First lines

The topic of the night at this Wednesday’s SCBWI Schmooze was first lines.  We discussed the importance of a first line that grabs you and all the elements the first paragraph of a book can convey.  I thought it was a great discussion.  I love memorable first lines and I usually don’t start writing until I have a first line that sticks in my head and won’t go away.  The line might ultimately get revised, but it’s what gets me building momentum to get the story off the ground.  The problem comes when there are too many first lines and not enough time to write all the stories!

Do you have any tricks to get your creative juices flowing?

70 degrees

Dear Weather Gods,

Thank you.  Thank you for the gorgeous sun-baked weather of this week, for temperatures warm enough for me to wear a t-shirt.  It’s been nice rolling the car windows down and listening to the sounds of the road.  The jade plant outside my door has been thrust into riotous bloom.  People everywhere walk lighter.  I am happy.

Love,

Tanya

Fail

Yesterday I joined Ian in one of his favorite new “wear Riley out” activities. Basically he straps on his Rollerblades and skates around our parking lot in circles, holding Riley’s leash. My dog thinks this is the best thing ever and runs around with glee, tongue out, happy drool flying.

I decided to document this moment with my cute little Canon digital elf camera. It’s a great snapshot camera and I get good quality video out of it. After a few photos and videos, Ian skated to the side to take off his skates, handing Riley’s leash to me. Unfortunately, Riley saw Ian’s skating away as a sign to hurry up. Riley went running, jerking the leash and jolting me forward.

In a spectacular display of grace and coordination I fumbled the camera. Out of my hands it went, banging onto the pavement of my parking lot not one, not two, but three times, squarely on the lens. There was a fleeting moment of hope – maybe I didn’t break it. Alas, two seconds later came the alarming beep of the camera. “Machine error,” flashed the screen. “Check lens.”

The lens and camera body had scratches and dents. And the lens wouldn’t retract. Game over. It was a very sad day. I’m now trying to determine whether I want to spend $80 to fix the lens or just buy a whole new camera. Either way, I’ll mourn the loss.

To check out more failures, visit the fail blog.

Random thoughts on fruit

Navel oranges – they creep me out.  They taste so good but the orange baby tumor is so so weird.

Additional evidence that my dog might be the devil

While my dog, Riley, has a lot of charm, he’s also caused his fair share of chaos and mayhem.  The latest proof of Riley’s deviance comes from Ian’s experiences walking him during the day.  Apparently there is a blind man in our neighborhood who has a seeing eye dog.  Around every other dog this seeing eye dog is perfectly normal – calm and well behaved.  But when Riley comes trotting down the block, the seeing eye dog goes ballistic.  He starts jumping around and barking non-stop, causing the poor blind guy to yell at him.  Service dogs are trained to be especially steadfast, so you know that he’s incredibly tweaked out by Riley to be behaving like that.  Ian has tried crossing the street to avoid the dog but nothing works.  Once the seeing eye dog has caught wind of Riley, it’s all down-hill.  I think this is proof of Riley’s ability to annoy just about anybody and personally I think he likes it.

I came, I wrote, I submitted

Woohoo!  I just sent off the first chapter of my YA manuscript to a literary agency and I’m thrilled.  There’s some sort of relief in having done it.  Now I can move on to other projects, which are rapidly piling up on my desk.  There are always about six stories running through my mind, so I can shift focus a little bit for the next few weeks.  Cross your fingers for me!

Fun Contest – Win Free Photos!

Hey everyone, I just wanted to let you know that my lovely husband is currently running a contest over at his blog.  The rules of the game are simple: make a mention of his portfolio site and then let him know.  Everyone who participates will be entered into a drawing for a sexy matted print.  The photo was shot with his new Canon 5D Mark II and the details are amazing.  Go check it out for more details – the contest ends at the end of January.  Good luck!

Oh the horror!

People around my apartment complex sometimes have a hard time actually throwing their trash into the trash bins and not just in their general direction.  This poses a big problem for me because my dog, Riley, is a class-act scavenger and will eat anything remotely resembling food.  The other day I went to take Riley for a walk and what did he go for?  A diaper.   With a giant wad of poop.  I’m too scarred to say more.

Baby faces

This week started off a new quarter at UCLA for me, and while I love learning I’m a teensy bit bitter about the encroachment into my personal time.  Between trying to finish my revision, work, and run a photo business, I don’t need the extra homework.  Okay, I’m a lot bitter.  I was on campus today and I saw a girl who looked super young and it got me all contemplative.  The young-looking people are everywhere.  Taking over the world, I tell you.

Now, I know I’m not that much older than most of my fellow students, but I feel older.  And when I see a campus full of baby-faces, it makes me wonder why there is such a difference.  I feel like when I first set out to college I definitely looked younger than I do now, but I didn’t look like jail-bait.  My question is whether this stems from the academic environment or the temperament of the students.

At Emerson everyone was an artist, or at least they regarded themselves as such, and they all looked like real people.  Was this because of the self-inflicted tortured-artist mentality so many of the Emersonians had?  Did the heavy burden of the human condition weigh us down mentally and physically?  Were we scrubbed of our fresh-faced enthusiasm by the raw winds of the city and its many rejections?

Many students at UCLA are from California and I wonder if the more relaxed lifestyle so often equated with SoCal actually makes a physical difference in its residents.  Does less stress mean more resilience?  Does a student population with fewer art students mean less worry about the reality of existence?  Or do they just have better face creams?

If it’s the face cream, please tell me where I can get some.

Anatomy of a Boyfriend by Daria Snadowsky

On a gift card funded tear through the bookstore the other day, I picked up a copy of Anatomy of a Boyfriend by Daria Snadowsky.  Its cute cover (a naked Ken-doll with strategically placed title bubble) drew me in, and once I started reading I was hooked by the voice of Dominique.  The story follows the course of a high-school-turned-college relationship, and it doesn’t hold back when describing the characters’ sexual experiences.  While many books in the YA category shy away from details, Anatomy of a Boyfriend depicts sex is a realistic, non-glorified way.  Along with it comes first love, laughter, and heartbreak.  This book was refreshing and a treat to read.  Definitely worth an afternoon.