2008 Thunder Bolts!
Cuz “highlights” seems to mellow of a word for the year of 2008.
My most memorable moments starting in January:
My boy turning 5, his costume birthday party. I was a pregnant 
that is exactly what my costume looked like but with a basketball tucked into the middle.
SEA Revisions! Me doing revisions: 
I got everything done. Chopped what I was supposed to. Moved things around. Revised with baby kicking in belly that touched the flat slab of faux granite half-counter where I work…then…
She arrived!
My sweet Buddha Baby. Our little engaged angel girl who ying-yangs out our family perfectly and who keeps me at a constant state of sleep debt. Whose backwards wave kills me. Whose prune-face grin makes me squee. Sweet girl.
From crazy no sleep comes…the muuuuuuse.
Surfing witchez and warlox be thy name.
Swordplay, energy balls, ancient grudges, oh my!
The fantasy trilogy. Am I insane for even trying this? Yes, no, yes, no, I love it, so does agent. Wow! Can life get better? Book coming out, new baby! New book! This seems to good to be true true true (record starts skipping…)
THEN comes The Call.
“SEA will actually debut in 2010. It’s better timing for your book and you’ll have a bigger debut and…”
Me:
One week later when I find my voice: But but but what about my hard work and my debut friends and my community and (insert lots of fussing and whining and tears)
Two weeks later.
Okay. No longer a true member of the Fantabulous Feast of Awesome (though I know I am in spirit sweet friends) http://community.livejournal.com/debut2009/
Well, do something about it, then you wussy and stop whining!
The phoenix shall rise from the ashes! How about this?
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. And add a lot of sugar till you feel better.
So I ate a lot of these:
Yes, a Sprinkles opened up nearby. And yes, they are as good as the hype says they are.
Coconut cupcakes have especially good healing powers. You should try them.
Soon, I was all better.
And ready for the next adventure.
Super E started Kindergarten. No more preschool. A big boy. And he took it seriously. And he was brave. And he made new friends. And I was so happy.
And then came fall. And lots of bad news: economy in the tanks, gas prices $5.00 a gallon, recession.
Someone reminded me that there has never been anything false about Hope. A reminder that one person can make difference. I had my doubts. It almost ached to believe.
Princess B and I danced many a dance right here in my kitchen to this song below…
And when the votes were tallied it was happy tears and champagne and just mindblowing…wow.
Thanks for making 2008 so memorable.
Cheers to the future, friends!
Awesome, awesome books in 2009 coming our way! I can’t wait!
Dreamland
The baby was up at 4 a.m. last night and sort of whined off and on till real morning, which left me half-past exhausted, so after I dropped of still-on-winter-break E off at a playdate, I returned and actually Took A Nap.
I’m so anti-naps. I’m like, I’ll do anything other than nap. I’m like a kindergartner that way.
But whoa…it was awesome.
The best part was in my dream I was sleeping in my room with the baby next to me in her little bed (just like I really was) and my mom and my friends arrived and woke me up. But when they woke me up I felt totally normal, not sleep deprived like I could still sleep another year and not catch up, but totally satisfied in that I’m-going-to-cat-yawn-and-stretch kind of a way.
And the best part?
My friend was carrying a tray with steaming hot coffee in a white pot.
Cream, real cream in a white cream dish.
And a bowl of sugar cubes.
Really? Seriously?
Oh room service dreamland, how I love you.
Heidi R. Kling’s Author Chat…with the fabulous Carrie Jones (part deux)
It’s so great to have Carrie on Author Chat again. She was the very first author I interviewed on my blog series way back in summer, 2007!
If you have time, please read it first…or just skim it for Red Dawn fun: http://seaheidi.livejournal.com/37594.html. It’s also the first time she talks about Grover (I believe) and I love taking credit for her Grover lovin’. =D
Carrie is one of those rare eggs. Colorful and priceless. I love how she raises consciousness within her novels. I love how she respects her audience. I love the strength of her female characters. I love her kindness and generosity and activism. Her life and her career inspire me to do better. To do more.
So barely two years later, Carrie is now the author of FOUR YA novels: “Tips on Having A Gay (ex) Boyfriend,” Its sequel, “Love & Other Uses for Duct Tape,” “Girl, Hero,” and now a brand new fantasy novel “Need,” her first non-Flux novel, which debuts courtesy of Bloomsbury and is IN STORES NOW!
She stopped by between press junkets to answer a few questions, but first, trying to win a signed copy of NEED on another blog I left her this question:
If Grover couldn’t be your Muppet bff anymore, like, if suddenly the earth was stricken Groverless, which Muppet would you consider as a replacement?
To which she answered:
Heidi, if Grover were suddenly gone (Horror upon horrors!) my Muppet bff would be:
Guy Smiley
Oh, that’s a total lie.
It would be Fozzie. I used to have a crush on Fozzie. I have a thing for bears. My first crush was Ben the grizzly bear on Grizzly Adams, this old tv show.
See? She’s just a hoot. Without further adieu, it is my honor to present my second interview with Carrie Jones:
I love your one word title and the gorgeous gold cover of NEED. What is the basic premise of your new novel?
NEED is about a girl whose step-father has died and her mom sends her north to Maine to live with her step-grandmother and try to get her out of her massive mourning. However, Maine proves to be kind of dangerous and she is being stalked by one of the fae.
Your first few books were contemporary, why did you decide to branch out into fantastical elements and plot lines?
There were a couple reasons.
1. I’d seen this guy at a fair and he had these eyes that were just not human and he had a tail. Seriously. He was so intriguing.
2. I’ve always loved reading books with fantastical elements.
3. I wanted to dare myself and see if I could write a really different kind of book and incorporate social justice elements into something that was a lot more fast-paced and plotty than my first three books.
3. Was the process different? I’m fascinated because my first book is contemporary and my second is fantasy and it is different.
Oh! That’s right! The process was a little different. I revised the plot arc more and I researched more. My first three books are very much from my gut and my emotions. This one required more intellect, more plotting, more deliberation. It was so much fun
4. Did you have any input on that fabulous cover?
Nope! I didn’t! I wish I could take the credit for it, but Bloomsbury’s AMAZING graphic/arts team made that cover. I am in love, a passionate and scary love, with my cover.
Does Grover make a cameo in NEED?
No. But he might make a cameo in the sequel.
Do you have a favorite line from the book that you can share?
My favorite line was cut, actually! It was: Ithyphallophobia is the fear of an erect penis, which is a totally cool fear. I mean, how crazy is it that they named a fear for that?
(*interview erupted by my giggles*)
So what’s up next for the fabulous Carrie Jones?
I’m working (Ok. I’m just starting) the sequel to NEED; on a super secret project, and a nonfiction picture book.
Thanks for interviewing me Heidi!
I NEED THIS BOOK NOW!
Super E’s Before-Christmas-Dinner Game. Wanna play?
1) What are you thankful for (yes, a repeat of Thanksgiving tradition)
AND
2) What was your favorite gift?
Hope you all had a lovely holiday!
Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!
Love,
Heidi, Dr. D, Super E, Princess B, of course, Dan & Serena.
xoxo
Postal Joy Part III: The True Conclusion
Her eyes widen.
How is she going to use both hands to tape the box shut?
The postal employee sneers. He’s got her now.
To punish her for not pre-boxing her things at home she would pay.
He would make her pay.
The woman had three choices to a) give her baby away to strangers b) humiliate herself by begging for help or c) grow an extra arm in order to complete the task at hand.
Clearly b and c were the only realistic choices. She was rather fond of her baby.
“Next,” the Squinty-eyes breathed out his flaring nostrils.
“How can I when she is still in the way?”
The “she” sounded like “it.” The “thing,” this “unprepared mother.”
The woman glanced sideways to see a hard-faced overweight woman dump a hard package on the counter. The woman moved her overflowing purse out of the way just in time. Without so much as mumbling an apology (because really, why should she apologize? What really was her crime here?) she shifted over. The baby squee’d on her hip. She was enjoying the whole thing. The moppy haired boy shouted again, with more urgency this time, “Mom, I have. To. Go. Poop.”
The mother paused. Surveyed the scene.
Surely there would be no accessible bathroom here.
The giant box sat in front of her at eye level. The tape still rested on top.
She eyed the nicer postal man. He was busy with his customer.
She bit her lip.
Then she just did it.
In one flowing swoop she lifted up onto tiptoe and squeezed the baby between her inner arm and hip, as if her arm was a protective wing of a bird and hoisted her up as she reached out with her left hand and supported the tape. With her right hand she ripped the tape across the package, stretched it across the sharp metal edged and RIIIIP. Bingo.
She let out a breath. Relaxed back on flat feet.
The baby smiled.
She did it again. Tip toes. Bird wing. Stretch. Riiiiip.
The nice postal man gave her a little wink, clearly impressed with her bravado.
The Mistress of One Armed While Carrying a Baby Taping, narrowed her eyes at the wicked post man who was now bitterly arguing with the crash woman. “I will not pay that,” she said. “No. This is a book not a giant box of toys.”
The post man rubbed his glistening forehead.
“What’s the rate for after Christmas?” she asked, her voice weighted down with past resentments.
“$3.21. But it won’t arrive by Christmas.”
“Fine,” she said, “At least that’s not highway robbery.”
The woman surveyed this bitter woman and the disgruntled postman.
No wonder he was such a piss head, she thought. Dealing with people like this all day.
She made eye contact with the nice postman who grinned at her. She knew she had an ally in him. Without so much as a word she pushed the package toward him. He ran a thin hand over the tape and nodded. “This looks good,” he said.
“Thanks,” the woman said. Filled with pride, she looked down at her bouncing boy. From experience she knew trying to hold in poop is no fun. “Let’s go potty at Starbucks,” she said.
The three of them left the post office.
Mother, son, daughter.
The package would arrive on time. She didn’t need to ask for help. She didn’t burst into tears.
Next door, the Starbucks, the marketing wonder of the world, the antithesis to the narrow, white walled post office, was a sensory delight. Coffee aromas, Christmas music, red bows and fresh pastries greeted them. Starbucks was happy to see them. The ‘bucks was a welcoming friend.
The woman breathed it in.
Aromatherapy. She was now a believer.
There was noone in line as the family stepped up.
“Can I get a pumpkin scone, Mama?” the boy asked. “Then I”ll go poop.”
“Okay…” the woman said.
“How old is your baby?” the brown-eyed woman behind the counter asked.
“Seven months.”
“She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.”
“I have a four month old at home.”
“Aww…is it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy. Carmello after his dad.”
The way she said, “after his dad,” made the woman think the dad may not be around. That and the fact that the woman sort of looked off as she said it. This made the woman sad.
“Where is the baby now?”
“Well, he used to stay with my mother but then she had a heart attack.”
God.
“I had a heart attack once! Remember Mom?”
The woman smiled and then shrugged apologetically toward the woman in the green Starbucks apron. “You did?” she asked her boy.
“Yes! Dad and I scared each other in the middle of the night and we both had HEART ATTACKS!”
“That’s true…but this is more like a serious illness where you have to go to the hospital. You were just scared.”
The boy nodded toward the lady. “It was a heart attack. But we didn’t die.”
“Is she okay now?” the woman asked the Starbucks lady.
“No…well…she’s back at home…”
“Whose watching the baby now?”
The woman realized she may be too nosy at this point, but it was too late. The woman paused then sort of shrugged. It was clear she didn’t have the details worked out. That she was figuring out her life day by day.
“Does she let you set her down?” the Starbucks lady asked the woman, gesturing toward the baby in arms.
“Hardly,” the woman said in that Mother-Understanding way.
“My baby makes me hold him from the second I get home till bedtime. I can’t even shower!”
“He is probably just happy to see you,” the woman said, nodding.
“Yeah…” the Starbucks employee said wistfully, then she cleared her throat and finished the order.
“I hope everything works out,” the woman told the Starbucks mom.
The woman sort of half-nodded and got back to work.
How much could this woman be making at Starbucks? the woman thought. Why didn’t our country, like France for instance, take care of new mothers? Give them decent paid maternity leave so they can care for their infants? This woman had a four month old who needed his mother, why was slinging coffee more important that caring for her child?
Suddenly frustrated and worried for this woman and her baby and the guy named Carmello and the mother with the heart attack and the state of unfairness in the world, the woman and her kids find a table and put their pastries on it.
Slightly irritated now, the trio head to the bathroom where they face more challenges: an overflowing toilet, no place to put the baby while she goes, binkie, yet again, falling on the even-grosser floor and so on.
She resolves the small crisises swiftly, they are nothing new.
After their snack, she digs in her purse for her keys.
“Hmm…” the woman says. “I can’t find my keys. E, can you ask the nice lady if she saw our keys?”
He goes up, asks, comes back. Nothing.
“Oh, no…”
They can only be one place.
The post office.
“Come on guys,” she says calmly. “Back to the post office.”
Entering the post office it is even more crowded. Like they are playing tunnel tag they sort of crawl through the crowd surveying the ground for the keys. Nothing. “E?” the mother asks, “Did you see the keys when we were in here?”
The customers move out of their way, it is clear they are looking for keys. They all start looking around.
The woman scans the metal slots that hold packaging slips.
The boy holds his finger up in the air. A eureka moment.
“What?” the mother asks.
“I threw them into one of these slots while I was playing my game!” he announces cheerfully.
One customer unleashes a knowing laugh. She’s been there.
The woman smiles. “Okay, well let’s find them.”
They look through the slots. A man in a white pressed shirt and red tie helps. Another woman with a dark brown bun in her hair helps as well.
Little silver ramps leading to…no keys.
“Shoot,” the woman says.
She glances up.
She’s going to have to deal with Him.
But he’s gone!
She moves forward in line without apology or former explanation. Everyone knows what is happening. Desperate Mom, the sequel.
“Have you seen my keys? They have a little Ewok stuffed animal on them? I was just here a second ago and then went to Starbucks afterwords…” the woman has a tendency to give more details than necessary when her heart rate is up.
The nice post man is still there.
In Evil Postmans place is a friendly guy the woman knows from previous experiences. If she would have got him, he would have helped tape the box. She knew that.
He yells something into the back, maybe the guy’s name?
Through the crack in a giant bill board, she can see part of his middle.
Then she sees part of her keychain. Hears the jingle as the metal keys collide.
He has them.
He has her keys.
Did he find them in the metal slots?
Did someone turn them in?
Was he holding them for her?
Did he know they were hers?
Would he hold them captive forever?
For a second time stops.
“I have them,” the voice from the back grumbles, then he walks out and hands them to the woman.
“Thank you,” she says to him looking him right in the eye.
He gives her a slight, albeit extremely narrow smile, and in that moment the woman was sure his heart grew two sizes.
She was grateful.
The woman turned back around, baby on one hip, five year old boy by her side. A woman in line looked her right in the eye, “You are amazingly calm,” she said shaking her head with a sort of impressed glow in her eyes.
“It’s just been one of those days,” the woman answered.
Because it had been.
Her mind flashed on the woman taking orders from strangers for soy half-caf lattes for eight hour shifts, wishing she could be home with her baby. Wishing she knew who would be taking care of her infant son the next day.
Then her mind flashed on a conversation she had earlier that day with a fellow mom who hired a babysitter when she had to do errands because she’d always had a nanny and “neither she or the kids were used to doing errands together and it always turned out to be a disaster.”
The woman had felt a twinge of jealousy when she had said that. Wow, a nanny so she could run errands?
The woman envisioned herself then calmly waiting in line in the post office, efficientally taping her package. Scarf wrapped around her neck as she drank her vanilla latte and hummed to Christmas music while her kids were at home with a nanny.
But really? The inability to take your kids on errands? How is that a blessing? More like a curse.
Opposite ends of the spectrum these two mothers were: one would love to be with her child more, one could only handle some aspects of life, like braving holiday post offices, without them.
And then there was her.
Overflowing toilets, nasty postman, missing keys, disgruntled tape, poop crisis…these things were part of the sometimes-sticky-gift of spending 24 hours a day with her children—because the other alternative, to not be with them, was something she didn’t even want to think about.
And realizing this was the best Christmas gift of all.
Noteworthy Observes In Indy BookStore As I Bought Last Minute Xmas Gifts For Arriving Relatives!*
*Life As We Know It and its companion book being praised and hand sold by the employee to a person looking for a book for “a 12 year old.”
*A boy about 10 years old frothing in the mouth over Alex Rider books. He was “Mom mom look at this one this is the one I told you about that is kind of violent and has a bomb explode in it oh and I’ve already read this one (flip) and this one (flip) and this one (flip) why are some of his books in this section and why are some in this section? man I wish there were more of these books…(didn’t stop until they left the section)
*Faced out copies of GRACELING and HUNGER GAMES are highlighted in BOTH the YA and ADULT SCI FI section (whooo hooo!) Go cross-overs! Go marketing! Go bookstore! I loved seeing that!
*Books make awesome holiday gifts. Well duh, we already knew that!
*Legos makes books for kids. About hero…legos. We now are proud owners of two of them.
*The boy likes Eggnog Scones. (Who knew there was even such thing?)
*Lots of people think it’s funny/cute when babies where red and white stripes during the holidays.
*I’d rather be out in holidaze madness in the rain with two kids then at home.
*If you stand in line for awhile someone who isn’t me will gift wrap my books.
*My Indy store carries LAMENT and now I’m the proud owner. Nom nom.
*Super E prefers globe map wrapping paper over Santa of silvery blue Christmas trees. Who knew?
Happy happy Merry merry to you and your loved ones!!!
Does this not scream Christmas eve eve? I can’t wait to read it!
THis is SO Super Cool!
Check this out!
SeVen BoOkS You Should Definitely Read in 2009
Don’t forget to watch the credits…I squeeed!
Speaking of cool stuff: Congrats to carriejones her gorgeous-covered novel NEED is out today and lisa_schroeder for her new novel that looks terrific FAR FROM YOU.
My Top Ten Holiday Movie Moments!
If *anyone* is online, please go read. I’m, uh, a little late posting but it’s there!
http://community.livejournal.com/10_ers/51229.html
Teaser: This is one of them. Remember the magic?
Here’s a clue: Who has a tattoo that reads Wino Forever?
Postal Joy Part Deux: Going Postal
How is she going to use both hands to tape the box shut?
The postal employee sneers. He’s got her now.
To punish her for not pre-boxing her things at home she would pay.
He would make her pay.
The woman had three choices to a) give her baby away to strangers b) humiliate herself by begging for help or c) grow an extra arm in order to complete the task at hand.
or, d)… yes, “d”…
She hands the baby to Mr. Ironed shirt next to her and her hands slip under the packing foam in the box to reveal two shining silver 45-caliber guns each with action cocked. On the pearl handles were etched the letters “A” and “E” respectively and crosses were etched into the hollow tips of each cartridge. In a flash, she held them sideways, one over the other and pointed them at the postman’s demonic face. He cast a look of shock. The postman, who was really a demon in disguise, was used to believing he the bearer of power in deals. Motion in the room ceased.
Calmly, she pulled both triggers and then repeated the action without yield. The first shots ripped thru his worm-filled head. As she continued the barrage of silver bullets, she moved her aim down from the evaporating head and made a canoe of the upper chest cavity. Without a head, the body continued to stand for seconds before falling backward.
“Merry Effin” Christmas, Mr. Postman.”
The room broke out in delight and Christmas cheer as she blew the smoke from the barrels.
“And a happy New Year, beeeotch.”
She flicked the binky on his corpse.*
To Be Continued.
*Fantasy Alt ending provided by Dr. D (H’s husband) and edited for language and clarity. A disclaimer: we in no way support violence against postman. Even against demonic postmen.)
HoliDAZE CONTEST:
How would YOU end the story?
One paragraph only. Bonus points for humor!
Winner wins one of the 10 million new YA books author has purchased to support Indy Book Stores and Publishing Industry.
The real part deux will be be posted Tuesday. =D
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