Teen had two friends over last night. At 6 a.m. I realized they were still awake. I had to insist they go to sleep. They were teaching themselves how to count cards. Yes, Teen has a future in Vegas.

Meanwhile, I am on day five of being sick. The days are tolerable, but at night I can't sleep. First it was my throat hurting, now it's a non-stop tickle cough. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm open. Last night I tried sleeping with a cough drop in my mouth, frequent drinks of water, tenting the blankets over my head, and sometime in the middle of the night, a stiff gin and tonic.

I got maybe a total of two hours of sleep, in increments of five or ten minutes.

Yesterday's Urban Dictionary word of the day was santaclaustrophobia , a fear of too many Santa Clauses. Too many. As in more than one. But, but...you say. It's true, there are singular Santas that can be quite frightening. Like here and here and here. But that's not what we're talking about with santaclaustrophobia. We're talking red suits and white beards galore. Jolly, jolly times a thousand. Sound like just the stuff of nightmares? No, no. Take a look:





Santa Con!! Wikipedia explains this nonsensical event here. Santa Con happens in many big cities usually around the 10th of December.

The above pics are from Santa Con NYC--taken a few years ago. Though I was also lucky enough to catch it this year on my way out from critique group. I love, love, love, love Santa Con. Almost as much as I love reuniting with my NYC critique group, but not quite. Because you gotta admit the awesomeness of a ladybug reunion is well, darn near jolly overload. Now that I live in Boston, I take the bus to NYC every few weeks for critique group. It rocks. So much that if I asked them to, they would dress up as Santa for me so I could get my fix. Ladybugs, Santa can have wings!!

Because whatever the opposite of santaclaustrophobia is, I have that. Get a pile of Santas in the room, and Edith jolliness will occur. 2010 resolution, attend Santa Con as actual Santa. Ideally as a Santa with a book deal. 'Cause you know, top of the resolution list is to kick the pre off my pre-published status. Kick it to the curb! Thunk. So, who's in? Who wants to be a Santa with a book deal?

The week in California seemed to fly past. Since I arrived home I have been busy getting things in order for Christmas. After preparing the goodies to take to the newlyweds' house in Christmas and making a pot of chili, I settled down not for a nap but to finish reading TALES OF THE MADMAN UNDERGROUND (Viking, 2009). The entire story takes place in a little under one week in September of 1973. It opens as Karl Shoemaker prepares for his first day of the school year, the first day of being NORMAL according to his plan. But things are far from normal in the Shoemaker household. Karl cares for his mother whose general condition is either drunk or hung over. Other duties include shoveling cat excrement off any flat surface (including his bed), loosening a window sash so her does not get locked out after his late shift cleaning the local burger joint is over, and repairing anything around his house. Karl wants just to be left alone this year, to not be part of the Madman Underground, a therapy group he has been part of for quite a few years. He just wants to be one of the other kids, the normal ones, hang on to graduation and then join the Army. Life, however, is just not going to cooperate with Karl.

Fresh, smart, unique: this book has it all from the totally original Karl Shoemaker and all of the Madman Underground group to the totally believable life of kids who are somehow surviving despite the absolutely crappy lives they have been handed, to the totally natural way the back story unfolds through the eyes of Karl. Lots of other words come to mind: raw, emotional, surprising and always HOPEFUL in a world that seems to have so little hope.

A couple of years back, all the kids I knew used Myspace. Now they live on Facebook and would never go on Myspace.

I'm curious - what are teens doing where you live?
Poll #1502163 Myspace Vs. Facebook
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 19

What do teens where you live use: Myspace or Facebook?

Here's what I do when I want to hear clunky passages, take note of missing words, and in general make my writing better. I add my ears to my eyes. To try this at home, you can:
- Read your work aloud
- If you have a kid you can get to sit still or even a cat or a dog, read to them
- Tape record yourself reading your work and then listen.
- Have someone else read your work aloud and listen (you can also tape record)
- If you have a newer computer, have it read to you. My new Mac can read to me! (full disclosure: okay, it sounds like a robot, but still)

Wow, I've been busy baking and cleaning and getting ready for our Christmas party tonight. But I finally sat down at my computer and realized I need to announce the winner. And the name my daughter just picked out of Santa's hat: mike_jung  Congrats Mike!  Message me your address and I'll get the ARC off to you in time for Christmas:) Thanks to everyone who entered, and there are still seven hours left of The Gardener giveaway over at Goodreads, if you want a second chance to win.

Yesterday I ran the fastest five miles I have run all year. By the time I went to bed last night, I was starting to wonder if I was getting sick.

I have spent 13 of the last 15 hours in bed. I would have spent all of them in bed, but Teen was afraid I had died.

I'm thinking it's just a cold. I hope so. I have a history of pneumonia, but I'm not running fever. Just weak and foggy, and a little bit of a sore throat.

Or at least I am legion. When I typed my name into peekyou.com, I found dozens of April Henrys. I had thought there were about 15 or 20, but there seem to be far more.

I liked it better when I thought I was more unique.

Late breaking chicken news: Chicken Dance is one of the ten nominees for the 2011 Grand Canyon Reader Award in the picture book division. Thank you, Arizona!

This year, my mother presented us with a challenge: She'd like homemade gifts this year. Nothing storebought, just gifts we've created ourselves.

Now, for me, the challenge was a bit scary. I am not an arts-and-crafts type of girl. I can bake -- fairly well -- but so can my mom, so she doesn't need another baked good at this time of year. "Why don't you give me the novel you've written?" she said, and I will -- but I also wanted to give her something I've created just with her in mind.

I came up with the idea of a poem, to hang in the home she shares with my step-father in Iowa. The town they live in is the same small town where their parents live, and a short drive away from many of my aunts and uncles and cousins. My parents bought a farmhouse there about six years ago and completely renovated it, adding a wing to the home that was large enough to hold their five children and 11 grandchildren over the holidays.

The renovations were nearly complete when a tornado devastated much of their property on Memorial Day Weekend last year, the same day that a tornado destroyed much of Parkersburg, Iowa. The repairs to their home are still ongoing (you would be surprised at how long such a process can take).

I understand what she and my stepfather went through in part because my family and I were huddled in their basement with my parents, grandparents, aunt, and uncle when the tornado hit, and we heard, felt, and saw what happened that day. But I also understand what the process of rebuilding is like. Four months after the tornado, my home was flooded when rains from Hurricane Ike caused the river behind our home to overflow. We were displaced from our home for 10 months; the repairs to our home will finally be finished later this month.

An experience such as what my parents went through, both on the day of the tornado and during the months of rebuilding that have taken place, taxes you in ways that are difficult to comprehend fully unless you've been through it. And it's my hope for them that, now that many of the repairs are complete, they can enjoy their home again in the way they had always intended.

This poem was created as a way of honoring their intentions for this home, and celebrating all that it has to offer.


Bless This House

This is the house
that was built on dreams,
a house in the land where our families were born,
a house that could grow large enough to hold
our children
and grandchildren
and four-legged creatures of all sizes,
a house where we could share a drink with friends on a hot July evening,
or watch the snow fall outside from our front room, warmed by the fireplace we’d built.

This is the house that became a home
for the two of us,
for our dog, Geoffrey, faithful companion, protector of the hearth,
for all who come to celebrate with us:
holidays,
engagements,
weddings,
the birth of grandchildren,
birthdays of those we hold dear,
wedding anniversaries, each year a
blessing.

This is the house that winds of fury tried to take down one Memorial Day weekend,
as we huddled in our basement,
surrounded by family,
surrounded by love,
but nature’s wrath could not shake
the foundation upon which this house was built:
a foundation of love,
and hard work,
and commitment,
and perseverance,
and a stubborn determination to hang onto the dreams we had.

This is the house that became our home.

God bless this home
For always.


—Jeni Bell, December 15, 2009

What would you do if you were kidnapped by your ex-boyfriend, bound with zip ties? And if confessed to you that he had committed several robberies and had been experimenting with bomb making?

One Oregon woman persuaded the guy that if he didn’t kill her, they would be like Bonnie and Clyde, on the lam together. He actually believed her, and she managed to escape.

You can read and hear more of her story here.

Spent this morning working on my audiobook review column due at the end of the month. The internets was not cooperating, so I am not quite finished yet, but I have made a good start. Yesterday afternoon I drove to see my sister who lives inland about 40 miles from the coast. We visited and had a nice dinner before I headed back "home." I love the GPS since I instructed it to take me there and back without using freeways. That meant a quiet drive there and a fabulous drive back with time to actually admire the lights winking in the distance and the houses all decked out for Christmas. It has been nice to relax though I miss the resident of the back bedroom, my better half, and Scout. So, here is a photo of Scout enjoying his morning Grape Nuts. He prefers Fiber One.

One hundred tools to turn to when you have writer’s block - including music to listen to, title generators, story prompts, and more.

A recent article in the Oregonian begins, “Last year, artist and author Lawrence Rinder gave up on the antiquated business of traditional publishing. The former curator for the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York could easily have sought a big-time book deal but chose to get his recent novel, "Revenge of the Decorated Pigs," produced in "jank editions," photocopies bound in manila folders and printed on demand by the Publication Studio in downtown Portland.”

While I’m not sure I buy the premise - the man has never published a novel before, so while he could have sought a “big-time book deal” who knows if he would have found one - this is still an interesting story about decidedly non-traditional publishing.

You can read the whole story here.

I used to be the SCBWI Critique Connections Online Coordinator for the Tri- Regions of Southern California. Wow, that is a loooong title. Due to my recent move to New England, I am no longer a southern CA girl. So I passed my crown (They gave me a crown. Okay, they didn't really, but sometimes I wore one just for fun), to my bud, Sheryl who, as you can see was perfect for the job because she looks great with things on her head.

Anyhow, as a person with a formerly large title, I am feeling important enough to step on my Go Green soap box. Because I have discovered something huge. HUGE. It is going to save the planet, people. (*Edited to add* Okay, okay so *I* didn't discover it. Almost all the smart things I know were told to me by my super awesome friend Jenn Bosworth.)

Anyway, if you have an iPhone or an iTouch (and possibly a Blackberry, though I'm not as familiar with those), you don't have to print critiques for your buds. EVER. (I meet in person with my critique group. If you meet online, then chances are, you're already doing things electronically & you don't need an iPhone for that, just a computer.)

If you meet in person & you're looking to go green, here's how it works. Take your bud's manuscript. Most likely, unless you live on Planet Mumu, it is in Word. Comment bubble the hell out of that baby using Word's comment feature. Go to "Insert" and then "Comment." If you've never used this feature in Word, welcome to 2009. You're late, but we still love you.

What I also often do is write a little paragraph summarizing my thoughts at the top of the person's manuscript. How? Just type it in. Dear Sheryl, You rock. Your characters are made of awesome. Yours, Edith

Okay, then, (and this is the cool part), you go to "Print" like you normally would to print out your bud's pages. BUT you do NOT print. There is a button (or at least on a Mac there is...see the trouble when you try to give technology advice...*sigh*)...anyway, there is a button in the bottom left labeled PDF. Click that and tell it to Save as PDF. It takes a picture of your bud's manuscript pages along with your comment bubbles and anything else you wrote. Then you email the PDF file as an attachment to your email.

Now take your iPhone or your iTouch (or before I got an iPhone, I dragged my laptop, although that's less fun), and be on your merry way to Critique Group. Once you're there, just whip out your phone (uh, hmmm...that sounded dirty somehow. chuckle, chuckle.) Anyway, take out your phone, find the file in your email (this literally takes two seconds), and wallah! You can read and discuss. Then right after discussing you can email the file to your bud so she has a copy. I've found it's best not to do this beforehand, because people sometimes get defensive if they've had time to read what you wrote and form an argument about what you've said. (Ahem, ahem, I myself have never become defensive when emailed comments in advance. Okay, so it was me! If you're meeting me in person, don't give me the freaking comments in advance people.)

Advantages:
1. You'll never lose critique pages with handwritten notes!
2. That giant pile of critique papers in your house, poof, no more!
3. Many editors and agents use the comment bubble feature in Word. Great thing to familiarize yourself with and get used to using.
4. No more straining your eyes trying to figure out your bud's handwriting. What is that scribbled in the margin? I should what?? Go eff myself?! (I seriously thought someone had written that once. Tears formed in my eyes, my heart rate went off the charts. It was all very dramatic. But no, it was just sloppy handwriting & I eventually figured out what it said--I can't remember, but it was *not* that I should eff myself.)
5. Those ink cartridges for your printer? You know, the ones that send that unpleasant spike to your credit card bill every few months? No more! And you don't have to buy paper either! (*Edited in after scififanatic reminded me of this glorious reason to go green!*)

So there you go, my first soap box. If you are a diehard paper lover, and this just doesn't work for you, by all means, paper away! Above all, you gotta do what works for you! Great writing comes first. In my universe, the planet: she doesn't turn without fantastic books.

PS: If you are looking to actually do the annotations (comment bubbling) on your phone, the PDF file will not allow this. It's like a photo. Only for looking. Oooh, pretty. Yeah, okay, you get the picture.

BUT!

Darling Cynthia Leitich Smith posted my interview with her here! http://cynleitichsmith.livejournal.com/217121.html She's been running a series called CRAFT, CAREER & CHEER. So go find out my favorite writing book - and the story of three crazy writer girls, jumbo muffins, and upcoming goodies! Ten days ago I wrote THE END on the first draft of my current WIP - working title: THE TRAITEUR'S DAUGHTER - which my gorgeous editor has now suggested we change due to the fact that most people will not know what a "Traiteur" is. I agree so I wasn't surprised by her email. Titles are SO hard, but I'll find the perfect one. I will. I must! I'll ask my title whiz kid Jared. He named my last book, THE LAST SNAKE RUNNER, and it was a keeper. He has to earn his college fund somehow! The PROBLEM: I haven't touched said WIP in the last 10 days. Thus, panic is running rampant and time is running out FAST for revisions. But today I got actually got a few moments here: And drank this: and got warm.

Sorry I have been MIA for a while.

I have been working on 2 WIPS. This is weird for me since I am usually a 1 WIP girl.

Anyway, I am sorta thinking that BOTH of them are lame.

WAH!

A week ago, it was 17 degrees, I was still cold wearing 3-5 layers (depending on body part) on my run, and every time I blinked I could feel how cold my eyeballs were. I also ran the fastest time I had run all year.

Today, it was 49 degrees when I went running. Warm! I shed my hat, and then my jacket, and then I got a wild hair and took off my long-sleeved T, leaving me in just a running tank and reflective vest (and pants and shoes of course). It was fun to see the double takes from people driving by and some PGE folks working on some lines. And I ran the fastest time I've all year, beating last week's record by 9 seconds.