squeetus

Fun house

Saturday we had a party with the same group of friends we've celebrated birthdays and holidays with for the past 15 years. At one time, some of us formed an improv comedy troupe (like that TV show "Who's Line Is It Anyway?" but not as funny). After swarms of insecurities chased each of us from performing anymore, we started doing Video Parties. We split into groups, go into various parts of the house armed with a video camera, and create short, improvised videos around a certain theme, then return to watch them together. Past themes have included an X-Files episode, movie trailers for Oscar nominees, and infomercials. Last Saturday's theme: things that might be relevant to a person standing in line for me to sign their book.

(weird side note, i just heard a flock of geese honking as they flew over the house. how cool is that?)

Something that's always made me uncomfortable is for people to have to wait in line for my signature (and let me clarify - they're usually not waiting because there are hordes of people at my signings but because I'm so SLOW). I thought about how at Disneyland sometimes waiting in line can be as entertaining as the ride, so I wanted to make a video to play for bookstore line waiters. Our group did "Tips on getting the best autograph out of an author," the other group pretended they were a think tank hired to come up with ideas for the next Shannon Hale book, and then we all did a "Cribs"-style show where I gave a tour of our condo while my friends preteneded to be our live-in cooks, nanny, that sort of thing. We thought we were hysterical. And...that doesn't bode well for what other people will think. We'll test it out on fans at the next signing and I'll let you know how it goes. I'm anticipating lots of blank stares.

Nice-ing

I was at Costco today with Max, and when we walked into the cold, refridgerated area, I said, "Max, look at my breath," and I breathed out so he could see how my breath was visible in the cold. Then he tried it, which was of course adorable. As I rounded a corner, a lady came up to me and said, "You're a great mom! You should know that. How you're always teaching him something, that's great!"

She was so darling about it, I couldn't stop grinning and bouncing as I walked all through the rest of the store. It reminded me of Shana, a friend I met while doing a study abroad years ago. We'd be walking down the street chatting, and suddenly she'd say, "Hold on a minute, Shannon," rush back to a woman we had just passed to tell her she had lovely hair. Or she'd run across the street to tell the garbage man what a wonderful job he was doing and thank him for keeping the streets looking so nice. I asked her about it, and she said, "I decided years ago, anytime I have a positive thought about someone to share it, even if it's a stranger." What a wonderful philosophy! I've tried to live by that ever since, though I'm not as daring as Shana was. That mother in Costco made me feel so great. Why not accost others with compliments? I'm renewing my committment to stranger nice-ing.

By the way, you all must be sending positive goodness my way, because the last couple of days Max has been so happy!

(okay, and yes, i'm still thinking about the Newbery Honor, but I don't want to bore you and talk about it all the time. But...I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AAAH!)

Still truckin'

Hello all you lovely people! Just a quick note. These have been wonderful and crazy days since Monday. Bloomsbury sent me a copy of princess academy with the shiny silver sticker today. Again, let me just say, holy cow. This feels like such a huge, earth moving deal to me, I actually had a very silly moment on Monday afternoon when I looked down and realized that getting a Newbery Honor didn't mean anyone was going to come and mop the bathroom floor for me.

It's especially been a strange week because Max has been having a hard time. He's declared to the world, "Attention! I am now officially TWO, so stand back and behold my terrible glory." I've been reading everything I can on tantrums. Poor kid. I just love him so much. Will this last a year? Or will he learn how to calm himself down and be my happy little boy again?

I'm off to finish the current draft of rapunzel's revenge so we can send it off to editor and artist. I'm getting so excited about that project. I just can't wait to see it illustrated! And it's my birthday (the very respectable age of 32. What a birthday present, eh?). After Max's nap, I get to hobnob with a couple of fellow writers--the queen of cool herself, Cecil Castellucci, and one of the kindest women on earth, Mette Ivie Harrison. Then Dean's taking me to dinner at my favorite restaurant. I'm a lucky girl.

A phone call at five a.m.

Holy cow. Holy holy cow. If there ever was a holy cow, I’m invoking said cow now.

So, at 5-something this morning, the phone rings. I was aware that today was the ALA (American Library Association) Mid-Winter meeting, where they announce the book awards. I knew my agent had left on Friday to go attend. So, phone call at 5 am, and I’m thinking, this is the meanest prank call in the world.

Me: He…hello?

Barbara (I hope I’m getting her name right, I had begun to shake and couldn’t hold the phone straight on my head): Is this Shannon Hale?

Me: Yes? (I was unsure myself)

Barbara: This is Barbara (last name? again, recall the shaking) and the entire Newbery Committee.

Me: (I’m not sure I said words, perhaps some sort of primitive grunt)

Barbara: (I’m paraphrasing, I’m sure she was much more eloquent) We are calling to inform you that princess academy has been selected as a Newbery Honor Book.

Me: Oh! Thank you so much. Uh…grunt, grunt…

Barbara: Are you crying?

Me: Uh, ya, um, I have to admit I’m crying. (I was pretty slobbery, and still with the shaking.)

I could hear now that I was on speaker phone, and the entire Newbery committee really was all there, listening, and they laughed at me, which I was so grateful for.

Barbara: We’re all looking forward to meeting you this summer at the annual meeting.

Me: Oh, do I get to go?

Again, more laughter.

Me: Thank you, I just want to thank you so much.

Barbara: No, we want to thank you for such a wonderful book.

Then they applauded. They clapped for me on the phone, on speaker phone, as I sat in bed in my flannel pajamas at 5-something in the morning. That was perhaps one of the most magical and strange and ethereal moments of my life. Not as glorious and transcendental as when Max was born, but something akin to it.

After the call ended, I lay down in bed, hugged my husband, and sobbed. For like ten minutes. Hard crying, like I haven't done since my sister died, as though my body was saying, "I can't process this, I'm not prepared to handle this." And then I felt like I needed to throw up so I went to the bathroom and dry heaved for a while, then I returned to bed and lay there with Dean until I stopped shaking and could stop saying, “I can’t believe it…” Now we could talk about it at last. Now we could laugh.

Me: I just want to assure you, now that I’m famous and adored, I’m not going to leave you.

Strangely, that idea never seemed to have crossed his mind.

And, later,

Me: Honey, this is crazy.

Dean: Well, you’re crazy, so it fits.

Of course, we couldn’t go back to sleep. We tried for about 10 minutes until it became ridiculous. I got up, said a prayer, checked my email (none), then watched the webcast on ala.org, just to make sure. I was nervous as I listened, half-anticipating that they wouldn’t really give princess academy a Newbery Honor. Then when they actually really did announce princess academy, they cheered for me! As if they’d heard of my book before or of me or something. It’s so weird. I’m just some schmo.

Deb called, my friend and publicity director at Bloomsbury, and we laughed and shook together, and she told me people would be calling me (they haven’t yet. Who will they be? And how will they get my number?).

Deb: Purely from a design standpoint, the silver sticker will look better on the princess academy cover than the gold would have.

Me: Oh, I’m so glad it’s an honor and not the medal. I’m not ready for that kind of pressure.

I need to call my family and friends, as soon as it’s not too early. And I’ll spend the day with Max, of course, reading and eating oatmeal and applesauce and running around the stool. I’m going to go rewrite a scene from rapunzel’s revenge before he wakes up. Keeping my head in the game, that’s what I’m going to do.

Graphic Novel X...Revealed!

We got an offer on the graphic novel! Bloomsbury wanted to make a two book deal, and we still haven't decided whether we'll do a sequel or another story entirely. Sadly, this won't be out until 2008, but they are doing it in color and I love the illustrator they chose, Nathan Hale.

The story is rapunzel's revenge. We're putting Rapunzel in the Old West. So, of course, while she's in the tower, bored and spittin' mad, she teaches herself to use her braids as whips and lassos. When she escapes, she rides out as a vigilante hero, protecting the innocent from outlaws and rabid coyotes and such. It's been a challenge to write, like any other book, but also so fun. Dean and I are collaborating. I read Jane Yolen once say that collaborating makes more work, takes more time, and at the time I thought, really? She was right, of course. But it's also so wonderful to collaborate with someone you love, who's brilliant in ways that I'm not.

I'm really in love with this form. Besides just being fun, graphic novels (aka novel-length comic books) are so great for certain kinds of readers. I think so many people get lost in books, and having that strong visual storytelling along with the text can be magical. Here's a short scene we wrote just for the book proposal packet. Nathan is experimenting with different coloring styles, and the characters may change appearance, but it'll give you an idea:

Last week my editor discovered that Disney is currenly making a Rapunzel animated film. Yikes! This could be good or bad for us. They'll come out the same year, and if the movie flops, it might cause unwanted anti-Rapunzel ripples. If it's a hit, it could stir up some Rapunzel mania. Either way, there go our chances for an animated film made from the graphic novel. Hm, what about a live action...

Writers @ Work

This summer, I'll be teaching a week-long Young Adult Novel workshop at the annual Writers @ Work Conference in Salt Lake City! (Despite the unfortunate website design, it really is a wonderful conference. I'm the wife of a web developer. I have to notice such things.) Check out the (unfortunate) website for conference info. Besides the morning workshops, there are afternoon panels, readings, and night stuff. For out-of-staters, you cay stay in on-campus housing. Westminster College has a lovely, intimate campus. I believe you need to be at least 19 years old to attend. Here's my workshop description:

Tight, Clean, and Fantastic: Writing the Young Adult Novel

Some of the most exciting and exceptionally written books being published today are for the young adult market. I believe it does no good to write to an audience outside yourself - if your internal reader feels at home in the young adult section, then this is where you belong. In this workshop, we'll get intimate with our first chapters. Does it make you fall in love with the characters? Does it draw you into the world? What sings out and what falls flat? All participants will submit the first chapter of their middle grade or young adult novel, maximum word count 2500 words, read the other participants' first chapters as well as Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer and Ida B by Katherine Hannigan. Along with workshopping chapters, we'll talk shop, examine the corners of writing and publishing, and find some hope in this crazy business.

Miri's award

princess academy was chosen by some booksellers as an honorable mention for Favorite Novel of the Year! It made some other really nice lists as well that made me jump around happily for a week. Why is this so cool? Why is it such a relief? I truly don't sit around worrying about awards, but when they come, it's a mixture of bouncing on my toes and leaning back with a sigh.

I guess in part it means that this book didn't fail. You write it the best you can, but until you hear back from readers and librarians and booksellers, you don't know if succeeded outside yourself. I can't worry about the market while I'm writing, I can only worry about the story, the characters, the words. But after it comes out, it ceases to feel like mine and yet becomes a factor in my future as a writer. enna burning wasn't a smash hit , and if princess academy didn't find an audience, I really wondered how long I'd get to keep being a writer. And besides being a mom and wife and friend, it's all I want to do.

I'm still a bit brain dead from a plethora of school visits I've been doing (they're surprisingly draining!). Some classes were so naughty and just couldn't've cared less. Others made it worth it. I like to ask students who likes to read, who doesn't, and why. One (beautiful!) 8th grader, who had raised her hand for liking reading, said during the discussion, "I didn't used to like to read. I hadn't read a book for a year and a half, and then my teacher gave me the goose girl, and I loved it, and since then I've been reading a book a week." Holy cow, could a writer ever hear anything cooler? What an amazing girl. Of course, I instantly embraced her and asked her to go out for karaoke. My new favorite karaoke song? Total Eclipse of the Heart. "Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart. There's nothin' I can do, total eclipse of the heart!" NOTE: When I sing, I make seals sound lyrical.

Crazier than you?

My husband (Dean) and I just had a prolonged discussion about which of us is crazier. I am determined that he is by far crazier, and he stuck to the "equally crazy" stance. Eventually he rolled around to "I'm only slightly crazier than you," but even that wouldn't appease me. I mean really, those of you who read both our blogs, isn't the choice obvious? Vote for Dean for craziest spouse.

This conversation ebbed then picked back up again with evidence and impassioned speeches, until Dean killed it by saying, "Okay, I'm only as much crazier than you as I am smarter than you." That is so not fair. He cheats like this all the time.

And then, several minutes later we were talking about the book were writing and in a complete non sequitur, he says, "Despite the fact that I'm the bald one, I think you'd look more natural with horns." And his eyes glance upwards casually, as if imagining. I ask you, how much can a wife stand before she should expect chocolates?

River Secrets gets a face

It's here! A scan of the painting of the cover of river secrets (image copyright Alison Jay). I've compressed it, so it doesn't look as sharp and lovely as it will. I love the colors, and I love how it's akin to the other Bayern book covers but also feels very different. Obviously, we're not in Bayern anymore. And there's dear Razo in the foreground. In sandals. All will be made clear very soon...

Breathing through my nose again

After two weeks of illness, we're finally mending nicely, with just a cough here and a sniffle there. Poor Max got his first ear infection and my cold/flu turned into a sinus infection, then Dean got it as well. But all better now. It's such a joy to see Max able to play and feel good again, to just sit on the floor and play with his trains and run around the stool and laugh. I missed my happy little guy.

I'm doing a series of visits to a middle school this month, and today was my second visit. I talk about how I became a writer, about reading for pleasure, and how to write your own stories. It is often a joy and often exhausting. Today I had a strange experience - one of the worst classes in the world back to back with one of the best classes in the world. It was really intriguing to compare. The worst class was horrible! They didn't throw things or behave horribly or anything, but they just sucked energy. There were 3 or 4 very strong personalities (all boys for some reason) who were very negative individuals, didn't care about the class or me or anything really, and their presence completely intimidated all the other students to silence. No one spoke up. No one answered questions. I don't think those other students even realized how their intelligence and wonderful possibilities were being crushed. It was very sad. I've noticed that my readers, in general, tend to be rather sassy, so I don't think you guys would've responded that way. I wish I'd realized in the moment what exactly was going on and could call them on it, could send the negative influences into the hall and spoken frankly to the rest. I'll say it now. "Don't let them determine what you think and say. Speak up! Be proud of yourselves. You are bright and interesting. Poo on individuality bullies!" After that class I was ready to curl up and take a nap, and then came one of the best classes I've ever experienced. Everyone had ideas, no one was ashamed to speak them, everyone was supportive of everyone else's opinions. I was proud just to be with those great kids. Would that all classes were like that.

I just sent off my notes on the copy edited manuscript of river secrets. Huzzah! All the major stuff is done now. I'll look over it again after it goes to type setting to make sure there aren't mistakes, but I won't make any more big changes. I sent a ridiculously long email with last minute changes to the managing editor at my publisher, some 150 lines of notes. If you're curious, here's a chunk of what I sent. Things in () are to be cut and [] to be added. The first number is the page number.

17 – line 17, “(For a moment,) The sound of two javelins and a fist took up the whole room, lonely and inviting at once. (At once) [Then] a clatter of replies tossed against the walls.”

19 – line 10, “he (could) hear[d] their voices”

20 – cut 2 paragraphs, from “Then his horse, Bee Sting,” to “-without drooling in my hair.”

20 – line 5, “Morning, Enna-girl,” Razo said as he fumbled with a horse blanket. It was no easy task to saddle Bee Sting while the mare was nuzzling his pockets for stowed morsels.”

21 – line 15, “with a pouch of stones[.] (and) Some of the soldiers mocked him for wearing a simple Forest weapon so openly[, but] none protested”