appreciating what i've got, holiday monday

shhh. new york city is quiet. no the rapture hasn't come (pffft, like any of us would be beamed up;)), this is what happens when hundred of thousands of people all flee the same place at the same time. quiet, urban bliss.

i imagine someplace with beaches and beach houses is swelled from our run off right now. their streets are packed with traffic and all the cavorting families we've given up. haHA! is all i can think.

haHA! right back, those place would say. with or without tourists, we still have lovely ocean breezes, sand, and calmness. you just have buildings, heat, and a weird urine-y smell. an apocalypse movie, basically, is what you're left with.

so? i'll take it. i went into the city a few times this week. everywhere the streets were filled with tourists. tourists with maps, tourists on tours, tourists dining next to us trying to wrangle down the prices in restaurants. (sorry, but what state's people do that?)

today this places feels like it's all mine. just mine. and i wouldn't trade that feeling for a sandy beach ever.

wait a second. i'd trade that feeling for a sandy beach in a second. less than a second. do you have a sandy beach? may i come to it? do you have a trunk i can ride to a sandy beach in? i take up very little space. did i mention nyc is supposed to be 95 degrees today?

get me outta here!

and a very happy memorial day to you :)

A squirrel stalking a woman.

how much weight can you carry?

something is in the air in newyorkcity.

do you ever get that sense about where you live? that something is just up? my own writerly mood swings aside, this felt like a week of monumental living. parents went into the hospital for long overdue treatments. people left and shifted jobs. lots more people seemed to up and move out of state. family members were (still are) struggling to be together after years of separation. babies were born. 

i have a friend who got in a fight this week. a fight! half his face looks like the elephant man. i had to close one eye and hold up a hand to block out the damaged side when i spoke to him. worse than the bloated disgustingness and bright red eye was imagining someone wailing on him to create it.

i have a terrible memory. i don't remember song titles or who wrote what, never mind the name of the person i met two minutes ago, but i'll always remember the sage advice that came at the end of Tom Robbin's novel, Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates. the story follows a man who's looking for a yogi who's figured out the meaning of life. it turns out that the yogi is a parrot, but his wisdom?

PEOPLE OF ZEE WORLD RELAX!

that's right. deep breaths everyone. it's friday. also, speaking of words of wisdom, have you seen this article about fiction writing advice from lots of famous authors? no? here t'is:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one

this is supposed to be my BEA recap blog. and it is. but it ain't easy seeing big bruised faces. so this will also be my: Ain't Life Also Grand Blog, which will end with a tiny picture of Jacques Torres.

but first, three little letters. BEA.

that's right, BookExpoAmerica came to NYC this week. think the auto show, but with books, famous authors, and lots of little conference tables where people in suits are having important looking conversations. fine. it's nothing like the auto show, but it is held at the same place. and the best distinction? for only the cost of a really expensive ticket, you get to leave with loads of books that haven't been officially published yet. like this one:

get it? he's a jani-TOR. awesome.

now you might be asking, yes, but for the price of a very expensive ticket, exactly how many free books do you get to leave with? well, this many:

even better? some of these books are signed! so this week i met Harlan Coben, who said, HI THERE! in a booming voice, and i said in a teeny voice, hi i'm corrie.

i also met Lauren Oliver, who i can no longer secretly envy and despise. for those of you who aren't YA fanatics. Lauren Oliver wrote a compulsively, must keep reading even though my house is on fire book called Before I Fall. she's part of/creator of a book packaging company in Brooklyn and she's pretty and young and apparently likes shoes, which means she probably has awesome ones. (though not my hot granny green ones, i'll bet ya, so booyah).

now anyone that knows corrie (ugh, there's that 3rd person self-reference again) knows that she can get a little competitive. so when i saw LO signing books, my first thought was, pfft. so what? i'm not waiting in her line. but then the geeky corrie who loves to read and truly admires this author won out, snuck into the line at the last minute, and got the last copy of Delirium.

and you know what? Lauren Oliver, was really, really nice. and after my horrible-my WIP is never going to be published-what does it all mean-WHY AM I HERE-week this is what she wrote:

thanks for being here. i know she meant BEA. but i chose to read it as thanks for being here in NYC. here in the YA world. just here. sigh. isn't Lauren Oliver the greatest?

now that i'm fully coming off as psycho (i mean, who has friends that get in fights?), let me just say that though free books are great, they're also very heavy. what started as BEA wild eyed awe and book grabbing greed turned into two tote bag dragging, why the hell did i wear my hot, granny shoes to this thing? exhaustion.

so my awesome crit parter, um, borrowed us some sandwiches from an exhibitors table:

and then i tottered/trudged the heck out of there.

couldn't be there? don't worry, you didn't miss much. truly. eventually, all these books will be coming to a bookstore or library near you. even the not-yet-copy-edited-ARC i have of Jay Asher's new book. mwahahaha. or i'll hold one of those contests and send you a copy.

and although BEA was great (as was hip hop class that same evening), in some ways, yesterday was better.

i started writing again. with no struggle or breaks. it felt marvelous. in the evening i met my friend at the brooklyn museum for a movie. while i waited for her, i watched a high school marching band practice on the museum steps. i shot a video, which of course didn't come out. but the band was awesome. dressed in sweats and tees, they danced, hopped, and shouted stuff -- we are the tuba section, WHAT! while three teeny little girls got down in front and put my hip hop class to shame.

then it was inside to the movie, Kings of Pastry. which i think is airing on PBS tonight. if so, watch it! it was phenomenal. and only in NYC, where people apparently still get in fights, struggle to reconnect with their family, leave jobs and move out of state on seeming whims, does Jacques Torres come to sit in on a movie screening and answer questions at the end. see? he's the tiny blob on the far right:

so here's to hoping the air clears up this week. here's to healthier living. here's to free books and to people of zee world relax.

also, here's to you, my friends and blog readers. thank you for being here.

a smashed success

my no more moping party has come and gone. (if you have no idea what i'm talking about, please visit last friday's blog). being the good blogger that i am, here is my pictoral recap.

thanks to no service on the 1 train, my no more moping night began ten long blocks from where it was supposed to. since my cohort for the evening encountered the same train problems, i arrived ahead of her and had the pleasure of waiting alone on the ugliest street corner in new york city, otherwise known as varrick and canal. whilst waiting, i did what any normal person does. i took candid photos of myself, while pretending not to take candid photos of myself. despite the slight double chin, here's the best one:

you can't see it in this picture. but a rain drop had just smacked me on the forehead. two seconds later it poured. though i'd brought an extra pair of shoes for dancing and six different lip glosses, i left my umbrella at home. i hid the doorway of the Jackie Robinson Museum (coming this fall!). a few minutes later, my friend arrived. she didn't have an umbrella either. or the directions for how to get to my no more moping party.

20 minutes later, we arrived at my party, a little wet, a little late, and unbeknownst to me, i arrived as a man:

who you callin' mister?

i wasn't aware of it, but my no more moping party was a black tie affair. gowns and tuxedos abounded. for a second i felt a wee bit out of place (though no one else's nails matched their shoes, booyah!). then i spotted the champagne. did you know that three glasses of champagne consumed in rapid succession makes for instant happy? no? here's evidence:

thus ensued a wedding. blah blah blah. love me forever? probably. you? sure why not. good. done.

then ensued what everyone had really come for -- cocktail hour on the rooftop. the sun had begun to set. new jersey sparkled across the water. behind us the empire state building glowed blue and yellow. and this, this people, is the photograph i captured:

beautiful, no? let's call this picture: one final glass of champagne and hello, vodka drinks!

now, i don't like to discuss drinking on my blog since, in theory, a young person will one day read my posts. so, non-existent young people who aren't reading this blog anyway, cover your ears. at my no more moping party, i consumed the world's dirtiest martini. the bartender described it as "fish tank" dirty. which is about as disgusting as it sounds. see below my response:

that's right. there in the upper right hand corner? it was cosmo time!

also, it was sushi time. might i congratulate whoever invented the wedding sushi bar? might i also congratulate american culture for so readily embracing this delectable cuisine. ten years ago, sushi was an exotic treat. now we're tossing it back as hors devours.

it got cold on that lovely rooftop so we no more mopers were called inside for dinner. first, there was another cosmo. and ew, though i'd forgotten it until right now, a shot of tequila. out of a wine glass. (who the heck's idea was that?) which looks like this:

do you see my eye starting to do that weird thing? do you see my face get longer? do you see my liver shriveling up?

there were boring men at my table, but there were really fun women. there was dancing. there was filet mignon. there were more cosmos:

a few hours later there was a corrie who wasn't at all mopey, but who was very, very -- ears still covered chitlins? -- inebriateday. which is pig latin for drunk:

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: just because the alcohol is free, does not mean you need to consume all of it.

well, at least my party was a success. who's got space for moping, when a hangover headache threatens to make your head explode?

ta-dah and happy monday!

i do...vow not to mope anymore

it's no secret that i've been a little glum ever since i heard that my WIP won't be ready for spring/summer submission and is going to have to wait until fall. presuming i can nail the edits.

but Rome wasn't built by a glum bunch. actually, Rome probably was built by a glum bunch. but the point is, it got built anyway.

so there will be no more moping! if i can edit my WIP in just over two weeks. i can knock these corrections out of the park in a few months and start on my next idea, to boot. and what better way to kick off no more moping?

a giant no more moping party!

that's right. two people i have never met will be throwing me a giant, no more moping party in Tribeca tomorrow night. knowing me as they don't, there will be food, dancing, free drinks and a large tiered cake of some sort. (i don't know what kind of cake yet. i'm hoping for vanilla with a buttercream frosting. yes. i am a simple girl.)

yesterday, i finished my no more moping party shopping. so now i'm fully prepared.

expensive jewelry?

check.

slinky black dress at the cleaners being delicately drycleaned?

check check.

spa booked for expertly done mani/pedi?

check. check. check.

hot mama shoes?

oh goodness yes. check. check. check. check. check.

i wish i could invite you to my no moping party. but it's kind of an exclusive, invite only event. turns out, this couple are incidentally getting married at the exact same location and time as my party! i know, what a drag.

but i hope you'll whoop it up with me anyway! tomorrow, find something to celebrate and celebrate it hard. maybe celebrating it hard means treating yourself to one more glass of wine at dinner. maybe it means kicking off your shoes and allowing yourself to enjoy a night of tv and takeout guilt-free. whatever it is, let the world throw you a party.

all the better if you're the only person who knows that's what it's doing.

where the boys at?

it has come to my attention, that boys no longer read.

how do we know this? sales records. why is this? video games.

therefore if you write a book for boys (which is exactly what me being me and my ever unpublishable ideas is doing) the current thought is that it must be as exciting as video games. otherwise it won't hold their attention. thus it won't sell. thus it'll never make it out of the gate.

there is no way i can hope to win this battle. in my novel hundreds of zombies/aliens/nazis are not killed every minute. my plot line is not crafted into life-like graphics. you can not level up. (though by goodness this should be happening in my novels!)

since we all know boys are dumb (oops, sorry, the boys i'm talking about are solely the ones in my dating pool) the boys don't read thing worries me for mainly one reason. what happens when these boys turn into men? if good reading habits are established in our youth, then poor poor adult book market. in about fifteen, twenty years, you're in for an even bigger decline.

let's take a break in the action. this is what happens when you get over-zealous
and order library books online. they all come at once.

ok. i lied. boys not reading worries me for another reason. that means that only girls are reading. and again, looking ahead, that means goodbye brilliant fiction (wait. is anyone writing brilliant fiction anymore? recommendations please.) hello romance novels.

no seriously. if you've tried to write anything YA lately, i'm sure you've heard: "That is the most ground-breaking, thought provoking novel for teens i've ever read. Except, erm, one problem. Where's the sappy romance plotline." and not just romance. they need ROMANCE.

so if the publishing industry is to be believed: boys are only interested in blowing things up and finding hidden  treasures/mob bosses/racing car upgrades. and girls are only interested in, well, boys.

for shame! i say. and also, fo 'shizzle and word 'em up dun dun dun dun. if we pander only to the market that exists we risk alienating one that could exist. we stop producing new, inspiring, creative books. we ensure that boys will never read and that girls will get bored and burn out on cheesy romance plotlines and they'll stop reading too.

in one of the books pictured above a main character is IMing her best friend who's asking about the boy she just met. "do you love him?"

wtf? would have been my response. we met a week ago.

a few chapters earlier, a total stranger told the same girl: "i like this one. keep him." argh! thanks author. you're dooming generations of girls to have the unrealistic expectation that the very first boy they meet ought to be/will be the person they keep. that's like binding a girl to her very first cellphone. nevermind upgrades or that her needs for the phone will change over time. nope sorry, you picked the one with the flippy uppy keyboard. just forget about all those other models. for life.

am i veering off track? is the chip on my shoulder that obvious? yes? apologies.

i should go anyway. i need to focus on the edits for my boy protagonist novel. because it's kick-ass and the few days it would take someone to read it are well worth setting aside the controller. even though no one swoons or stays in love forever. (though a few people do die. dun dun dun.)

ultimately, these sale driven shoulds just raise the bar. it makes those of us who aren't writing specifically to what sells, write better. inturn this means in the future when that lone boy does pick up a book (my little cuz alex has picked up lots in his life, so there!) he is going to be BLOWN AWAY.

or, at least, here's to hoping.

a weirdly written monday

dear corrie's blog,

today isn't really a good day to be posting. corrie's brain is a little all over the place at the moment.  mostly, it keeps going back to the thought of another year. after a talk with the agent today, it seems that it will be at least another year before corrie sells a book.

which isn't bad. not really. not in the grand scheme. not when corrie's agent keeps telling her she has a long career of selling books in front of her.

but before any of that can happen, corrie either needs to massively revamp a current work or write a completely new novel that is little more than a few pages of notes.

daunted. that could be the word of the day, blog. because a year feels like a long time to continue a day job that is exhausting. a year is not today or next month or yesterday for that matter, when you're ready to have a little success.

so blog, today we will look on the bright side.

corrie is massively revamping and writing from scratch two novels that will be phenomenal when finished. corrie is working a day job that let's her write during the day and pays for things like fancy dinners out, dentist appointments, and new nail polish colors. it also allows her to eat a giant bowl of buttery mashed potatoes every evening. corrie's blinked away years doing less fun things and living less fun places than here.

and now blog, i must sign off because this is a truly weird post. maybe, everyone, just read friday's blog instead. hopefully by wednesday, corrie won't be referring to herself first person anymore.

muchos besos,
corrie

ps here's a picture of Henry VIII's armor. cool right?

if-my-boot-straps-were-any-longer-they'd-be-suspenders friday

oh dear.

on tuesday i received news from my agent that my WIP is just that, a work that needs more progress. this is the opposite of the reviews i expected. namely, that my WIP is exactly the fabulous YA novel i know it to be. that in a few months it will sell a million copies and pull me instantly from the drudge of day jobs.

enter the freak out. the wrist thrown to the forehead. the dramatic emails to friends and family. though i haven't quite exited the freak out stage, i have family here (thank freakin' goodness) to distract me. come saturday when they leave, i'll resume doing what i always do.

write every day. plod along. get back to level.

eventually life will be great again. the WIP will be tighter. i'll start dreaming about book auctions, huge advances, and movie deals once more.

until then, here is a video that my dad sent me. it's not everyday your dad sends a suggestion for the blog. scratch that. your dad never sends me blog suggestions. *winky face*

it's fitting, too. a record of difficult tasks carried out over great distances.

also, below that is a repost of my "in the middle video," 'cause this week i need reminding that life is a work in progress, too, and the "in middle part" should be as cherished as the rest of it. 

and yes, my wrist is still firmly planted against my forehead.

vacation

no, i'm not going anywhere. i'd like to. i saw a friend's pictures of her tennessee trip and i was salivating. it could have had something to do with the brunch pics, but also, the open road, the bright, non-urban hues -- they're all escapes my body is craving.

instead my vacation is coming to me. my parents are coming!

depending on the parents, this can sound pretty unvacation-like. but mine are cool. we hang really well together. i love seeing them in the city. you can't beat being with the people you know best in totally fresh environments. the new adventures always bring out the best in us. (hi mom! can't wait)

so anyhoo, today it's clean, clean, clean.

tomorrow it's grocery shop, grocery shop, grocery shop.

can't promise the blog'll be great this week, but, hey, it's my vacation. i'm supposed to be slacking off.

by the way, it's friday

last night, i was at a bar with a friend when a stranger said to me, "by the way, i like your wolf t-shirt."

well, it wasn't my t-shirt (though that's not going to stop me from wearing it again today). but what i appreciated about that sentence was the by the way.  nothing had come before the compliment. nothing came after.

but it got me thinking, why don't we start more conversations this way? especially with strangers. it's so much more intimate. it makes it sound like what you have to say is so much more valuable. and you could probably unleash some great honest gems with it.

by the way, it's not polite to speak to your busser that way. or, keep it friendly, by the way, that's a great lipstick shade for you.

aren't we all just in the middle of one big convesation anyway? if we'll never connect with 98 percent of the people we meet further than one or two sentences aren't all our remarks by the ways?

this is coming from a girl that no longer has a solid grasp on the spoken english language.

yesterday on the way to the bar, i commented to my friend how it would be fun to see a graffiti artist actually at work. one of my favorite things to do while waiting for the subway is looking to see how all the movie posters have been defaced. it's never anything brilliant. jennifer aniston is missing a tooth. george clooney has zombie eyes. you know, usual stuff. but it's funny.

my friend looked at me and said, "you realize you just said, 'i wanna see it when they do that stuff to those things.'"

clearly, i am best when edited.

12 days to go and sprouting new ideas

done. finished. two weeks ahead of time the WIP is in first reader's hands. yippee! i can stop the count down, the pressure is off.

now it's on to a new idea. (please envision a balloon deflating).

where do ideas come from? that's my question of the day. in the past mine have sprung up when least expected -- off of a conversation with a stranger, an idea from a radiolab episode, and even once, a fortune cookie.

maybe, idea-getting is like gardening.

WARNING: YOU ARE ENTERING THE SECTION OF BLOG WHERE CORRIE MAKES ADEQUATE CREATIVITY ANALOGY AND SHOWS OFF NEW STOOP PLANTERS AT SAME TIME.

you start with an odd assortment of ideas:

then you separate out the ones you want to give life to:

hopefully, resulting in something beautiful:

part of the fun of being on the idea-getting side is that while everyone else only gets to see the pretty end result, you're privy to the mess it required to get it there:

and BOOYAH, that makes use of all my photos. (i know, they ain't great, but pouring rain does not stop for the grasping blogger).

happy wednesday all.

a lucky 13 days to go

i think i can come in a full two weeks ahead of schedule with this WIP and finish either today or tomorrow. but that means plugging away this morning before work. so i've got to go!!!

happy monday all!

my power breakfast.