Why Can't I Be The Judge?

I know they tell us not to judge a book by its cover, but I can't help it.

A few weeks ago, while I was at Walmart, I picked up copies of the first two books in James Patterson's Maximum Ride series. The first is called The Angel Experiment, and the second is School's Out--Forever. I'd read them in freshman year -- which feels like forever ago even though it wasn't -- but never had a chance to finish the series. I was going to get the third and fourth installments in the series -- Saving The World and Other Extreme Sports and The Final Warning -- but Walmart didn't have them. I figured, what the hell, I'll get it another time.

So today, when I made a pit stop at Books A Million (I would live there if at all possible -- how much rent do you think they'd charge?), I headed straight to Teen Fiction and the little display of Patterson novels. And, while looking at the various editions of STWAOE and TFW, I realized just how important a cover can be.

There were so many different choices, far beyond the standard 'hardcover or paperback?' Some copies had one picture on the front, others had another, and still more had another. Some had pictures that wrapped around the spine while others went for the crisp colored background and text. Some were a shimmery holographic paper, others were just a glossy sheen. And then there were different fonts and the list just went on and on.

The Virgo in me wanted to get copies that matched the ones I'd already purchased from Walmart -- paperback, shimmery, wrap-around pictures, nice clean font. Took me about fifteen minutes, but I found them. They look quite lovely on my bookshelf.

Packaging, as much as I hate to say it, is clearly a big deal. The cover has to be visually interesting in order for someone to pick it up with no other information, right? That's how I ended up with a lot of books -- Darkest Powers, Frostbite, Bag of Bones. Something about the cover, and the title too, has to say something to whoever's walking through the aisles at the book store: Pick me!

Here's a quick recap of some of my favorite covers:

I would've never picked this up if that red pendant hadn't caught my eye.

Such a simple concept, it stood out from the mass of flashy books.

I can hear the growling now.

So what about you? Any book ever caught your eye simply by the cover? Has any book ever had a great cover, and then totally failed as you started to read it? What are you favorite books, and did those covers do them justice? You know where to leave 'em. ;)

An Interview With Myself

CG: Hello, Self. How are you doing today?

CG: [Sniffles.] Pretty poorly, as my allergies hate me today. To be honest, about five minutes ago my nose practically exploded the average amount of rainfall in the Amazon--

CG: Yes, I'm sure that's a lovely picture. [Clears throat.] But what are you working on today?

CG: [Rubs sleep from eyes.] Umm, I don't know. I started a fanfiction last night because Marguerite and I had been talking about pigeons and--

CG: Are you even slightly coherent right now? Why are we doing this if you can't even make yourself sound charming?

CG: I've never been good at charming and you know it.

CG: But you can at least fake it--

CG: In text. Sometimes. If I'm lucky.

CG: Which is why we're not recording this and we're writing it out.

CG: But we're typing.

CG: Details, details...

CG: Okay, okay. Let's start over. What was the question?

CG: What are you working on?

CG: [In an aside to Self:] Do I lie or--

CG: [Evil glare.]

CG: Okay then. Umm... I'm working on a fanfiction. But I'm also working on Demonized, the first in what I hope will be a four part series. (I've already got titles going in my head: Demonized, Tracked, Seized, and Delivered.)

CG: The famous one-sentence plot... Go!

CG: Teagan Parks has been told her whole life that Demons are horrible creatures, but on her sixteenth birthday, she becomes one, and has to go live in the tunnels they've created called the Underworld. As she discovers this new world--

CG: FAIL! That's two sentences.

CG: Technically one and a half--

CG: Still, fail! If you can't get your plot down to one sentence, you have work to do. Try again.

CG: [Sighs.] When homeless Teagan Parks wakes up on her sixteenth birthday Branded with the sign of the Demon, she goes to live in the Underworld, only to realize that this is not the home she needs... Better?

CG: We're getting there. Slowly.

CG: Sigh.

===

Clearly, I'm writing today. Er, trying. Arguing with myself doesn't help much, does it?

Adventures in Bibliomania

Stepping out of the store into the blazing Florida heat, she knows what she must do. Or, rather, what she wants to do. It's burning a hole in her pocket, and that combined with the unnaturally warm spring temperatures, forces the fever to set in. She strides across the parking lot, hops into her mother's Ford Windstar, and fumbles to turn on the air conditioning before she dies in this oven called a car.

Vents directed at her face don't help. The fever is still there. The little flame of excitement is keeping her from focusing on the radio, which is playing a great song that normally would be ramped up and blasted out open windows, off-key singing barely heard over the bass line.

She shouldn't. She knows it. But if not now, when? If not now, ever?

She puts the car in gear and finds herself in the McDonald's drive-thru, buying a small mocha frappe for $2.12, hoping this will help more than the air conditioning.

It doesn't.

She heads home, the radio still quiet, almost mute, and tries to think of other things. Her mind swims through a historical account of an Angel named Lucas, a Demon named Teagan, and a grandmother named Marion. This doesn't help. She only wonders how likely they would end up bleeding from her mind to her laptop, from her laptop to a manuscript, and eventually into a published boooo...

Don't say it. Don't think it. Don't finish the thought.

The fever is so high that she knows it won't go away on its own, won't fizzle out like a cold or a headache. It needs medication. It needs a fix. She is the addict with the connections to the dealer. That connection, a piece of paper so unobtrusive you would think it made her happy, was tucked away in her purse. But it was calling, whining, begging her. Just do it. Go for it. What else would you do with it?

Her first paycheck, measly in relation to her needs, is asking to be spent on something frivilous.

But she knows better -- doesn't she? She pulls into her driveway, puts the van in park, and unwittingly finds herself doing mental calculations. If she set this amount aside, and then was frugal with all her other purchases and plans, maybe... Just maybe...

No. Not happening. She snatches up her things and goes inside, climbing the stairs to her room, but realizing too late that this is the worst place for someone jonesing to go.

She has two bookshelves in her room, but they aren't the only place she keeps the paper dope. Books are piled on her bed, in her chair, on her desk and dresser, and one even sits on the floor, cracked open to a favorite scene, the smell of libraries wafting up and out of the seam like an oversized joint.

She scrambles to pick up all the offending material, shoves them onto the shelves, tries blocking the shelf from view with a box fan, but nothing works. Her eyes are drawn to them, knowing that she has the power to enlarge her collection, even if only by a few additions...

She has to leave the room. Has to get away from the books. But at the computer five minutes later, she's finding out if they have the titles she wants at the nearest book store.

The fever consumes. It's too late. She texts her best friend, knowing she at least needs someone to regulate the habit... Or maybe make it worse.

"Wanna tag along to BAM?" she asks. Books-A-Million. Her favorite book store. The one that smells so gloriously like coffee and ink, binding and paper, the one that is just as quiet as any library but ten times more current.

Her friend says yes. They go. Three hours later, a third of her paycheck is gone, but its worth it.

Books. She slides into her chair at home and cracks open the latest in a series she is obsessed with. Diving in is lighting up, and she knows its silly...

But she sticks her nose in the binding anyway, inhaling.

Goodbye fever, hello plot line.

The Zone

So I have this new job, right? And I have this new thing called a 'life', too, which I hear is very nice to most people. But I am always quite frustrated with mine. It keeps me from doing my favorite things. I think I might return it, but I lost the receipt, and it has been awhile since I actually purchased it in '91...

Okay, not really. I like being busy. Lately. But only because, now that I'm running around all the time, it feels like there's less time in the day to procrastinate... which I've been told I'm rather good at. Like, black belt good. Chuck Norris good.

Now, I don't know if most writerly types are like this, or if it's just me, but now that there's less time in the day to sit around thinking about writing... I realize I kind of have to get to the actual typing/creating/plotting/etc, or else I'd just end up with a blank page every day.

I'll use last week as an example. I work part-time, so I only get a fifteen minute break during my shifts. I was working a four hour long shift on Thursday, and for the first two hours, I kept thinking about this fanfiction I was working on.

Yes, I write fanfiction. I think I started out writing Harry Potter fanfiction with friends when we couldn't stand waiting for the last two or three books to come out. So I was about fourteen. At the time, it was just the "what if" thing I was chasing, and then the following year, a friend of mine interrupted me while we were talking on the phone. I was saying something along the lines of this:

"I was working on this fanfic for awhile until I realized my plot lines were getting all mixed up. You know that one story I'm writing for English? I finished the rough draft, and Miss Swindell said it's really good, just needs edits. So I've been editing that while writing the fanfic, and I guess I need to seperate them when I'm working, because--"

"Hey Chrissy?"

"What?" Yeah, I'm so freakin' eloquent I give John Green a run for his money.

"You should be a writer."

"Haha. Funny."

"Seriously! If you don't want to write, what do you want to do?"

Pause. "Uhm, is surfing the web a career?"

It's not.

But anyway, after that, and after thinking about it, I decided I really did like writing. A lot. A lot a lot. So I started using my fanfictions as practice, kind of like warm ups, to see if I was even cut out for it. The imagining of the universe is all done for you; you just have to supply the plot.

Fast forward a few years, and I'm still reading/writing fanfictions, focusing more on mechanics, characterization, and plot. I'm not embarrassed to admit I write/read it either. Some people are, because it's 'nerdy', 'weird', or 'obsessive', but really, it's about what any writing is about: story. Escaping into a story.

Perhaps that should've been a post on its own.

ANYWAY -- like I was sayin' -- I was working, thinking about my fanfiction (which is not a Harry Potter fanfiction, oddly enough), and by the time my break came around, I was running to my locker. I keep a notebook in my purse for exactly these occasions, and I flipped to a blank page and jotted down about six pages worth of dialogue. I'd add the narrative later when I had time, but as the scene was pure conversation, it was important to get the dialogue down before I forgot it.

Normally, I would've let that simmer in my head for awhile before maybe writing it down. But I didn't have time to procrastinate; I had work! And when there's work, there's only so much time for fun.

Which is why I love writing so much. It's fun. It's frustrating and makes you want to rip your hair out or gouge out your eyeballs (yes, it's true), but it's so much fun. The pure enjoyment makes it totally worth the agony.

The best part about that break was I didn't have to think about it. I didn't have to force myself into the creative space of my brain. The lights were already on, the air conditioning was blasting, and the generators were humming. Someone or something had opened up shop for me already. No prep time required. Instant zone.

And when I had to get back to work, I just left the Zone running. Amazingly, it was still ready when I came back.

Now I'm just wondering if there's going to be a whopping imaginary-electricity bill in the mail at the end of the month.

"What, what the hell is this?!"

Ten Things That Made My Day a Good One:

1. DUNKIN DONUTS♥
2. Being extra hyper with my dahling best friend
3. Trying on dresses for the hell of it
4. Getting home in time for FRINGE♥
5. Deciding to buy said dress because I'm in love with it
6. Getting to work alone
7. Challenging myself instead of meeting expectations
8. Getting my schedule for next week
9. Singing really loudly to Savior by Rise Against in the car with the windows down
10. Singing Granger Danger from A Very Potter Musical five seconds later... at a red light

Yeah. Today was excellent. Work and the doctors tomorrow. I'll have a better blog this weekend!

"What's extra funny is I've never been to Indiana."

I'm super tired and not much up for blogging right now but I wanted to get my list of ten things in. My first day at work was crappy (which I expected it to be), and the way the folks are acting I know it's a day where I need to do this. Hopefully it'll make me feel better. =]

Ten Things That Made My Day a Good One:

1. Music
2. Movies (specifically one with a werewolf in it)
3. Writing
4. Spending my break jotting down plotpoints for the fanfic I told you about
5. My new Indiana Jones ringtone =]
6. MORE reviewers (I thrive on it now lol)
7. Air conditioning
8. Water bottles
9. The ability to hold in a sneeze
10. Cuddling with my dog

I'm a little better. But only a little. I think venting would help, but I don't want to complain about silly things.

So there ya go. Be back tomorrow? =]

Freakin' Adjectively Awesome

You wanna know something funny? Something so entirely weird and amazing and happy and scary yet completely and amazingly adjectively hilarious?

Life seems to like me right now.

I mean it. And, though I am superstitious, I don't feel the need to knock on wood as I type that.

But now that I think about it... *knocks on wooden desk*

Just in case.

Anyway, life likes me. Today was my orientation at my new job, and while I had no idea how to fill out tax papers or how to ask the right questions, I feel... Scared. Oh yeah. Scared to death. My first real day is tomorrow, and early, which has never been my best time of day.

But I am hopeful, and I am fearless, in the sense that I have a lot of fears but I plow on anyway. In the hopes of a paycheck (with which I will buy many many books... and probably a filing cabinet).

And, in a weird twist of fate, I've never had words come so easily to me. It seems the less time I have, the most I make of the time I do have, and therefore write a little more... not effortlessly, but perhaps less-effortly. If such a word exists.

I wrote a fanfiction (the first in a long, long time), and posted it two days ago. Since then, I've gotten fourteen reviews, all positive, and most constructive. I feel kind of giddy, and because I left the ending open a little bit and...
Well, I ended up continuing it. :)

And (for the first time ever I have a THIRD amazingly awesome thing to talk about), I won something! For reals! I was on Twitter last night and-- well, lemme just show you:




Oh yes! I won a copy of The Reckoning by Kelley Armstrong. Isn't that just...Well isn't it just freakin' awesome?!

Yeah, I thought so too. XD

But anyway, I have to get up crazy early tomorrow, and there's only so much time in the day for me to write.

I suppose I work well under pressure. Ha. Who woulda thunk?

Ending with my list of Ten Things tonight (which is very easy to come up with on a day like today).

Ten Things That Made My Day a Good One:

1. Laptops
2. Bobby pins
3. Pens that actually like to work
4. Donuts
5. My dog wagging her tail when I walked through the door :)
6. Reviewers
7. Pressure
8. Email
9. Hand sanitizer
10. Having something to say

Hmm. Hopefully my future lists will be more interesting. :)