Friday Flashback: The Last Trick-or-Treat

I heard a story on the news the last night about how some small Ohio town is making it "illegal" to trick-or-treat if you're older than 12.  Punishment comes with a $100 fine.  Pretty stiff punishment for a kid trying to score some free candy.  But then again, it's not cool when the older kids push the little ones aside in their race for a sugar high.

(That's me on the right - age 14.)

The story made me think back to my own YA days.  How old was I when I stopped trick-or-treating? I must have been younger than 14, because that year, while my best friend and I dressed up in matching genie costumes that her mom sewed for us, we went to the fairgrounds to celebrate.  It was supposed to be cool with a haunted house and all that, but it was actually pretty lame.  I'm pretty sure we spent a decent amount of time in the bounce-house, trying to hop while making sure you genie tops didn't fall off our non-existent chests.  (Ah... the good old days.)

But, I honestly can't remember the last time I donned a costume and went door-to-door collecting the good stuff.  Sixth grade? I dressed up as a 50s roller-skate waitress and my cousin was a 50s poodle skirt girl.  (Okay, trick or treating with roller skates is awesome, by the way.)  But after that, I just don't recall.  How sad it that?  No wonder I love Halloween so much as an adult.  I'm making up for a wasted youth!

When was the last time y'all went door-to-door (for yourself - not your kids) on Halloween?  Were you YA or MG?

Never-ending Scene Blogfest

Sorry to be posting late!  Here's one of my favorite cliffhanger scenes from DESTINED (in about 415 words).  By way of background, this book is a retelling of the Cupid & Psyche myth and is set in ancient Greece.  At this point in the book, Sadie is either going to have to marry a wretched outcast or Cupid. The worst of the worst or the best of the best, right?  Her father, King Darion, has traveled to Delphi to get the Oracle's prediction (the oracle is also called the Pythia).  This is the moment where we watch Darion get the prophecy to determine which path Sadie's life is about to take.

Oops... and I forgot to mention-- check out Brenda Drake's blog for the rest of the entries!

Darion approached Apollo’s temple slowly, carrying the lyre on outstretched arms before him. He looked as if he expected the god to reach down and personally accept the gift. But as he stood in the shadow of the massive temple, Darion’s fleshy arms began to weaken. He was forced to present his tribute at the base of the temple. Like everyone else.
    

He led a procession of supplicants around Apollo’s temple to a side entrance. There, Darion crept down a set of stairs that descended into the Sanctuary of the Oracle. The room was dark and damp, the flickering lanterns barely illuminating the cavern. Its silence was punctuated only by trickles from the stream running through channels in the floor.  

Darion approached the screen separating him from the Pythia and placed his hand against the coarse fabric. Cupid shared Darion’s anguish. The girl on the other side of that screen held both their worlds in her hands. Darion’s forehead dipped until it too pressed against the screen. A tear spilled from his eye. Cupid held his breath.

A priest cleared his throat nearby. “Sire, the Pythia is waiting. You need to ask your question.”

Darion raised his head, but didn’t back away from the screen. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Pythia, sacred maiden of Apollo, I come to learn the fate of my daughter, Sadie. What lies in store for her?”

The Pythia sat silently on her tripod, pinching laurel leaves between her soft fingers and gazing into a cauldron of still water. Slowly, deeply, she inhaled the vapors rising from a crevice in the earth. Her low-ceilinged chamber filled with the intoxicating scent of the god, swirling around her, inviting her to taste immortality. The light, tinkling sound of the sacred stream filled the cavern as she waited to receive Apollo’s message.

The Pythia began to sway as she balanced on her tripod. Her arms stretched out to the sides, palms up, letting the leaves fall away. Seconds ticked by and Cupid felt his heart thud its every beat in his chest. Suddenly, the Pythia erupted in a peal of laughter, throwing her head back with such abandon she would have tumbled from her stool if an alert priest hadn’t caught her.

“Get ready,” the priest whispered to Darion. “It’s coming.”

Eyes rolled back in her head and panting, the Pythia breathed out her prophecy. Foretold Sadie’s future.

Darion dropped to his knees as the Pythia collapsed into the priest’s waiting arms.

Flashback Friday: Flashes of Homecoming

This picture triggers so many memories for me.  Little flashes, each like a light bulb, sparking to mind a piece of high school tradition.  Now, I wasn't the most popular girl. Not a whole lot of school spirit particularly.  But in my senior year, when I had some real leadership roles on campus, my interest in homecoming rose significantly.
* I remember making "fluffies" in French class; then spending hours at the fairgrounds overseeing the construction and painting of the float I'd designed (it was a pirate hanging by a noose from under the Arc du Triumph with a Tiger-turned-Peter Pan standing in front).  The theme was Disney and our rivals that year were the pirates.  It worked out pretty well.
* I remember buying my dress while on a debate trip to Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, N.C.  That's one way to assure no one else has the same dress as you...

(GRAINY! This is what happens when you take a picture with your iPhone while pic is still in the old-timey photo album with plastic covering it. You get the idea.)

* I remember riding down the parade route in my step-dad's red convertible representing S.A.A.V.E. (Students Against the Aids Virus Everywhere).  I was the President that year and chosen to represent the club in the parade.
* I remember decorating the S.A.A.V.E. car (we weren't big enough to make a float) with a Sleeping Beauty theme that included drawings of a hypodermic needle and the phrase "block that prick."
Here's what I don't remember:
* the game
* being announced at the game and walking across the field (I only even know I did this because I just saw a picture.  Hump.)
* the dance
Which suggests to me as an author, that for teens, it's details and real slices of life that matter.  Things that seem so huge at the time are often lost in the blur, but activities to which you contributed and played a meaningful role stay prominent in our memories.
What say you??  Do the bigger events stand out, or particular little details?

Co-Authoring: Getting Down to Business

So, now you know how Nikki and I started our co-authoring process: meeting, doing character profiles, and outlining.  This week, we're going to tell you how we shared our writing responsibilities.

Rather than assigning chapters, we took days. Or parts of days.  Since we had a detailed outline, it was easy to say, "ok, you write day 4 and I'll take day 5."  We didn't just assign days since some days have a lot more happen then others.  It was more of an "I'm done with day 4, and I'm feeling inspired to tackle night 6 because I had a great idea for the date."  As we wrote, we'd pass our chapters back and forth.

I think I can speak for Nikki when I say we tried to go in to our own chapters and make them gel with the chapters around them as the manuscript went back and forth.  And Nikki created an ingenious way of labeling the files. It was: Beneath1-[last chapter #][NVK or JLH][date].  That way you can tell from looking at the saved title of the doc that you're working with your latest version or the latest version of your writing partner.

Being cross-coastal from each other actually helped, I think.  Since I'm three hours ahead and we both write at night, I was able to do my writing and pass it to Nikki before she started her writing for the evening. And when I woke up the next morning, Nikki's chapters were waiting for me.  (Although the outline made the chapters blend together pretty well, admittedly it was easier to write the next chapter when I knew exactly what happened just before that.)

Of course, if either of us needed to ease up on the writing schedule, or one of us had a burning desire to tackle a particular chapter, we went with the flow.  In my mind, being flexible and understanding was just as important as being like-minded.

Got any questions?  Any tips to share with us as we dive further into revisions? 

DESTINED: the first 250

Since I had so much fun on my last blogfest -- and since I just revamped the first chapter of DESTINED -- Elle Strauss's First 250 Words Blogfest arrived at the perfect time for me.  With pounding heart and sweaty palms, I present the *new* first 239 words of DESTINED.  I'd love to know what you think (and it doesn't have to be nice.  I'll understand.)

       My forehead rested against the wooden shutters in my room as I searched for the courage to push them open. I knew what was waiting for me outside -- and gods -- I didn’t want to go through this again. But I had no choice.  

My admirers were waiting.  

         “It’s time, Sadie.” Maia gave my shoulder a squeeze with her weathered hand. “Might as well get it over with.”

She received my weakest smile in return. Only because she’d practically raised me did I refrain from ordering her out. None of our other servants would dare rush me.  

I stalled by returning to my mirror and fidgeting with the tendril of hair dangling by my cheek. Not that I could’ve improved upon the style. Maia’d put the chestnut curls up in my favorite silver headband herself, which meant they were arranged perfectly. Same for the make-up I noted, rubbing my glossed lips together; flawless as always. I nodded and smoothed out a fold in my tunic. “Fine.”

Maia backed away from the window, inching closer to the mahogany door. Preparing me to face the horde was one thing, but I didn’t allow anyone in my room when I was pandering to the crowd. Not Maia, not my parents, and certainly not my sisters.

      Flinging the shutters apart, I was blasted with sunlight and deafening cheers. I flinched before forcing myself to smile, repulsed by the sound of my own name.