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I’m Back!

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Oh, hi guys. I took a quick break from blogging, but i’m back now. And better than ever!

Or something like that.

For a bit now, S and I have been house hunting. We love our apartment, but it’s getting expensive and we’d really like a little home of our own. Where I can paint the walls. And have 7,000 bookshelves (with moveable ladder, a la Beauty and the Beast). (Clearly I have priorities.) Last weekend we actually went out looking at houses with a realtor instead of simply perusing Trulia. It was weird, to say the least.

Perhaps it’s my background in literature, but I love to compare situations, make analogies as I go along. So as we went from house to house, I kind of realized what a literary agent must feel like.

Think about it.

Hundreds of people send agents their queries, small snippets of their greatest works, just as our realtor sent us tons of houses with small descriptions. We only chose the ones we really liked to go forward with, to ask to view. Of those, some we were really excited about and wanted more. Others, we rejected right away, annoyed with being tempted with promises that weren’t quite true. Eventually we came to one we just knew was perfect. We loved it, couldn’t get enough. Went back to it, just to be excited again. And now we’re going to make an offer.

And wait for the reaction.

And wait.

And wait.

Going through the query process was hard. Rejections are hard. But I never really thought of what it must be for agents. They get so many queries a day just to be tempted by a few. And then maybe one every now and then catches their eye enough to make them fall in love. It’s a lot of hope and let down for them, too.

Which, really, makes me so much more thankful for my agent. For picking me out of the possibilities. For liking me enough to visit again, and finally make an offer. And then wait to see if I’d say yes. And wait and wait and wait.

But things happen for a reason, I like to think. So of course I said yes. And I hope the seller will say yes to us, too.

Wow

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I’m completely overwhelmed by the responses I’ve received for my previous post. Whether its was a comment, an email, a text, or a Facebook message, just know that I seriously appreciate everything you guys have said. I didn’t post it because I wanted sympathy or anything, I just wanted to discuss a situation that not many people talk about. And, interestingly enough, the most common response I received was how the writer experienced a similar situation. How they were scared, too. How they’re okay now.

The thing is, I don’t think we should be quiet about something like this. I don’t think masses and lumps and Freds should be whispered about. Sure some people are private and what to keep private matters as such, but I want to shout it from the rooftops. I want to tell people that you’re not alone. That of the responses I received, 80% of the people either went through the same situation, or knew someone who has. Seriously.

We shouldn’t be scared to speak.

So, just know, I’m here. If you want to talk, or want to confide. If you want to share your story, your experience. It’s okay. Because the more we talk about it, perhaps the less scary it is.

 

Equals

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Last year my friend Ernest met Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth. He didn’t recognize them immediately, that is until a few people pointed it out. But if you know Ernest, you know he has this amazing ability to make everyone feel like a friend. He didn’t freak out, didn’t treat them like rich, famous celebrities. Instead, he hung out with them as if they were me, as if they were S. They ate, drank,  had a great time, and even ended the night with a dance off . (You can read the full story here.)

Now, I’m not mentioning this to brag about my cool friends (although, you guys, I have really cool friends).

When I started teaching years ago, I was told to treat my high school students like, well, teenagers. Like kids. And in a way, sure, I did. I wanted to protect them, teach them, nurture them. But when talking to them? No way. I treated them like adults. Because you know what teens hate? Being thought to be children. Being talked down to. So instead of belittling them, I treated them as I’d treat my friends (only, you know, in a more professional, teacher-appropriate way).

And it worked. I had some of the most amazing students, many of which still message me with brilliant updates. We had a mutual respect, but they were never afraid to tell me about problems they were having, or colleges that accepted them.

I’m bringing the same thought to librarianship now. I’m in charge of reviving teen programming at the library and for the past few months i’ve been talking to our teen patrons about what they’d like to have here. What kind of programs and books and movies and things they’re interested in. And you know what? I’ve met some of the coolest teens in the process. One talked to me about YA mysteries for 20 minutes. Another high fived me for being a fellow nerdfighter. Another even confided in me that school kind of sucks, but books make her happy. A co-worker laughed at me (in a good way), commenting on my innate ability to relate to teens. And I loved that comment. You see, not once did I treat any of the teens like children. I treated them as equals because, you know, they are.

I take this approach with writing, too. I won’t write down to teens; never will I assume they can’t understand, or can’t grasp a concept. Because they’re smart, more mature than many people think. They are our future, after all.

So here’s my advice for today: treat everyone like a friend. Be nice, be equals. Don’t talk down. Because you never know when it will lead to an inspiring moment, or a new friend. Or, even, a crazy dance off.

A Winner and a New Friend

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The winner of The Mockingbirds is…COLURE! While her answer is not the title of Book 2, I’m considering re-naming it now. I mean, how could “Three Serious Wacked-Out Babies” NOT sell?

Congratulations Colure!

Thanks to everyone else for entering. Expect a new giveaway soon!

—

Now, I would have announced the winner sooner, but I had a slight problem this week. I’ll explain.

Over the past few months, I’ve developed a bit of a morning routine. I wake up at 6 am, shower,  eat breakfast/drink coffee/write until I have to finish getting ready for work. It’s really great; I love starting my day so relaxed and creative. For me, words flow easier so early.

Anyway, Thursday I was doing my routine, getting a few words down for Book 3 (YEP! I’m holding off on editing Book 2 right now–rather let it settle and get this new sparkly idea down) when all of a sudden my coffee falls. Onto my laptop.

I screamed.

Have you ever seen a wet laptop? It’s the saddest thing. The liquid rolls down the screen creating tears. TEARS. I felt like a mother that just dropped her baby.

I went into SAVE THE LAPTOP mode and tried to clean it off as best as I could. S did some research and we took apart some parts and cleaned out others. Then, all we could do was wait for it to dry. So I went to work, saddened. When I got home, the laptop wouldn’t turn on. It wouldn’t the next morning either. It was dead.

I took to to the Mac store and was pretty much in tears. I mean, it was over four years old, it had a good life, but still. I wrote my books on it. It still worked really well. It was my child! (Okay, not really, but you know.) Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do. So I had to say goodbye and buy a new laptop. (Thank goodness for savings.)

So here’s what I’ve learned from this experience: back up everything (thankfully I did, and then the Mac people showed me how to convert my old hard drive – which worked! – into an external hard drive); have extra money lying around in case you do something stupid; and never, ever, ever drink around a laptop.

Ever.

So, goodbye MacBook – you were a great friend and loyal electronic device – and hello MacBook Air. You’re cute and tiny and I’m excited to get to know you. I promise to take care of you, and not allow a beverage within a one mile radius.

Librarian Lauren

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As it turns out, Mad Men me looks an awful lot like Librarian me. Go figure?

I started my new library job today, which was really exciting. One of my assignments was to announce  my Harry Potter house, so clearly I fit right in. (Hufflepuff, according to Pottermore, by the by. You?)