Every unpublished novelist knows how slowly the wheels of publishing turn when you’re waiting to hear about a submission. I surely was in that boat for years as I sent out submissions, and they boomeranged back after a few months. Now, as I wait for the wheels of the publishing machine to turn for my own book, I realize that waiting is part and parcel of this side of the industry, as well. Sigh. Patience is not one of my virtues.

One bit of good news: Harper has asked for an author photo for their catalog, which I’m guessing means that they really are going to publish SOUL ENCHILADA. We took the photo with the middle one’s new camera, and I worked some PhotoShop magic to make myself look better–it wasn’t easy, I tell you what. We’ll see the results when the Winter ‘09 catalog comes out.

Teen #1: “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
Mom: “The egg. Eggs were around a long time before the chicken.”

Today’s vocabulary lesson–Smarticle

The Urban Dictionary defines the term “smarticle” as:

(adj) Describing someone/something being smart, smart in nature. Ironically uses incorrect grammar. Usually used in an informal or joking fashion

“The girl read her smarticle answer out loud to the class.”
“That was quite a smarticle maneuver, he thought.”

That’s all well and good because we know the UD has the inside dope on every bizarre language usage, most of them sexual (which leads me to believe that the UD was created or at least fed by adolescent males, whatever their ages), but I have it on good information that smarticle has a different definition:

(noun) The smallest measurement of intelligence. A portmanteau of “smart” and “particle.”

“If you’re going to pass calculus, you’ve got to make sure all your smarticles are aligned.”
“That girl’s brain can make the Kessel Run in less than twelve smarticles.”

There are ways to increase your smarticle load. Eat well (chocolate), lots of sleep (til noon, preferably), and exercise (Guitar Hero aerobic pantomiming). Also, you can decrease smarticles at a rapid rate, just by watching Hanna Montana or Corey in the House.

Source: Teen #2

But I’m not.

http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6517352.html?nid=3323.  Scroll down.

Liz Gallagher’s novel, The Opposite of Invisible, is making its debut!  Here’s the review I posted awhile ago:

“Alice is a Seattle teenager who seeks advice from a poster. She has two tree-hugger parents, one good friend, and an endless thirst for vanilla lattes. What she’d really like, though, is a boyfriend, someone, anyone who will notice her, so she asks her poster-advisor, Dove Girl, to send one her way. The problem is, two boys answer the call. One is Simon, the hot football player who works as an octopus volunteer. The other is Jewel, Alice’s lifelong best friend, who now wants to be more. How does Alice decide between the two when she wants to keep them both? The answer is, she can’t have them both, and she has to decide–what is important, being noticed or being in love?

Liz Gallagher’s debut novel is a terrific first-person narrative that deftly explores teenage relationships and social expectations. The characters of Alice and Jewel are fresh and honest, as well as three-dimensional. When I picked up this galley, I was wary, I admit. Novels about a teen girl’s first love aren’t my cup of Sumatra. But after three pages, I was hooked on Alice’s voice and Gallagher’s prose. This is a good one, folks. Keep your eyes peeled for THE OPPOSITE OF INVISIBLE, coming out in January ‘08 from Wendy Lamb Books.”

Whaddya waiting for?  Go join the launch party at Class of 2k8!

lalala

One of the delightful things about getting ARCs is being among the first readers to lay hands on a remarkable book and then having the pleasure of shouting from the mountaintops about this exquisite thing you’ve found (or, um, had mailed to you). It must be the same feeling that editors get when an “it” manuscript crosses their desks.

THE ADORATION OF JENNA FOX is that kind of book.

The story starts many years in the future as Jenna Fox wakes up from a year-long coma. Her parents have moved her from frigid Boston to warm California, where they live in a ramshackled house in what’s left of a neighborhood after a post-apocalyptical earthquake. Jenna is living an apocalypse of her own. She has no memory of her previous life. She has no friends, no sense of home, no relationships with anyone other than her parents and grandmother. But Jenna does sense that something’s amiss. Her parents are tip-lipped about the accident that put her in a coma. She hears voices of people who don’t exist. She’s not allowed to leave the house alone. She’s not allowed to eat or drink, either. And there’s that locked room upstairs that seems to hold answers to her many questions–answers that her parents don’t want her to have.

I’ve just skimmed the surface of this brilliantly-plotted novel, for fear that I’ll give away too many story elements. Mary Pearson is able to weave elements of mystery, ecology, biotechnology, and scientific ethics while wowing with a strong-voiced main character who has us rooting for her every step of the way.

If you’ve got an ARC of this one, put it on the top of your stack. You won’t be sorry.

Having optioned David Lubar’s intellectual property for the princely sum of $0 (aka, I’m blatantly stealing his idea of posting resolutions at the end of the year in order to assure accuracy), I’m now ready to post my 2007 Resolutions.

1. Finish the YA urban supernatural novel (YAUS) I began in 2006.
2. Join a kick-ass critique group.
3. Get an agent for YAUS.
4. Sell YAUS to a publisher.
5. Become ALAN President.
6. Lose 100 pounds.
7. Eat sushi from a conveyor belt in Japan.
8. Meet my role model, David Lubar, and let him turn my last name into a pun in front of 497 teachers and librarians.
9. Shave.

All in all, I predict a pretty good year. Except the shaving thing. Ow.