa's son was, in fact, allegic to bee stings, and could die from one attack. "Now he's afraid to go outside. It's all I have to do just to get him to go into school in the morning," she said. "They can't even get him outside for recess."

Lisa is a take-charge type of mother, and instantly complained to the school, wanting the teacher to be punished in some way (for not knowing ahead of time her son was allergic) and the book to be removed from the classroom.

Now, I feel sympathetic to Lisa and her son. It's a shame that he had such a traumatic reading experience and that he is now afraid to even go outdoor. However, I wanted to ask some questions:

Did Lisa's son know he was allergic to bee stings? If so, why didn't he feel some sort of kinship with the main character? Or did he just know if he got stung he would die? What had she told him before this point? Why did he react so strongly? (It all seemed a little suspicious to me). . .

To me, Lisa's son's reaction is more than a little too extreme, and a result of her lax parenting skills (and please tell me if I'm wrong): why in her right mind would Lisa tell her son he is allergic to bees and could die? Why wouldn't she give him a safety net, make a plan so he could remain calm instead of being paralyzed with fear. "If a bee is around, here's what you should do. . ." "If you get stung by a bee, here's what you need to do. . ." Give him a plan to fall back on. Instead of throwing your arms around him and telling him he will always be safe, give him a sense of control over the situation.

When he read the book (and what kind of working English teacher doesn't know what her own son is reading? Am I wrong to assume that any parent should at least have a passing interest in what their child brings home?) and became so upset by it, why didn't Lisa take the time to discuss what happened to the character. "What should he have done?" she could have asked. "What would you do?"

I'm really opinionated (obviously) about people trying to ban books, and this just seemed like a perfect example. This teacher undoubtedly feels a sense of shame over terrifying a young child, Lisa is upset, her son is paralyzed with fear, and to me it seems like it could all have been avoided.

I don't know. It's hard to speak clearly right now. i feel all fired up about this. If anyone has anything to say (and please feel free to disagree -- i would love to hear some new ideas about this, honestly), please leave a comment.

Yesterday I found out Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, died. I was staying at my sister's house while she was out of town, and when she returned in the morning, she told me. I wondered how it could have happened, thinking (like most people did, I'm sure) "He finally got too close to one of his 'little buddies.'"

No, I was informed, he died from an attack by a sting ray. Which is almost a little too surreal to even fully consider. Stingrays have long pointed tails (I'm sure of this -- I've been to the zoo many times) but I'd actually never considered that the spears would be used in some way, least of all to actually harm someone.

Later, it was reported that the medics removed the stingray's spear from Irwin's chest, and I was reminded of what I was told many times during my youth: after a bee stings a person, the yellow-and-black striped creature dies. So it was only logical to assume the stingray must have also died. And while I'm not actually sure if stingray's are endangered, I would guess they are, and so the death of Irwin, coupled with the death of the stingray, is a tragedy.

Of course, I do not mean to triviliaze anyone's death. When I was younger, I would watch "The Crocidile Hunter" with my family. We were not really interested in the animals as much as the almost-suicidal behavior of the host, Mr. Steve Irwin, and his lovely wife, Terry.

Somehow, the way those things do, "The Crocodile Hunter" dissapeared from television, being replaced by Caesat, The Dog Whisperer and Mario Lopez on World's Most Talented Pets. Irwin made the news a few years later when he appeared on Australian television, holding his baby son in one arm and enticing an alligator with the other. The American news organization went into an uproar, as usual, more concerned with one celebrity's handling of their child than the millions of hungry and neglected children in our own country. Experts in everything from child care to animal handling were brought in to give their expert opinions on Irwin's abilities as a father. But, soon, the whole matter was forgotten, and Irwin dropped off the American map once again.

As more news broke about Irwin's death, I found out he had been killed while filming a television special on aquatic life. My first thought was: "He's still on t.v.?"

Dumbly -- as only an American can -- I had not considered that Irwin's television career, though over in the U.S., was still going strong abroad. I realized I had just assumed Irwin and Terry and their two children were living in Australia on an alligator farm of some sort. Irwin would always wear his trademark khaki shirt and shorts and Terry would just laugh the way she always did, not even batting an eye when she saw her husband put his hand inside a crocodile's mouth or let a snake grip around his arm. Whatever I considered, it was not a continued career on television.

Truth be told, I had not thought about Steve Irwin in many years. Sure, he had been a star in his own right for some time, but America seems to have a revolving door of celebrity, and Irwin was on the far side of the door, out of sight.

Of course, his death brought him back into the light. The news last night was littered with his friends, speaking fondly of his heoric efforts. His television specials and shows were shown back-to-back on the Animal Planet television channel. Blogs around the world were updated as everyone remembered Irwin, and how he had somehow touched their lives.

I do not mean to be pessimistic, but I find it vaguely insulting. If we could go back a day, before the news of Irwin's death broke, how many people across America would be watching his show, or looking up his picture on the Internet, calling their friends to remember some crazy stunt he did?

America has its own, unique way of mourning, I suppose. We don't care about someone unless they die, and then we remember how great they were, how much their words and actions touched us. It is better, I guess, to be late in our affection than to never show any compassion at all.

Now, in a time when America has invaded other countries and we have sent our troops to foreign soil, forcing people my age to make life or death decisions, I think everyone can learn something from Steve Irwin's death. Now, more than ever, as a young person in this country, the future seems balanced on a pin, ready to roll either way. Who knows what tomorrow may bring: An attack by foreign terrorists? A stabbing by a sting ray? Or some semblance of peace in the world?

Nothing, we should remember, is ever certain. If today is our last day, may we all be remembered as Steve Irwin is: as a good person, alway trying to do the best we can, looking ahead to the future with a baby under one arm, battling the crocodiles with the other, glad every second to be alive.

Today I was talking to a girl I knew in high school. We weren't really friends or anything, and I won't pretend to say I know her all that well right now, either. In high school she was categorized as goth/ alternative girl, though it simply meant that she wore Converse sneakers before Avril Lavigne took them mainstream and she wore a vintage dress from the fifties to prom.

Now, if this were a teen movie, someone (a popular girl or a decently handsome boy) would have noticed Lucy for the individual she is and helped her become cool. Lucy's other friends, the alterna-goths, would become resentful of Lucy's newfound fame. but in the end, Lucy would remember where she came from and everyone would co-exist happily together. The end scene of the movie would be the popular girl showing up to school with her hair dyed pink like Lucy's, or the popular boy shaving his head into a mohawk for prom, where he would undoubtedly sweep up Lucy in the spotlight and they would share one magical -- choreographed to the last step -- dance.

But life is not a teen movie, and, as Lucy as I remembered today: "High school sucked." It did. And we came to the agreement that anyone who disagrees, who says high school was the best time of their life, or says the dreaded, "I would do it all over again" was surely one of those mean people who made high school a hellish existence.

Now, don't get me wrong. I had some great times in high school. I met lots of great friends and laughed more than I was upset, but I would not go back and do it for anything.

(And when I say "one of those mean people" I mean the kids who thought they were so much better than everyone, or felt a glimmer of pride if they talked to someone like Lucy and me, as if we were charity cases and it was an honor for us to be graced with such a conversation.

And if you're sitting there thinking: but not every popular person was mean, you're right. If you're thinking, I had friends from all sorts of groups and I was popular, think again. Someone hated you. Someone resented you. You made fun of someone, not in an evil way, but just in passing. But to that person it meant a lot. So deal with the facts: you were a mean kid.)

We talked about senior year, when Lucy made it on prom court, though she ended up losing to a pretty, popular cheerleader, who was also black (because if we elected a black prom queen, we were being progressive -- forget those cliches about racist Ohio). Lucy and the others were all lined up and paired off, and told to dance. But her date left her standing alone. He went off to be with his girlfriend. Which is fine - except that all the other girls were dancing with their partners. Even Lucy's nomination was handled like a joke.

She's not bitter about it, though. She looks back on the whole thing as a funny story to recount, a way to validate her notion that high school does, indeed, suck.

It was cool, I guess I'm trying to say, listening to her anf talking and knowing that high school is not the end all, be all it's sometimes trumped up to be. It is what it is, and in the end, you look back at what happened and you thnak God for your friends and the really good memories, and then you turn your back to it all and keep stepping foward. You take one step and then the other and you don't worry about what used to be. It's all about what is, and what will be.

Lately, I have been setting off the alarms in stores when I come in and go out. For example, this morning on a trip to Target, I set off the alarm coming in. So I shopped with hesitation, knowing that when I left, the alarm would go off agin and I would have that one moment of sinking humiliation. And sure enough, when I left, the alarms went off. Now, even better was the expression of the elederly lady walking behind me. She literally looked shocked, as if 1) she couldn't believe someone as nice looking as me would steal and 2) she had a brief struggle in her midn of whether or not she should get involved. What she would do is beyond me -- take a flying leap and tackle me? Beat me down with her ugly granny purse? I'm not sure. But. . .

So then I head to Barnes and Noble and sure enough. . . Beep! Beep! So, again, I shopped with terror, knowing when I left the alarms would go off. Fifteen minutes pass and I am walking out with some coffee (i know -- I have become that pathetic college student who walks around Barnes and Noble with a Starbucks coffee -- I am a corporate brand whore, i guess) when the alarms go off. The doors are right by the row of registers, so I stepped back (setting off the alarms again) and said to the nearest clerk: "The alarms went off. I didn't steal anything." Which was obvious. For once I did not buy any books, All I had was the coffee.

And get this: the guy shrugged and waved me through. He didn't even look up, like it was a normal occurance. So I started to wonder what exactly set off the alarms. To the best of my non-Nancy Drew skills, I was able to deduct that the most likely suspect was my flash drive, which I carry around on my keychain (warning: this is another sign of a dorky college student).

But I use my flash drive and like to keep it handy? Is it worth the embarassment? I do not know.

Driving home, thinking back on the casual way the clerk had shrugged me off, I started to wonder if the alarms perhaps meant something else. logically, this makes no sense, but think how cool it would be if alrams at the front of stores went off whenever someon good looking or worthy of attention stepped through the doors.

Then I'd be okay with my beep beep-ness. In fact, I would welcome the sound, as long as everyone knew that the sound was not to indicate a theif (which I am clearly not) but a VIP.

(Okay. now I must go throw up from the cheesiness of this all. Forgive me.)

So, in the past week or so since I last updated, here's what I've doing:

I finished Draft #2 of The Heights (a complete rewrite)

I started my new WIP

Read many many many books.

Sorry this is so short. I am very tired. One week before school starts, so I am trying to do as much as I can in these last few days.

Okay. A more comprehensive update tomorrow.

I cave in to peer pressure. I hope someone finds this interesting.


1. One book that changed your life.

Look at Me by Jennifer Egan. Amazing.

2. One book you've read more than once.

Many many books have been read repeatedly. I especially love Upstream and Swollen by Melissa Lion more and more each time I read them.

3. One book you would want on a desert island.

I'm going to have to copy Sarah Dessen and choose Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. It sounds good, but I don't think I have the strength to lug that whole book around.

4. One book that made you laugh.

Crash Diet by Jill McCorkle.

5. One book that made you cry.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Johnathan Safran Foer. The end of the novel was about as good as it gets for me.

6. One book you wish had been written.

Either Catalyst by Laurie Halse Anderson (the most perfectly structured novel I've ever read) or Lost In the Forest by Sue Miller (I never reached a point in the novel where I noticed Miller was writing -- the story just flowed perfectly). Or Melissa Lion's novels. So good. So dead on.

7. One book you wish had never been written.

What a strange question.

8. One book you are currently reading.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levitan, Enna Burning by Shannon Hale

9. One book you have been meaning to read.

I have a pile of 29 books to read this school year -- top of the pile is Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant by Anne Tyler

10. Tag five people. I don't know 5 people in LJ land that haven't done this meme yet.

(If you click on the picture, it gets bigger. Click on it again, and it gets huge. Ridiculously huge.)

I got my copy today of the issue of MudRock with my story in it. I won the 7th Annual MudRock Short Fiction Contest with a story I wrote in a short story writing class. Seeing it in print is a little unreal, to say the least.

I must only stare at it for a few minutes though. Then I need to get back to my WIP and the comments from my critique group. (Speaking of: the first time you read through a critique, it always sucks. I wish there was some way to improve this, but. . . ouch. Must remember that everything will make the story better. Still . . . ouch. But it is also great. I just need to get over my ego and look at what th critique is really saying.)

Okay. Have a great night!

38,593 / 50,000 (77.2%)

I have been trying to follow Shannon Hale's advice for writing: 5,000 words a weeks. This should break down to 1,000 words a day, Monday through Friday, with Saturday left over to make up for any words you have not reached. So far it's been better than I expected. It also helps plan out how much longer I will be working on this draft.

I wrote a terrible first draft of a short story, which I am revising and have an idea for another, plus my ideas for WIP2 and something else, something so out of the normal for what I usually write. So . . . I want to get this draft done.

Okay -- I've done my words for the day and I am exhausted. I need sleep.

In my experience, the YA writers community is loving, sharing, supportive and generally set upon one goal: to put out the best novels/poems/whatever for young adults (and whoever else will read them). But, every once in awhile, I stumble across someone so mystifying, so. . .

I know this is immature, but I'm young and foolish, so take a look at this person's blog (btw, it is my personal belief that if you keep a blog that is open to the public to read, you should be open to any criticism about it. I will certainly understand if anyone reads this and decides I am a big loser):

On Judy Blume, who was given a Nation Book Award for her contribution to American Arts and letters:

"I once read a book written by Judy Blum. She’s an icon of children’s literature. I can’t recall the title; I’ve tried to forget it as much as is possible. But, it dealt with a teenage girl going through some kind of coming-of-age experience. In her book, Blum talks very explicitly about sex, even to the point where she describes what specific body parts do during sexual arousal, even to the explicit description of the sex act, as the girl loses her virginity with a teenage boy.
I couldn’t finish the book. I felt it was pornographic. This is an example of what I feel we DON’T need to be writing for our youth."

Yes -- this person did say Judy Blum. And I believe the book is Forever. But then again, i do read that type of "pornography."

On the banning of Carolyn Mackler's The Earth, My Butt and Other Big, Round Things:

"Should we encourage school libraries to include Playboy or Penthouse magazines, or even pornographic videos and magazines? By not including the book in the school’s library doesn’t mean the kids in school can’t read it, or buy it, it merely means the school doesn’t sanction or encourage it. Saying a book can't be in a school doesn't mean no one can read it. If parents really think their child needs a book that glorifies immorality, they can ***Gasp*** buy it!"

Well -- I think a YA novel and nude women touching themselves are two very seperate things, but...

And, at last, this person's wisdom on the use of race in YA literature:

"I recently read several young adult books by a black author, I can't remember her first name but her last name is Draper. She has wonderful books. I loved them all. Very exciting, suspenseful, realistic, and very well written. The setting is a city in modern-day United States. However, she does not have ONE white person, or anyone of any other ethnic group mentioned in any of her books as far as I could tell. Do I condemn her as a racist? Never. "

Well. I guess we're all the more educated, now that this point has been made. And the author is Sharon Draper, and indeed her books are excellent.

So -- call me a crabby guy, but right now I'm wondering if this blog is a joke that someone has made up. I do hope so because otherwise. . . I just need to get back to writing.

So, as I continue to revise my WIP (which in this case means totally writing a new draft -- I wrote draft 1, then completely discarded it and called this new version draft 2 -- confused? I am a little, too) I have decided to share my iTunes Mix (for right now). Keep in mind this all changes depending on what scene I am writing and such, but:

The Heights

More Than Anyone Gavin DeGraw
Moses (Live) Coldplay
Kill The Messenger Jack's Mannequin
She Is The Fray
Barely Breathing Duncan Sheik
Brick Ben Folds Five
Saint and Sailors Dashboard Confessional
Annie Waits Ben Folds
Rescued Jack's Mannequin
Brand New Way Rhett Miller
How To Save A Life The Fray
Fallen Sarah McLachlan
Bruised Jack's Mannequin
the dawn's request Duncan Shiek
Save Me Aimee Mann
We Remain as Two Page France
Say Goodnight he Click Five
The Luckiest Ben Folds
Cry James Blunt
Here's to the Night Eve 6
The Lights and Buzz Jack's Mannequin
Come Around Rhett Miller
Only You Yaz
Colorblind Counting Crows

So at this moment all very angsty, heartbroken songs.

What are the songs you are listening to right now as you write?

Hope to hear from you all --- Beach

27,414 / 50,000 (54.8%)

Wrote for a few hours last night with the iTunes going and horrifyingly sad expression on my face the whole time. Not because the writing wasn't going well, but because I was right there, just letting it all come out on the page. Truth be told, I'm a little scared to read back over what I wrote. It's always that feeling, though, isn't it? You write in this semi-unconscious state and then you find yourself going back over it and wondering -- who wrote that?

Okay. Off to walk the dog and then off to work (my real job).

Have a good day and write write write --

Beach

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, or myspace bulletin.

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!!!

It's International Blog Against Racism Week! So, if you're white, black, brown, yellow, red, orange, blue, green, or whatever color...get involved!
Here are the instructions:
1. Announce the week in your blog.
2. If you have an livejournal account you can switch your default icon to either an official IBAS icon, or one which you feel is appropriate. To get an official IBAS icon, you can make up of your own or go visit Oyceter's blog and pick up one of the general-use ones she’s put up. (As I did)
3. Post about race and/or racism: in media, in life, in the news, personal experiences, writing characters of a race that isn’t yours, portrayals of race in fiction, review a book on the subject, etc.

So, unlike some other people who are sharing their wonderful personal stories, I decided to tie Blog Against Racism Week in YA literature, as best as I can. In fact, I'd like to applaud a few authors, including E. Lockhart (who has a fantastic blog herself) for putting muti-ethnic characters into her novels but never making race an issue.

For a while, as I read YA novels, I noticed the disturbing trend: an author would feature a character of non-Caucasian race in their novel in order to make a commentary on racism. Whether this was the main plot point or a side plot, racism in some form would be an issue.

While I agree that part of the fight against racism should an open discussion, I think another factor is is portraying characters of various beautiful races and not NOT making a commentary on it. I have friends of every single race imaginable and you'd be surprised how very often we discuss this difference between us.

So fellow authors out -- be brave and make your novels beautiful by filling them with people of all shapes and sizes and colors and beautiful wonder nationalities and traditions and cultures.

Have a great day -- Beach

Have you ever had one of those times when you think. . . not possible? Seriously?

Let me explain: I've been working on Draft 2 of The Heights for about 5 weeks so far, and it's going good. In between spurts of writing I cruise the web. So, I'm looking on amazon.com at various books, and see Nailed (I forgot the author... my bad). So I read the synopsis, trying to figure out what the book is about, and discover the love interest's name is Kylee. Which is cool, except my girl's name in the WIP is Kylie. Now, this is not a big deal or anything I thought about for a second. I mean, I didn't even know this book existed when I started the first draft almost 6 months ago.

So then I'm bowsing, looking up John Green's new novel, and disover that the best friend in the novel is an Arab-American named Hassan. Which is cool. I really think that's cool, especially since my novel has an Arab-American best friend named Hassan. Now there's no way I copied this. Today was the first day I found out what John Green's novel is about.

I know this doesn't mean anything, but I was left wondering. . . karmic slap in the face? Just an uber-coincidence? What is going on, people?

Okay. Off to write. (Must resist the tempation to use the FIND/REPLACE button and change Kylie to Rachel [Oh wait -- what about Martin Amis' The Rachel Papers?] and Hassan to Alex [which I'm sure is in some other novel and I know isn't an Arab-American name])

... Gosh

Just a quick note on how my 2nd draft is coming along. Since so much has changed, it feels a little like writing a whole new story, but it's also comfortable in the way an old bedtime story feels fresh even when you know how it ends.

20,078 / 50,000 (40.2%)

Been thinking a little about what to do next -- made some notes and taken lots of pictures because my vacation was such a place of inspiration.

Okay -- back to writing.

Well, I am back from vacation, but now housesitting at my sister's house. This past week has been filled with some amazing things --

One -- I had someone read my first chapter of my WIP and the comments I recieved were so spot on and wonderful. I can't even describe my gratitude.

Two - in an earlier post I talked about how much I loved the two YA novels Melissa Lion has written. This is still true. She should be on every must-read list. Check out Swollen and Upstream. So -- I jut checked my comments, like I usually do, and I found a comment from "Melissa Lion" saying she was working on her third novel and that she was glad I liked her books. Now, if it was really her -- I am flabberghasted and shocked that she somehow found my little page and actually took the time to comment. And if it was her -- write faster! If it wasn't, and who can really be sure nowadays -- then I don't want to know. Thinking that one of my favorite authors actually found my LJ is too good to ruin right now.

Okay. Back to writing.

Beach.