happy birthday, MC

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday, so we've been scrambling over the past few days to buy presents and put together something (note the extreme vagueness, just in case she's reading this now. Hi mum!) for tomorrow night. In my week attempt to tie this back to writing, I was wondering, how does your MC celebrate their birthday?

I always order Indian food to go, and sit on the couch and watch a movie (preferably something funny and/or stupid). Harry Potter sits in his room at the Dursleys', eagerly awaiting presents and news from Ron and Hermione. Bella Swan probably stares at Edward all day.

Whoever you are and whatever your idea of a good time (ie: staring at Robert Pattinson) is, what you do on your birthday (and what you ask for, as presents) says a lot about you. The MC of the book I just finished, Lucy, spends her birthdays eating junk food and watching trashy movies at her best-friend-who's-a-human's house, then comes home to perform some birthday rituals with her Gran. Witches--crazy stuff.

How does your main character celebrate their birthday?

friday five: good things

Today was full of some wonderful stuff, so I'm going to try and resurrect the "Friday Five" idea, however briefly, with a list of good things:

• Breakfast. No matter how many times you say "most important meal of the day," breakfast is still seriously undervalued and often skipped. Here's to you, trusty cereal bowl. You make my mornings infinitely delicious.

• Sunshine. In April. This crazy natural phenomenon almost--almost--made me wish I was still taking PE. Then I remembered the sweaty change room, the horrendously embarrassing gymnastics unit, and my innate lack of talent for athletics. Still, the sun was nice.

• Libraries. Public libraries are like the universe's gift to completely broke teenage writer-reader-type-people. The only downside is that when a cute boy is working, I take out books that will make me look smart and interesting, rather than stuff I'll actually read...

• Weddings. I don't care if monarchies are largely outdated and symbolic rather than actually useful. I think they're darling, and a nice bit of history. Plus Wills and Kate are totally adorable. THEY HAD TREES INSIDE A CHURCH. So cool.

• Warm jackets on cool spring days. It's like curling up under your blankets--but portable! No way! Whoever invented jackets should run for prime minister, or something. Except they're probably dead.

Hope your 29 April was ab-fab, darlings. Have a lovely weekend,

Erika

The Dark and Hollow Places

If you haven't read the first two books in Carrie Ryan's brilliant, post-apocalyptic zombie trilogy, YOU NEED TO RIGHT NOW. They are not only extremely well written and thrilling--this post also contains some spoilers for the third book. So, run away and do some crazy reading. See you soon.

Please close the window unless you want some hardcore spoilers.

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There are many things that Annah would like to forget: the look on her sister's face before Annah left her behind in the Forest of Hands and Teeth, her first glimpse of the Horde as they swarmed the Dark City, the sear of the barbed wire that would scar her for life. But most of all, Annah would like to forget the morning Elias left her for the Recruiters.

Annah's world stopped that day, and she's been waiting for Elias to come home ever since. Somehow, without him, her life doesn't feel much different than the dead that roam the wasted city around her. Until she meets Catcher, and everything feels alive again.

But Catcher has his own secrets. Dark, terrifying truths that link him to a past Annah has longed to forget, and to a future too deadly to consider. And now it's up to Annah: can she continue to live in a world covered in the blood of the living? Or is death the only escape from the Return's destruction?


Carrie Ryan's trilogy, named after the first novel "The Forest of Hands and Teeth", is basically the ultimate combination as far as fiction goes: a fast paced plot that makes it impossible to put down, and a deep, often painful emotional quality that makes the stakes incredibly high.

Before I go on, we need to get one thing straight. I am terrified of zombies. The idea of them--the living dead--as an unstoppable, emotionless force that could one day take over the world, eating and killing everything in their path. Yeah, it freaks me out.

The zombies in Carrie Ryan's go by many names. Unconsecrated, Forsaken, Mudo, plague rats. They're slow moving and not too bright, but they move like a tidal wave, unstoppable and unshakable. The action in Ryan's novels is totally edge-of-your-seat, can't-put-down-even-to-cross-the-street good. This third book was especially amazing. The main character, Annah, is super strong and totally independent. She's willing to do anything to keep herself--and the people that she loves--safe. She's one of those people that you would definitely want to be friends with, but also never ever cross.

I think my favorite part of the whole book, though, is how little it sounded like someone had actually written it. I'm guessing that didn't make any sense, let me rephrase it: the writer was completely invisible. When there was narration, it was all Annah talking. I've heard this bit of advice many, many times, but I never really understood it until reading this book.

You just put yourself in their place, breathe with their lungs and feel the beat of their heart. And that's what Carrie Ryan did, superbly.

I'M DONE!

Yesterday night I finished the first draft of my WIP which is currently named Something Wicked. It's about witches, curses, boys, forests, spells, potions, spirits and other fun stuff. Okay, because I'm sure that gave you so much information, I'll have a better description for you soon. For tonight: No writing! No creating! No thinking outside the word document!

It sounds awful. It sounds like some kind of cruel punishment. But for tonight, it is just the kind of release I need.

Also, the rare second I wasn't working diligently on my WIP (ahem, actually, I think I qualify for a Nobel Prize in Procrastination), I found some cool interwebs-type-stuff.

• Letters to Dead People is a tumblr blog with pictures of, well, letters to dead people. It's a project started by Celine Song, but she also takes suggestions. It's a bit depressing, sometimes hilarious, and often unspeakably beautiful.
• Tim Walker, a photographer whose fantastical, bizarre pictures have been featured in copies of Vogue all over the world.
• Living Etc, a British home decor magazine that never fails to be colorful, original, and totally inspirational. Did I mention that I'm going to be painting my room this spring? Pink! Pink! Pink! I feel like Evie :)

And now, a little bit of everything:

Erika feels accomplished right now. I can't believe I've written two novels in my life. Maybe one day someone else will get to read them.

Hope you had a great Easter, everybody.

Erika

easter write-a-thon

This weekend is Easter weekend, which means a whopping four days off school. And tomorrow, the Friday of all Fridays, I am determined to finish my WIP.

I'm 38k in so far, and I have a rough idea of how I'm going to finish the whole thing. It's all about witches and potions and contracts that go back generations. When it's all done, I can give you guys a better description. For now, I just want to get it finished so I can hide it away and not think about it for a few years to come.

Anyways! Three simple steps to the perfect one-day write-a-thon:

1. A place to write. For me, this is my bedroom. It's relatively quiet, and away from both other people and a television (you have no idea how important this is for me).
2. A good breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day, right? So how are you supposed to battle monsters and cast spells without it? I'm torn between pancakes, French toast, or a great big bowl of cereal. Either way, there will be chocolate involved.
3. A plan. I know this is boring, especially if you're an all-out pantser. But I like to have at least some idea of where I'm going. My whole WIP takes place over the span of about two months, and I'm down to the last two days. With a little luck, I only have one more day to go before before it's all done.

I hope you can get some writing done over the long weekend--or, better yet, spend it with your family. And, when I do finish, I plan on rewarding myself with something wonderful and chocolate filled. Always a good way to get me through the day :)

Erika

30k

So I'm guessing it doesn't particularly matter to anyone, but I've hit 30k in my WIP. The word novel sounds so thought out and serious. This is not a thought out and serious affair. But I'm proud of myself, and I bought a new book to celebrate. I'll post about my TBR pile soon. For now, have a great Sunday :)

bad days

Today was a bad day in a succession of bad days. But, on the plus side, I finally understood what people mean when they talk about writing being their escape. Of course, writing has always been an escape for me--I got to imagine different people and places, and I got to be there rather than wherever I was.

But the physical act of writing down, of creating my own story, was really what got me through today. I loved knowing that, when I got home from work, I could disappear into my own world. It's a fantastic feeling--but I don't want my real life to suffer, either. What do you think: Does writing only act as an escape when your actual life is falling apart? Is it better to love the writing and revel in that happiness, or try to patch things up elsewhere?

For now, I'm going to sit on the couch, drink some tea, and write some words. It's pretty much my idea of a good time.

Erika

the language of trees

Oms mah God.

I read at a poetry reading last night. It was called "The Language of Trees" and took place at an art gallery, which was showing an exhibition all about trees. About twenty-five people showed up--maybe twelve people reading poetry, and the rest listening. Everyone was lovely and encouraging, and there were so many beautiful words but...

I was terrified.

Anyways, here's my official introduction that I came up with in about thirty seconds:

I'm 16 years old, and I've lived here my entire life. When I was about 8, my dad taught me the difference between coniferous and deciduous trees*. I thought I was amazing, that I knew these secret words that of course no one else did. Like this was some magnificent secret of the universe. This poem is about my brother, who is easy-going and wonderful. If he were a tree, he would be deciduous, his leaves swaying in the wind. And I would be coniferous. Solid, anxious, constant.

The glow of TV light
Shines on lost landmarks
The crooked curve of your nose--twice broken
From some ancient grudge against the universe.
You've skinned your knees more times than I can count
And you always lose at scissors-paper-rock.

It isn't bad luck.
Bad luck would be
Walking under ladders or
Driving the wrong way down a one way street.
But you were born with a flashing smile,
The only natural adaptation that
Will save you from predators and get you a date to prom.

You laugh it off
You laugh everything off
One day I wonder if your jaw will fall apart
From all this laughing--and
How will you cope with that?
You shrug.

You turn your face to the sun
A mask of freckles and
Honest green eyes
My friend, you were never far from perfect
If only you weren't too stubborn
To pull over
And ask for directions.

And my other poem:

I met you on the mountain top
Where the air is thin
And the ground is raw

We talked for hours
About the wind and the birds
And the gap between your teeth

There was no grass to fold beneath our feet,
No trees to carve our initials
And all our false forevers into

If you forget and I doubt myself
It will be like it never really happened.

Loads of love,
Erika

*Deciduous trees have leaves, and the leaves fall off in the winter. Coniferous trees have cones, and keep their needles all year--they're evergreens. Now you can know the secret too :)

“All men are children, and of one family. The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning.” – Henry David Thoreau

14 day anniversary

La, la, la, magic, magic, magic.

I've been tracking my progress each day for the novel I'm working on. It's pretty easy--just a simple table in a Word document where I record the date, how many days I've been working on it, that day's word count, and my total word count. And guess what?

Today is my two week anniversary!

Now, obviously, I should be spending this time working on my first draft (which, after 14 days work, is still a meager 16k), but I'm going to take a second to celebrate. Two weeks is kind of a big deal, especially because I've been working on this and this alone. That's a big commitment. It's not great--it isn't even good at this point--but I'm still writing.

Now, this calls for CHOCOLATE!

Love,
Erika