How I feel when I write a novel ...

Some people ask me: What is it like to be a writer? What does it feel like writing a novel?

Well, there's a lot of heart and soul that goes into writing a book. And sometimes, you lose yourself a little bit in the characters and the story and the drama.

So what does it feel like to write a novel? A little bit of everything. The proof is in the video.

Happy reading and writing!

YA Gets Real: New Girl

Harvey smirked, giving me a slick sideways glance with his dark brown, almond-shaped eyes. He slid his chair a little closer to me. We were in our homeroom in the science lab. I was surprised when he sat down next to me, but became even more surprised when he kept staring.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi?"

"What's your name?"

I swear my jaw dropped to the floor. Over the summer, I had gotten laser eye surgery, finally ridding myself of the thick bottle glasses that had framed my face since before first grade. But I was still the same old me. Same red braid off to one side, same crystal eyes, same fair skin.

"Anna? You know, the girl you've been in school with since we were six?" I inched my chair away from him, and it grated against the tiles.

He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down with keen interest. It practically made my skin run out of the room without me. "Anna ..." Harvey leaned back in his chair, rocking on two legs for a second as he switched his eyes to the ceiling. "Cunningham?" The chair slammed back down on the ground as he leaned onto the lab table.

"Harvey, jeez, yeah." I swallowed. My fingers curled around my bag, ready to run or hit him with it depending on whatever he said next.

"Huh." His eyebrows furrowed. Even when he looked confused, he was still fairly attractive. I mean, he was Harvey Orion, pretty much the pinnacle of the stars coming down and making a guy in their dream image. "You look ... different."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't have glasses anymore."

"Oh." He paused, frowning. "That must be it. So anyway, you're, like, really hot, Anna."

I continued staring at him with an arched eyebrow, not sure if that warranted a response. Surely he tried harder to date Sandra and Katrina, right? They were gorgeous. It had to have taken more of an effort than "you're, like, really hot."

"We should go on a date or whatever. You know?"

"No, I don't know." I grabbed my bag and stood up. "We've gone eleven years of our lives not speaking to each other. Why don't we make it the full twelve. Okay?" I turned to leave, but he snagged my arm.

"Anna, don't be like that. Just because I didn't recognize you doesn't mean-"

"It means everything, Harvey. I was invisible to you just because of my glasses." I yanked my hand back and shook it like his were hot coals. "I would never date someone as shallow as that." I went to the front of the room and slid into another seat.

Just as I did, Rebecca whispered a little too loudly to her neighbor, "What's the new girl's problem?"

I banged my forehead against the desk. This was going to be a long start to senior year.

- - -

YA Gets Real is a parody young adult flash fiction series where my main characters experience typical tropes that you can find in Young Adult Literature. I love Young Adult, but I use this series to turn the typical encounter on its head. If you like YA Gets Real, consider sharing it with someone you know would get a kick out of it. Check out all the past stories here.

Book Reading: Hipstopia

I have a feeling that reading out loud is something that you get better at with practice. For the first time ever, I can be seen reading Hipstopia, my YA dystopian satire about hipsters taking over Los Angeles.

I was definitely a bit nervous, as this hasn't been something I've even attempted in the past. But I'm fairly happy with my first attempt. Enjoy! And happy reading!

YA Gets Real: Wizard School

The rolling hills fly past us as we head down the lush landscape and into a deep valley. I'm adoring the drive, and my mind rushes with the ideas of how the next four years will play out. To think, my parents had been keeping this a secret my whole life.

"We wanted you to grow up as a normal girl," Mom said.

"That meant keeping your past a secret from you." My dad nodded.

I grin as I look up at the clear blue sky. All of those things I read about were true. The fantasy books they gifted me as presents were hints, and I never knew how real they were until my parents confessed everything a few days ago. They had signed me up for my first year at Harringtons, a school for girls who are training in the magical arts. They had handed me a brochure which featured this great stone building, and it looked magical.

We turn onto a long drive and come to wrought iron gates. My dad presses the small red button, and the intercom comes on. A lady on the other side greets us cheerfully, and the gates swing open. Our car carries us all the way up the gravel path to the steps heading into the main gorgeous building on campus.

I step out of the car with my backpack on my shoulder and slam the door shut behind me. I take in the large steeples, the antique window frames, and warm stone of the structure. The building looms over us, but feels welcoming and cozy just the same.

My mom helps me get my two bags out of the trunk and gives me a wide smile. Something about it feels strange though, because normally her eyes light up. Maybe she's sad about me going away to school. "Honey, I want you to know, we love you." She pulls me into a hug.

My dad presses his hand on my shoulder, which is about as affectionate as he'll get these days. "Do you want help inside?"

A woman with a clipboard comes out from inside Harringtons. She has a pen tucked behind her ear, and her hair is pulled taut away from her face. "You must be Delilah."

Both of my parents back away from me, as if this woman is going to burst into flames. Perhaps she can.

"We'll be seeing you on holiday." My dad slides into the car, and my mom hesitates with her hand around the handle.

"I have in my paperwork that your parents told you about Harringtons."

I turn back to the woman and nod, eager.

The lady glances at my mom and gives her tight-lipped smile. The engine of the car starts behind me, and the gravel shifts underneath the car as they pull away from the building.

"I'm Mrs. Sutherland, and I'm afraid I have some grave news." She swallows, and my face falls. "You see, we're a boarding school. Just a regular one."

"But ..." I scrunch my face up. My parents had been telling me about my past for months. There had to be some kind of a mistake. "What about the brochure?"

"We made them so parents could convince their kids to come here. You see ... Most children don't want to come to boarding school, so at Harringtons, we decided to make the transition a little easier." The lady stands upright and looks down her long nose at me. "We do have some of the best classes and professors this state has to offer. And most students who graduate from here go onto do amazing things."

"But nothing magical," I say, crushed.

"Nothing magical. Just the wonders of the natural universe, I'm afraid." Mrs. Sutherland laughs to herself. It's high and tinny, but I don't get the joke.

She turns and heads up the stairs, carrying one of my bags with her. I grab the other and trudge in her wake, counting down the days until I could scream at my parents.

As much as I'm mad at them, I'm more angry with myself for believing them. Magic. Yeah, right.

- - -

Oh man, I wish Wizarding School existed in real life. I've been in love with the idea of being called to an adventure most of my life. This is probably why I read and write as much as I do, and go out hiking when the weather will let me.

Thanks for reading YA Gets Real! It's a parody series that takes some of my favorite YA tropes and turns them into something more realistic. Although this one is pretty silly in itself.

If you want to read about people learning about their supernatural abilities, consider some of the following titles:
 

YA Gets Real: Invisibility

No one could see me. I was standing in the middle of the crowd at the park, and no one bothered to look my way. I finally did it. I found a way to become invisible, and this moment was the most glorious of my life!

I threw my arms out and tilted my head back, indulging my face with the warmth of the sun. The breeze blew around me, making the fine hairs on my body tremble. I needed something more; I needed to push the limits.

Glancing around, I did a little jig, something someone would have to acknowledge if they could see me. I thrust my hips around in a wide circle, jumped up and down, and did what few swing steps I knew. Still, no one spared me a glance. Everyone was on their way to work, busying themselves on their phones. Everyone was blind to me.

Because I had succeeded.

Grinning, I pulled off my shirt, tossing it into the nearby fountain. Without me, my shirt would probably look odd, suddenly appearing out of thin air. But who cared? No one could blame me. No one would figure out who I was.

I unhooked my bra and tossed it into the fountain too. I spun in a circle, loving the caress of the outdoor air. Finally, I reached down to undo my jeans, but two hands clasped around my wrists, forcing my arms behind my back. I stifled a scream and blinked.

How could he see me? Did he have powers too?

The police officer pulled me towards his vehicle, growling something about protesters. He shoved me unceremoniously in the backseat, and I wanted to cry. My potion hadn't worked on this man, but why? No one else had looked at me, so why him? Why someone who could ruin my life?

---

I waited in the holding cell by myself, being the only minor there. They had given me a large sweatshirt to pull over my head. The spell had obviously worn off in the car ride over. I sighed. Showed what I knew about magic, and how long it could last.

"This has all been a misunderstanding." My ears perked up at the sound of Dad's voice.

"A misunderstanding? Your daughter was tearing her clothes off in the middle of Central--"

"I understand what she was doing, but you have to understand she's off her medication. She always thinks she's a wizard when..." he continued talking, but my blood boiled.

No, Dad. I don't think. I know, I thought bitterly.

"And why would a wizard get naked in public?" The cop sounded bored.

"She believes she can make potions that actually work, and if a wizard could become invisible..." Dad was probably shrugging, even though I couldn't see him. But whenever his voice trailed off like that, he shrugged, as if that would explain everything.

"Fill out these forms," the cop scoffed.

I shook my head back and forth. None of them understood. It had worked, albeit for a short time. No one had seen me. I could have done anything at all. The medication blocked my powers. Why couldn't they understand that? If they put me back on it, it was goodbye powers, hello mundane high school life.

I kicked my feet out, bouncing slightly on the spring-filled cot, anxiety pulsing through me.

"You crazy?" One of the women from across the way asked. Her gray eyes narrowed.

I shook my head, frowning. "Not crazy, just... powerful."

The woman nodded. "I was powerful too, once. But they always take it away."

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes intended to make you smile on your Monday morning. I adore YA books, as a reader and a writer. These stories are fiction, but provide a possible alternative to scenes from stories we love.

A few titles I enjoyed where the MC has a special ability (linked images):

 Adult title: 

YA Gets Real: Four Years Later

This is a bit of a continuation from one of the earlier YA Gets Real posts called "Chosen One." Read it here!

---

A knock sounded on our cabin's front door, so loud and harsh that it shook the nails in our walls. I snatched a frame, steadying it with my fingers. Our wedding photo, a bit of a rarity these days. There was one photographer who knew the art of developing film, and he hadn't told anyone else the secret.

"I'm coming," I yelled at whoever was on the other side of the door. Once the banging stopped, I nudged the corner, straightening the photograph.

Crossing the room, I opened the door wide, no longer worried about who might be on the other side. The villages were like that—peaceful, serene, neighborly.

But my heart stopped beating at the sight of Beltrov standing on the other side. Beltrov, who I had left behind to fight a battle I didn't want to be a part of. Beltrov, who still held that stupid "you're the chosen one" sword in his hand.

"Jude," he said, smiling. His voice was more pleased than I could ever make mine at the sight of him.

My eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" The question slid from my teeth like a snake's hiss.

"Well, we won the war, despite your lack of help." He stepped closer, crossing the threshold of my cabin uninvited.

"So I've heard." I frowned, crossing my arms.

"And I figured you and I could pick up where we had left off." Another step, and now we were a foot apart.

I stayed still. "You figured that after four years, and after I left the war behind, you could come in here, announce the fact that you won, and then court me?"

His eyes darkened and his expression soured, as something in his brain slowly kicked into place. Beltrov may not pick up on body language very well, but he read my sarcasm loud and clear.

"You wouldn't choose to be with me? I finished the war so we could have a future inside the city." He waved at the cabin's wooden interior, lines creasing his face as if it were the most disgusting thing on the planet. No, he wouldn't like the villages. Beltrov thrived in the violence of the city, which was why he stayed to fight.

"I didn't stay because I hated the city and the society, Beltrov. The fight wasn't worth it to me." I shook my head. "Besides, it's been four years. I've moved on, and so should you."

His eyes widened, bewilderment invading his features. "You've moved on."

I held out my hand. "Married and everything."

Beltrov leaned to the side, looking beyond me into the cabin. My husband wasn't home, and thank goodness for that. He was nice and naive. A gentle man who wouldn't know what to do with Beltrov's quick temper.

As it stood, the vein in Beltrov's forehead throbbed as he ground his teeth together. "You are giving it all up... for this?"

"It's been four years. What did you expect me to do?" I leaned against the wall. "Not even one letter, Beltrov. I wrote you dozens of times."

"I was a bit busy." He frowned, stepping back and opening the space between us.

"Well, things have changed. I've changed, and I like where things are now." I shook my head, not knowing what else to say. At least I was being honest.

The puzzlement stayed on his face, muddling his features. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Well," he started, pausing to collect his thoughts. "It seems we are finished then."

"Yeah. It seems so." I nodded, not having the heart to remind him we were finished four years ago.

He nodded once, pressed his lips into a thin line, and turned on his heels. He marched away from the cabin, heading back towards the city—the city I only saw illuminated at night during the explosions of war. With the war over, I'd probably never see the city again, or any of the people living within.

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes. These fun shorts should make you smile on your Monday morning. I love YA books, as a reader and a writer. Still, there are some tropes that deserve to become real. While these stories are still fiction, they provide an alternative, possibly more realistic, version of scenes from stories we love.

How it feels...

You know when you first buy a book?  Or you pick up an old book that's been sitting on the shelf for awhile?  You know how you try not to be noticed when you smell it?

That's kind of how I feel today.

Except I don't care who sees me with my nose so far in my book that I might as well be snorting it.

The proofs of "My Summer Vacation by Terrance Wade" came today.  I sent two copies to my dad - one will reside with my grandmother.  She's my last grandparent - and she told me on Thanksgiving, "I hope to be around when your name is in print."

And now it is.

Terrance wasn't originally intended to become a paperback copy - but my grandma kind of sealed the deal with that comment.  I love her to pieces, and after she said that, I needed it to happen. 

Getting the copies today in the mail was amazing.  They are thin - as a novelette would be.  It stands at 50 pages.  But heck, I think they are 50 really fantastic pages, and it is only $3.99 for a copy of the book, which will be only $2 more than the ebook.

I say it is quite a steal for 50 pages of good content, especially since magazines sometimes are more than $4 each.

Anyway, you can get the paperback version yourself from CreateSpace.

Or you can purchase an ebook from Amazon or Smashwords.

I will be here in my room smelling my book until I fall asleep.  And if you are an author and haven't smelled one of your books yet, you should.

Published and Giveaway!

Remember that post I made way long ago about how I was going on a self-publishing adventure for "My Summer Vacation by Terrance Wade"?

Yeah, I barely remember that post myself, but the point is - I've done it.  I'm proud to announce that my not-quite-novella (aka novelette) is published and available on Amazon or Smashwords!

In addition to this super fabulous amazing news, I will be adding good news to it!

You know that Winter Giveaway that's still going on?

Well, each winner within the giveaway (there will be five winners) will receive a free ebook copy of My Summer Vacation by Terrance Wade.

 How's that for gifting before the holidays?

Now, if you don't know what Terrance Wade's Summer Vacation is all about, you should read this super awesome blurb:

Terrance’s dad always said, “Never let your mother through that door.”  So when she comes in through the window, Terrance figures it’s okay.

His mom says, “Terrance, your dad doesn’t want me to show you the world. But we’re going – tonight, now."

Terrance, a naive yet astute 7-year-old, doesn’t know he’s being kidnapped by his mother.  Instead, he thinks she’s a secret agent, and he believes they’re on a mission to save the world. 

If that's not enough to get you interested, let me tell you why I personally loved writing Terrance.  He's absolutely silly.  He's one of the silliest kids in the world.  He constantly finds ways to undermine his parents (unknowingly), and he frequently misunderstands things.

It's currently priced at a small sum of $1.50.  It's 15k words, and I firmly stand behind the "99 cents per 10k words" philosophy.  If you don't feel like buying it, but are interested, you should head over to the giveaway and enter!  There's five chances to win (the two hardcover contests close tonight)!