Back at home, lots to do.

I am not going to apologize for being away so long. I might choose to apologize to people who are waiting for email replies from me. We'll play it by ear.

We're recently back from a weeklong stay in New York, specifically on Long Island. We hardly got into the five boros at all, frankly, outside of trips fro and to the airport. Still, it was loads of fun: there's the food (of course, always the priority in my mind--Eddie's, bagels, Chinese, Green Cactus, and of course Thanksgiving dinner), the family and friends, and Sam playing with his cousin, also around one year old, from out in California. It's a shame cousins so close in age will spend so much of their youth so far apart. Still, though, fun.

The flight back with the very tired and restless and loud Sam? Not so fun.

There's some book news about to break as well (personal appearances, a trailer, final cover . . . boring stuff like that), but for now it's under my hat. I will announce right now that, beginning with an exciting guest post in the next few days, I'll be holding a contest here at the Exile. The winner will receive an ARC of The Absolute Value of -1, signed not only by moi, but also but several Tenners. If all goes according to plan, the signers will be the same Tenners whose guest posts I'll be hosting. Details to follow this week!

Anniversaween Weekend

This morning, for the third time, Beth and I enjoyed the amazing brunch at St. Paul Hotel's main floor restaurant, the St. Paul Grill, no relationship to the St. Pauli Girl.

This is a tradition of ours. You see, we were wed at the St. Paul Hotel three years ago, as I noted recently herein. But specifically, our wedding was a Sunday brunch affair. Hence, the tradition!

It's also one of the best, most decadent brunches we've ever had, anywhere, period.

Today I had the country breakfast, of which I will spare you the details because you'll be so jealous you'll probably devour your own arm. The point is I couldn't breathe afterward and the whole family slept for like three hours this afternoon.

The other feature of our anniversary weekend this year was, of course, Halloween. It's probably my second favorite holiday, behind Thanksgiving, and sometimes I prefer it outright. This year, I did up the porch something fierce, with sound effects and special lighting and a scarecrow -- the whole nine. Also, to spare us the hassle of dealing with a barking and snippy Jack Russell, I handed the candy out through a huge poster of a skull -- the mouth of which I cut a slit into -- that was covering one of the big windows onto the porch. It was hell of creepy.

Anyway, our anniversary weekend is now over. So, one last time: happy anniversary, sweetie.

This post is also a test of my attempt to feed all entries in my Livejournal. Let's see if it works.
[ETA: Okay, it totally didn't work. But I also totally know why. Next time, it will work.]

image from http://undead-art.deviantart.com/art/Together-Forever-zombie-love-54566305

Full stack

Here's the thing about pancakes:

If you're hungry, and someone announces they're going to make pancakes, you're like, "Awesome. I love pancakes. I can eat TEN. Make at least TEN for me." Or if you're on your way to breakfast on a late Saturday morning, you're all, "Man, I am getting a FULL stack of PANcakes, because I love pancakes and I can eat like TEN right now."

Then the stack shows up. You dig right in, after application of ample butter and syrup, of course. Five, even ten bites in, you're still trucking. It's so good. Every bite is delectable (I mean, unless they're totally crappy pancakes--I'm looking at you, Neighborhood Cafe). With each bite, you're certain you could eat pancakes for the rest of your life, nonstop, and never get sick of pancakes.

A switch suddenly flips in your gut. It says stop. Stop eating those pancakes. But your head is still in its pre-pancake mode. It replies, "No, no! We said ten pancakes. We will eat ten pancakes!" Your mind continues forcing your arm to move that damn fork back and forth, back and forth, your gut shouting, or anyway mumbling as best as a rock-laden gut can: "Stop! For the love of all that is holy, STOP."

Finally the gut wins out. It's not like the head says, "You know, you're right." It's more like the blood supply to your brain is far too slow at this point for your mind to do any strenuous work, like fork manipulation. Your arm is probably numb.

The pile of pancakes on your plate is embarrassingly large. You wonder if the server will ask if anything was wrong with the meal, or, god forbid, if you want to bring the rest home. You stare at the mutilated full stack. The butter and syrup have cooled and coagulate in pockets here, and there. The cakes themselves are stone cold. Even if you were fresh to the table you wouldn't want them anymore. As you feel now, you could wretch at the sight of them. You poke at the plate, then let your fork drop, even letting the fork's handle fall into the cold syrup, knowing full well that will make it completely useless.

The point is we went to Highland Grill last night for dinner and I got pancakes.

Tonight, the AE and I and some other folks from Carolrhoda are meeting with the TKBs for the second time. Very excited and nervous. Updates tomorrow.

Not for the squeamish

I didn't want to blog about this. Frankly, the whole episode would be better forgotten. Of course, if facebook statuses mean any posterity, it's far too late for that.

This was my facebook update yesterday morning:


I was out walking Harry, our faithful if irritating terrier, when about two blocks from home I was accosted and chosen as host organism for a horrible beast. Its new domicile was of course my left ear.

The two block walk was difficult. Every so often, the little expletive would flap its tiny wings, presumably to remind me it was in there and that it essentially owned me. Upon feeling and hearing these flaps ("The calls are coming from inside the house!" has never been so poignant), I would -- I believe quite understandably -- freak the hell out somewhat. Which is to say, I'd scream and slap myself in the ear.

I can only imagine what my neighbors must think of me.

Upon reaching our house, I (can you guess?) googled "a bug is stuck in my ear." One suggestion included "stick a blade of grass in your ear." I suppose that sounds . . . reasonable? But in my panicked state, I read "stick a blade OR grass in your ear." That sounded downright insane, so I tried a different site. Before I had a chance, however, my new little ear friend decided to do some serious flapping of wings. I screamed in a very manly way, and then woke up Beth and the baby to explain very calmly what was going on.

A few things we tried, thanks to Beth's clear head, helped. Among them: flushing the ear with water. This helped the little expletive get one . . . ugh . . . wing out of the ear canal. Beth, coyly, spotted the wing but did not fully let on that the creature living inside me was indeed a moth. She knew this would upset me. She did, however, suggest I stand next to a light.

That's when I knew.

"Ohmygod it's a freakin' moth!"

I won't get into the hoary details of my screaming and flailing and insisting everyone back away, no sudden moves, et cetera. Suffice it to say, just as I was getting ready to head to the ER for a mothectomy, the thing crawled out and fell to the bathroom floor.

I then killed it with tremendous passion and loathing. I think even Roo will understand.

It was a complicated day after that. That is, despite this unquestionable low point in the early morning, it turned out to be a good day (we bought Beth her new laptop), then a very good evening (we had supper at the Lakeside with many a Bracken), and then a freakin' amazing night (an author whom I respect and admire has agreed to blurb YA Novel the First, and sent me an amazing email telling me so).

FTM, revealed!

Finally, if you'll glance slightly to your right, the classified acronym has been revealed. Stone Arch Books newest series of chapter books, the Field Trip Mysteries, authored by yours truly, was so fun to write, so well designed and illustrated, I can hardly bear it. In fact, I'm in the middle of submitting the next four in the series!

Seriously, I just love the art by C.B. Canga. Get a load of these covers.





































In other news, edits on YA Novel the First are done! The manuscript, still untitled, is now being sent around for blurbs. My heart is inside out with apprehension and excitement. Aforementioned Editor and I will now discuss titles and cover ideas. I also want to note that the best titles that will come from my end of that conversation were thought up by Beth. She is much better at this than I am.

Oh, also we took this little trip out to New York to see fam and friends, so there was that. Boy, did I eat. Seriously. I can hardly remember anything else. Eddie's pizza, of course (twice actually), plenty of the more typical New York-style pizza, one hot dog from Papaya King, a burger and shake from COZY Soup and Burger (best shakes in the city, hands down), loads of bagels, and plenty of other great, great food. I don't want to think about it, because I'm pretty sure I gained twenty pounds over seven days. The airline should have charged me for an extra carry-on, I kid you not.

Going back east, sans laptop

I am saddened, for two reasons:

1. I lost a follower on this blog! I'm back down to 30. Sadness. I think I get a few followers here who aren't terribly interested in anything I have to say but are merely hoping I'll follow them back. I get a tremendous number of such followers on Twitter, too. Oh well. Good riddance, I suppose.

2. My laptop--aka, the most important inanimate object in my life--is in dire need of repair. The display simply doesn't work, 9 out of 10 times I try to start it up. And that 10th time, it usually goes black after a few minutes. The thing is still on warranty, so I'll have to ship it out to Dell and wait for it to return to me.

I am cheered, as well, though. For beginning Tuesday of next week, my family will spend a week in New York! This is great for all the usual reasons (i.e., food), but also because we will finally meet Sam's cousin Jaden, born to my brother and his wife in California way back in December!

With any luck at all, my laptop will be back in my possession shortly after we return home in early July. Then I can get cracking on YA MS the Third, which I am re-excited about after a long discussion with my agent yesterday. Oh, and YA Novel the First? I have to write the two tiniest little passages you ever heard of, which I'll probably do this weekend on Beth's laptop (using it right now!), and then I do believe the editing portion of our show will be over. Woo! Then it's final title, cover ideas . . . I can't stand it.

Oh, and speaking of early July, here is a public service announcement: Please, if you live near a family with a dog, don't shoot off firecrackers or fireworks. Thank you. Oh, also if you have fingers.

Perfect Thursday

Another week has simply flown by, hasn't it?

It really did go by quickly, and frankly at the moment I can't remember most of it. I'm fairly sure I haven't done my 5000 words for the week, per Purple Clover's challenge, but I am going to take write night tonight, so hopefully I can come close.

How much flashback is too much flashback? I find flashbacks to be an excellent device for maintaining suspense, especially in dramatic and realistic fiction. It worked well for the likes of Jellicoe Road, and Sweethearts, and my own YA Novel the First and YA MS the Second. My current WIP, though, might be taking it too far, with a full three separate eras that need concentration: the first summer, the second summer, and the present day (literally, just the one day). I'm having trouble making this work. My goal yesterday, during an unexpected and most excellent half WYAOD, or WHYAOD, I managed to outline every crucial event in chronological order. Now I simply need to weave the times together into a fabric that will maintain suspense without jarring or confusing the reader. It will be a job of work, a lot of me sitting in coffeeshops, staring into space, and going, "Hmm."

Rather against my typical coy attitude with regard to my WIPs, I sent a few pages -- maybe 20% of what I've gotten down -- off to my agent for his opinions. I look forward to hearing back, but it will undoubtedly be a long weekend while I wait.

Oh, and after a great afternoon of cycling and writing yesterday (including lunch at Hiawatha Pizza--that dude better stay in business!), I met up with Beth and Sam at Punch for more pizza. I believe, by the way, that cycling, writing, Beth, Sam, and pizza are the sum total of the interests listed on my Facebook page. I'm not sure pizza is there, but it certainly ought to be. Which makes yesterday the perfect day!

In other news this week, I joined a new crit group, strictly online, with a group of four other gentlemen (a term I'm using very loosely). I have a feeling we are the only crit group of all guys working on literature for young people in the world. We'd have to be, according to the statistical odds.

What's up, Doc?

Some news.

First, the release date for Novel the First is set for Fall 2010. Because the Imprint is part of a larger company--a company that is in fact a school and library publisher--we're looking at a two season, even two-release-date, schedule: January or July. So Fall 2010 essentially means finished books next July. (Release, btw, does not mean in stores; it means at the warehouse and available. Or it did at S&S, anyway. I can only assume.)

I learned this last night, over my first-ever editor lunch, albeit a dinner. It was at Ngon, which I am still not confident trying to say out loud. But the food was fantastic. I had two appetizers, including the tofu lettuce wraps, and one other that I won't mention because I think some people who read this might faint or never speak to me again if they find out I ate rabbit. Oops.

But I'll definitely eat at Ngon again, and they're even baby friendly. There were like three babies there last night, actually, and Editor mentioned he and his wife brought their own baby there too. He liked the pho. (Baby did, I mean. Though I'm sure Editor did too.)

In related news, I have become a Tenner. This thrills me more than you can imagine. If you want to get an idea of how awesome they are, look at all the comments in my first entry. They are a supportive and welcoming crew!

Some links this morning:

Head over to Carrie Jones's blog, because she waxes poetic about my new agent and her deep affection for him!

Jay Asher, rags-to-riches author of 13 Reasons Why, has a great little post today in answer to the question "What is wrong with these kids today?!"

Finally, someone up and bought kidlit.com! I suspect it's going to be big, what with the excellent URL. I recommend subscribing to the feed now to stay ahead of the mob.

Lots of food!

It's snowing this morning in Saint Paul. When I got into bed last night, it was raining. I remember turning the corner onto our block, finishing up Harry's nighttime walk, and thinking about "Aprille with his shoures soote," feeling glad that, according to Chaucer, it was a very springlike night.

Now Father Winter is punishing me for my hubris.

But I actually came in here this morning to say something else. There are many, many phrases and words on the list of keywords that directed people (via Google, mostly) to this blog. Among them is "be patient and tough," tied with my own name, which I think is unfair because "be patient and tough" ought to send people to Peter Cameron's site, if an author's at all other than Ovid. At any rate, my favorite keyword is:

jewish rye loaves at cecil's, st. paul

I think that's wonderful! It really sums up the heart and soul of this blog: what can a Jew do in Minnesota when he needs to get down with his Jewish bad self and have some back-east love? (That and being a writer, obviously, but anyway.) Well, since that search, or a variation of it (involving the question of Jewish rye at Cecil's), has occurred twice since February 1st, I will answer the question.

Yes, Cecil's on Cleveland Avenue in the Highland Park neighborhood of Saint Paul, does have great Jewish rye, with seeds, and a nice dark Russian rye, not to mention a great marble rye, if you're into that sort of thing. They also have terrific matzo ball soup, and they make egg creams with real Fox's U-Bet chocolate syrup. So while they are (obviously) not kosher, if you're like 99% of the Jews I've ever known, you probably want kosher style, not the real thing, because otherwise you can't have an egg cream with your pastrami on rye. (Oh, ps for the hardcore: they also have Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray Soda!)

Oh, and the latkes are HUGE. Be warned. They are not for the faint of heart.

And since I'm here, why not ramble on about food? As mentioned previously, Beth, Sam, and I went out for supper on Friday night to El Meson in Minneapolis. Terrific! Although I was at first a bit stressed out, because it looked like a pretty adult place (ie, not entirely as baby friendly as I'd thought), everyone seemed okay with Sam's being there, and a few other patrons under the age of ten eventually showed up, putting me further at ease. (As it happens, Beth ate most of her meal with Sam on her knee, but she was okay with it.) My entree (a grilled pork chop; it was the special of the evening) was excellent. The last time I'd had a pork chop was over a year ago, and that one had not been so good. Pretty sure I was slightly ill from it. But the real winners at El Meson, from our experience, were the appetizers we got. We shared a ceviche that was amazing, something called peras, which were pears, stuffed with brie, and wrapped in Spanish prosciutto, and a fresh tomato, avocado, and queso fresco salad called a Dominicana. We could have gotten one more appetizer between us and been very happy with the meal, I think.

Maybe next time we'll just get tapas. You get to try more things that way.

Stumped

It's Friday! This evening, in celebration of the book deal, I'm taking Beth and Sam out (or maybe Beth is taking me and Sam out) for dinner at El Meson. We haven't ever been there, but it's so rare we get the chance and excuse to try a new place. Plus, it seems they don't mind babies in the dining room. Big plus.

This morning I registered for the Loft's Festival of Children's & Young Adult Literature & Illustration. At first, I was thinking, Why bother? I've got my book deal. But then I decided, heck, a conference got me here, and I can never really know enough about writing, specifically for teens, nor about the business itself. Plus, I can never really get out there and meet people enough, which is something I occasionally need a good kick in the rear to do at all. So what the heck. So I won't register for the Paths to Success panel specifically about getting that first deal.

My first contribution, such as it is, is up on the Spectacle today. (It's not an entry I wrote, merely the clues I contributed for this week's Stump the Bookseller.) Click over and try your luck! No one's gotten it yet; we even had to add some bonus clues.

It's poetry Friday today, which is something I have never really taken part in, mainly because I don't think I know enough poetry, nor enough about poetry, to really contribute anything. I was thinking about dropping a poem on you today, but then I got scared of copyright infringement and decided not to.

So thanks for stopping by.

One for you, nineteen for me

I know you're all itching to hear how it went with the tax professional yesterday, so here's the scoop: excellently!

Our last two visits to the tax professional left us in small panics about getting our taxes paid. Since I work for myself and have no money automatically deducted, we always owed. (Also because I couldn't get my act together with the whole quarterly-estimated-payments thing.) This year, though, I was very good, and at the end of my meeting yesterday, we just about came out even. After paying the tax pro himself, we stand to get back about a hundred bucks. That's pretty damn perfect.

See, sure, everyone likes to get their tax refund. It's like free money, after all. But in reality it's the government paying back an interest-free loan you made to them over the course of the whole year. That doesn't seem fair! So the ideal situation, I think, is ours: I deduct my own taxes, put them into a savings account, and only pay what I have to. It really worked out great! My goal for next year is a big fat "zero" at the end of the appointment. Or better yet, the exact amount the tax pro charges.

(Of course, as it happens our government needs all the interest-free loans it can get right now, so maybe I'm thinking about this wrong.)

In other news, if Sam and Beth ever wake up from this nap, we're going out to lunch today. I'm supposed to be thinking of a place to go, but all I can come up with are burger places, like The Nook, Blue Door, Groveland Tap, Highland Grill . . . and I have a feeling Beth won't be feeling any of those. My guess is she will suggest Tanpopo, the Japanese noodle shop she swoons over. I like it too, very much, but I am just obsessed with burgers lately. Maybe I'm anemic.

After lunch, I'm doing some write-time, though I think it's will have to be 100% Eric Stevens work. He's got this basketball title due on Tuesday, and it just refuses to write itself.

Oh, and finally, my next break from WoW begins Wednesday. Why do I keep scheduling my last day to be on server-maintenance day?! Why?!

Coraline 3D, spoilerish

Thanks to MIL and FIL, last night Beth and I finally got out together, sans Sam, to see Coraline, in 3D no less.

It was fantastic. I can't recommend it highly enough, and if you're reading this on Sunday, this is your last day, as far as I know, to see this in 3D before the Jonas Brothers take over the 3D screens. Maybe you have until the weekend. Not sure. But don't pass up the opportunity to see it in 3D.

My review? Well, it gets an A-, since getting an A is nigh impossible. There were several changes from the novella, including minor ones (like no ghost picnic dream) and major ones (Wybie), but they worked, for the most part, to translate this into a feature-length movie targeted strongly to kids. And Wybie, though at times sort of irritating, was, when silenced by the Belledame or whatever, one of the creepier aspects of the Other world.

All in all, I will very likely want this on DVD, if DVDs exist by the time Sam is old enough to see this.

Oh, also we went to Maverick's for supper before the movie. Delicious as always, though some more time to sit and order from a server and such would have been nice, rather than the fast-food style of Maverick's. But still, no complaints. So good.

In other news . . . well, no other news, I don't guess. Snow emergency in effect in MSP. Move your car if you haven't already.

Half year baby time

It's nap time here in a second, but I wanted to drop in quick with these pics of the Samster. His six-month birthday was yesterday, and Beth marked the occasion by snapping a photo of Sam based on one of the more popular pics of him from when he was a newborn.

Here's a newborn photo:



Here's the six-month photo:




Right now he's on the kitchen floor in his Bumbo enjoying his first meal of avocado. He keeps going, "Oooommm," which we are taking to mean "delicious."

Six months!

Thursday! I can hardly contain my excitement.

Here's the news from Lake Stevebethandsam. Tomorrow is Sam's six-month birthday! With it came his well visit to his doctor, a day early, this morning. He is in good health, as I learned last Thursday, you undoubtedly recall. He is fifteen pounds and five ounces, 26 inches long, and has the head size of a grown man, essentially. Huge headed! I think that's probably why he's a little late with the sitting without support.

Also, you can rest easy knowing that the too-hot-cup-of-coffee-sleeve thingies are no longer unitaskers!



They are also this baby's favorite toy.

In other news, I was up at 6 and at the dentist's office at 7 am this morning for a routine cleaning and exam. It was without question the least bad one of those I've had in about ten years, I'd say.

Tonight, being Thursday, will be my night at the DBC. I am giving YA MS the First another look through, fixing some minor consistency issues that are bound to arise when one covers the same timeline three times from different POVs, and then sending it off to Aforementioned Editor once again.

I think at that point, the revisions in earnest will probably begin.

No news on the agent tip yet, natch. I expect I'll hear from at least one of these people next week. Maybe? I hope?

Ooh, Beth is making rice and beans for supper tonight. It's a recipe I taught her many years ago, and that she improved over the years to the point that I no longer think of it as my recipe and much prefer it to the shwaggy budget meal I used to whip up for myself and my vegan apartment-mate back in the late 90s. I too was vegan at the time, if you're wondering.

Digression over!

Blog post over!

Foods that ooze

Our Valentine's Day turned out great, even though exactly nothing went as we thought it would. For example, earlier in the week, during our excellent heatwave, we'd discussed walking over to the local library so Sam could enjoy story time. However, since the heatwave was over, we decided instead to head out for the great Minnesota pastime of winter: Mall-Walking!! We went to MOA, spent an epoch looking for parking, and then spent maybe a nanosecond in the mall itself, which was insanely crowded and we wanted to die. So we left. Leaving the parking lot took about as long as parking had.

So now what? It was already late afternoon, and we still hadn't had lunch, so we figured a late lunch was in order. But don't you have to start calling it "dinner" if it happens after 5? Well, we went to Groveland Tap, right here in Saint Paul, which we love, and I had my first-ever Jucy Lucy, so that nice. Very nice. It was a fine burger, the finest I've had at the Groveland Tap, actually. And the idea I've heard (probably at A Hamburger Today, but I don't feel like finding it) that a JL has to be overcooked otherwise the cheese won't become molten is utter nonsense. This burger was perfect: pink in the center around the oozing amazingness of melted American cheese.

But I digress. This late lunch/early supper blew our Chinese takeout plans out of the water, so we went without any dinner, per se, and went straight to dessert! I whipped up some molten chocolate cake. The cake oozes with rich deliciousness when you poke it, just like my burger did at dinner! For your viewing pleasure, before and after pictures are included in this entry.



So that was V Day! It was fantastic.

Today, my main complaint is that after two hours of writing nonstop at the DBC, I have exactly nothing worth saving, except as a character study in big sister. So, not entirely unvaluable, but certainly not satisfying. I'll do more in the morning, hopefully something worth keeping, if I find the motivation.

Valentime!

A Valentine's Day update.

Beth, Sam, and Harry are still in bed. Harry was good enough to wake me up at around 7:30 because he had to use the great outdoors. Of course, when we got back to the house after his walk, he climbed right back into bed and fell asleep. I am not so good at going back to sleep, so I've spent the last couple of hours thinking about what to make for breakfast once my wife wakes up, and goofing off in Northrend. Could my life be any richer??

I kid, of course. My life is the greatest.

We've said no gifts for V Day this year. This got me thinking: If my life were a sitcom or a romantic comedy, both of us would have gone to a friend, individually, or to a trusted but doofy cousin, or the like, and been convinced that when one's better half says "no gifts," they really mean "gifts." However, since my life is not a sitcom, nor a romantic comedy (though it is often funny and at times romantic), I am trusting that my wife and I are not so silly. So we will exchange cards and smooches, but no gifts. I think also we might get Chinese delivery from the place nearby that most resembles New York City Chinese takeout places. Which for the record isn't necessarily the best Chinese takeout. But moving on.

I'd also like to get some writing done today, which of course makes one wonder, Then shouldn't you be writing right now, while the whole family is sleeping, instead of blogging and killing brain cells in an MMO? Yeah, probably.

So. . . . Back to work: what should I make for breakfast?

(It's like scrambled eggs with wet matzoh mixed in)

Say what you will about Jewish cooking--nothing but white starch with salt and schmaltz--but we have some damn fine comfort foods. Matzoh ball soup, hot pastrami on rye, potato latkes, chicken in a pot--these are seriously comforting foods, owing in no small part, I suppose, to the fact that so many grandmothers serve them.

Anyway, my point is, I'm having matzoh brei for lunch right now. I am in need of comfort. Fact is, I'm feeling pretty stressed out of late, and though the first item on my list of things keeping me up at night (quite literally, I'm afraid) is now done (give it up for my first historical fiction--albeit very recent history), I still have, among some minor items, this very difficult Wednesday night class.

I honestly thought I'd have it easy, as far as schoolwork, this semester. I'm only taking the one freakin' class. But it's a job of work, let me tell you. I missed the first test, which was last Wednesday, when I was already in New York. Well, last night the professor returned those tests. The results, since he announced them before returning them, were positively dismal. I have to take this test in the next couple of weeks, once I can figure a way to get down to his office without hauling Sam along with me.

Now I live with a fear I haven't felt since my third year at SUNY Binghamton, when I foolishly registered for a class called Vietnam in Literature, or something to that effect. The professor then was an angry, shouting man, with far more to say about the United States' policy in southeast Asia than about literature itself, of any subject. It frankly wasn't what I'd signed up for, but I learned this too late and got my only grade lower than a B in my whole college career.

Well, I'm rambling. I'll just be patient. Someday this pain will be . . . yeah, yeah.

Sun goes down, it's Tuesday evening. . . .

How many times would I have to get a small shock from the static electricity of the just-finished dryer before worrying about permanent damage?

I think I am making a greater effort on my latest SAB/Eric Stevens assignment, perhaps because its focus is the recent inauguration, and I am considering posterity.

I hear it will reach 40 degrees this Friday. That should be nice.

And speaking of nice, the in-laws will be here tomorrow, noonish, and I will finally be able to get downtown for lunch and try My Burger. I'll let you know how it is.

Also, heard from Aforementioned Editor, and we will meet next Thursday to further discuss YA MS the First. I will say nothing more about it until after that meeting. Between now and then, if you hear about writing, it will be completely SAB or YA MS the Second. Unless I foolishly start a new project. But I won't.

I'm off to Northrend for a little while. Wish me luck.

Wrap

I'm letting myself off the hook for skipping so many days. I think since I was out of town and out of wifi for most of the long weekend, I can be forgiven.

SCBWI NY 2009, wrap-up report! My favorite thing about the conference was this, which I purchased right before leaving on Sunday. It's essentially a conversation between SCBWI founder Lin Oliver and YA book factory Richard Peck. They discuss writing, often technically. I watched the entire thing on the flight home and found it fully riveting. I recommend it to aspiring novelists and YA enthusiasts. I'm not sure how or where you'll be able to purchase it. Someone mentioned the SCBWI website is going to be relaunched soon; hopefully it will be available there.

Other than that, I think I didn't take advantage of the conference as much as I would or could have if not for familial obligations interfering with socializing time, on Friday evening, for example, or during Saturday night's wine and cheese event. Next time I attend a national conference, I'll have to really keep the whole weekend open so I can attend such smooze-fests.

I did get to meet Brad Strickland, though, which was pretty cool. I worked on a couple of his series at S&S, so it was nice to meet him. He's a friendly and chatty fellow.

No new word from aforementioned editor. No fear, though. I have to work on this thing for SAB all day tomorrow and Wednesday anyway.

I have nothing to say about the Super Bowl. I will say, however, that Vincent's, on Willis Avenue in Albertson, makes much, much larger pizzas than I recalled. Quite yummy, though.

Oh, also, Sam was pefectly pleasant on both flights, for the most part. And any crying he did on the return flight was completely drowned out by the escaped eleven-month-old running wild on the plane. So that was nice.

And it was about 45 degrees in New York when we left. Beyond wonderful to feel that temperature in the middle of winter. Beyond.

Of course, we both (Beth and I) miss New York City terribly, and loved spending a couple of days with some time to walk around. But, as we drove across the Throgs Neck Bridge this morning on our way to Newark Airport, we had a few minutes to gaze at the smog on the horizon in every direction, aghast, and decided, No, we don't want to live here again.

Kudos for the new bike path on Broadway through Times Square, though.

On the Island

In New York now, and updating my blog from the seat at the kitchen table I sat in as a child every night for dinner. Unfortunately, there is not a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of me as there might have been during many of those years.

The flight was kind of a mess. First off, due to all the east coast weather yesterday morning, residual delays meant our 5:20 flight took off at around a quarter to eight. Not typically a problem, but we were flying into Newark, rather than Queens, which means a much longer drive home. We ended up landing at 11 pm, which had my poor aging mother schlepping to Jersey in the dead of night on unfamiliar roads. And of course it had me, after this insanely long day, driving from Newark on unfamiliar roads back to Long Island. Needless to say, I fell asleep pretty quickly. Sam and Beth are napping even as we speak.

Readkiddoread.com is up, from James Patterson, and I like it. But it doesn't have a section for kids who struggle with reading but don't want to be left with books written at kids younger than them. In other words, it needs some high-low and high interest: Jake Maddox style!

Anyway, we're off in an hour or so to our local kosher-style deli. Very excited.

Oh, and on the YA MS the First front, editor reports riveted, but that was Friday. I am expecting something more soon, and am appropriately excited. I have done essentially no work in almost a week now, with the exception of updating my resume and WIPs for the conference, mainly by adding yet another several sports/Maddox books and a little blurb about YA MS the Second. I need to edit it, however; it doesn't touch as heavily on the fantasy/supernatural aspects as I'd like it too. Here is the blurb! You can tell me what you think:

A Terrible Mistake
Jessamine Parson’s mother died in childbirth, and on the same day her grandmother was found dead and clutching a mysterious note: “There’s been a terrible mistake.” Nearly eighteen years later, Jessa is a foul-mouthed, socially inept, and extremely reluctant college freshman. She plans to spend as little time as possible living a typical college life, preferring to game away the hours in a violent and magical online world. But Jessa’s real-world college experience turns out to be more amazing—and dangerous—than the one she leads online.

Within days of starting her college career, Jessamine is already attracting more attention than she wants: Rope, the wiry resident assistant, seems to be around whenever Jessa needs help; Thomas Priestly, Jessa’s anthropology professor, makes an unexpected appearance in game; and fellow freshman Henry is having the strongest effect on Jessa of all—it’s something in his eyes.

WARNING: This book does NOT contain vampires.

I hope I can find a wifi signal at the conference.