West of Mars

If you read my review of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist over at Rocks ‘n Reads, you’ll see the story of how I came to read this book last week.

I was looking over my Netflix queue a day or two later and I realized that Nick and Norah, the movie, wasn’t going to be available for instant watching much longer. In fact, I had something like a day left. So, I interrupted a fine evening outside in the dark, watching the clouds go by, to come inside and fire up the Instant Viewing. Good thing; I had mere hours left before it was gone.

Let me say first off that there are very few movies I like better than the book. Joyce Maynard’s To Die For is possibly the only book that wasn’t as good as the movie. No, not because of Nicole Kidman or Matt Dillon. Because of the power of the visual at the very end. (Saying anything more will spoil it. Just go watch the flick, will ya?)

Now, Nick and Norah had some very good visuals to endear the movie to me. The sight of Nick’s old, beat-up Yugo. And New York itself, looking every bit as good as it did when I roamed it on similar nights (never as long and, regrettably, never with a potential love interest of my own) during my own college youth.

But… the book is a million times better. Not just because we get to hear Nick and Norah’s internal monologues, but because many of the changes made by the writers were poor.

Okay, the whole bit about Nick’s Yugo being mixed up for a taxi was funny. And yes, I howled out loud when the enraptured (ahem) couple actually paid him for the lift.

But the change in the subplot involving Caroline? Like I didn’t see the cell phone being dropped a mile away… it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t even realistic that once she picked it up, it worked.

And the gum? Oh, man. That never lost its ick factor (and if that means I’m old, don’t tell me!).

You may not believe this, but I hated the scenes in Electric Lady Studios. It stretched disbelief that Hendrix’s guitar is sitting there so casually, on a guitar stand and not mounted to be preserved (although, having never been in Electric Lady, it very well could be). But for Norah to tell Nick to go and put it on and try it out? And then to take it into the studio and make music with it? She’s just met this guy, for crying out loud. There are all these trust issues between them, and she hands him a guitar worth millions?

And the tape recording their little tryst on the couch… same thing as with Caroline and the phone. It took away from the beauty of the story, which was these two kids learning to let go, to rise above, and to reach for the possibilities of what lies ahead.

Which means I really missed the book’s scene in the Marriott. There was so much more to that scene than to its replacement, the one in Electric Lady. (Not to mention the subtext introduced by the scene happening in the building Daddy owns and is famous for.) It was a real moment of growth for Norah. We lost all of that, only to be given that horrible sight of the soundboard, recording away. That, too, introduced themes and ideas that don’t belong in this story of newfound love.

One last rant: Nick had a cruel streak to him that, in the book, had belonged to Norah’s boyfriend. It didn’t work for Nick to call Norah frigid. In fact, it made me want her to slug him and walk away, playlist suddenly and inalterably finite.

A lot of the reviews of the book mention the issue of the language. You guys know the word FUCK doesn’t bother me in the least. It didn’t bother me in the book. To me, it helped create atmosphere and authenticity. The sad part is that these critics (as many do with Fat Kid Rules the World, which you know is one of my all-time favorite books) are allowing something so simple to obscure their view of a truly beautiful story.

Stick to the book, folks.

Oh, just go over to LA Stylist Mom. She found ‘em.

If I had these, I’d wear them non-stop. With wool socks to mitigate that sweaty feet factor.

Now, go buy some books so I can afford them, will ya?

Although I haven’t answered a Booking Through Thursday question in awhile (some have been over at Rocks ‘n Reads, if you don’t have my quiet little book blog on your feed reader yet), the weekly prompt still shows up in my own reader.

I had to laugh at this week’s question:

Do you read book reviews? Do you let them change your mind about reading/not reading a particular book?

If you head over to my friend Florinda and her 3 R’s Blog, you’ll see that I wrote a guest blog post that went live just today. It’s about how important it is to us authors that people review our books. I’m not talking about the authors who’ll send out e-mail to everyone in their address books, asking for a review, either. I’m talking about the difference an ordinary person can make to an author’s sales.

So… yes, I DO read reviews and let myself be swayed by them. And believe me, thanks to Win a Book, I now read a LOT of reviews. I even read the reviews in my GoodReads updates feed.

Look. My wishlist is now over 2100 books long. My TBR mountains consist of probably close to 540 books (down ten from my last estimate!). While I believe in the power of serendipity to help me find those books on my wishlist and to get to read them, I still can use a little help in choosing what to read.

Okay, ready for the story behind this one?

Thanks to Win a Book, I met Rebecca Chastain, who runs Number One Novels. Every week or so, Rebecca interviews a debut author and gives a few copies of the debut novel away. It’s a great site; Rebecca has fantastic taste in books. Yes, this is a hint!

One week, I actually entered — and won. The book was Rebecca Cantrell’s A Trace of Smoke, which I thought my book club might like (I’m going to pass it around among us, in fact. Once my desk spits it back out). I read it. I Tweeted about it …and attracted Rebecca Cantrell, the author of A Trace of Smoke (I know! Lots of Rebeccas around here. No wonder I just named a character that!). We got to chatting, as authors do.

Yesterday, A Night of Long Knives, the sequel to A Trace of Smoke, was released. So I HAD to ask Rebecca my favorite question: what song makes you think of your book?

Here’s what she had to say:

Song of a German Mother, lyrics by Bertolt Brecht, music by Kurt Weill, sung by Lotte Lenya. I only have the English version (from the Lenya Sings Weill album).

It’s a political song that sums up the horror that would engulf Germany. At first the mother is proud that her son is doing something, part of something, but then she realizes that the brown shirt she bought him (storm trooper uniform) will be his winding sheet, because he has been killed. I feel sad every time I listen to it.

I can’t find this particular version of the song on YouTube. Here’s some Lotte Lenya, singing a Kurt Weill song. What a very period voice she has!

I couldn’t find the song itself, either — at least, not a terribly audible one. Holler if you’re more successful than I am… and in the meantime, pick up the book!

Here’s the cover blurb:

Journalist Hannah Vogel has vowed to never again set foot in her homeland of Germany while the Nazis are still in power. She has good reason: three years ago in 1931, she kidnapped her son, Anton, from the man claiming to be his father–Ernst Rohm, head of the Nazis’ SA. A powerful man not to be trifled with, Hannah knows that Rohm will never stop searching for them.

Hannah is asked to write about a zeppelin journey from South America to Switzerland, but Switzerland turns out to be too close. The zeppelin is diverted to Munich, where Hannah and Anton are kidnapped and, to Hannah’s horror, separated.

It’s unlucky timing for Rohm, however. Hitler has ordered the execution of Rohm and hundreds of his storm troopers and is determined to wipe out any remaining traces of his name. The Night of the Long Knives has begun.

When Rohm is killed before Hannah can ascertain Anton’s whereabouts, she desperately enlists all of her remaining sources and friends to locate Anton before the Nazis do. And the Gestapo is closing in…

Thrilling and powerful, A Night of Long Knives breathtakingly recreates a shattered and betrayed city as it plunges into darkness.

And, if you missed it above, the buy link for A Night of Long Knives. And for good measure, since you’ll want to start at the beginning and pick up both of these books, here’s the link for A Trace of Smoke.

Don’t miss these. There are more under contract, too!

(As always, I’m an affiliate at Powell’s, so if you click through and buy stuff, I’ll get a few pennies. If those pennies ever add up, I’ll turn them into goodies for you guys. No direct profit for me on this deal!)

So if you saw my Thursday Thirteen this week, you saw me venting about how much trouble I was having getting the formatting for Trevor’s Song down.

Ha.

I vanquished that evil Microsoft Word this morning. All by myself, which is quite a telling feat. I’ve got another proof copy of the book on order, and now it’s a question of whether or not we were able to get the cover art to pop as much as we’d like.

Know what that means?

I just might hit my self-imposed deadline of July 1 yet.

Pricing and stuff will be available soon. I’ll announce it first at the fan page at Facebook, so if you’re not a fan, head on over there and like me.

And if you haven’t read the Demo Tapes (either of them) yet, now’s the time to pick them up and start reading. It won’t take long; they are perfect for summer reads by the pool … so long as you don’t mind when people stare at you funny for laughing out loud. And if you need an autographed copy or two, I’ve still got some here…

MEU?? What the heck?

It’s one of the (many) reasons I’ve been quieter than usual over here. I’m busy getting Trevor’s Song ready to bring you guys, and it’s being a TOTAL PITA. Trevor would be proud of the chaos he’s causing except he’s as anxious to be putty in your hands as you guys are anxious to read his story.

My head is bloody from beating it on my desk. And keyboard. And monitor. And I’ve gone through a few replacement windows, as I’ve thrown things (well, books written by other people) through them. Cut my feet on the glass shards, too, when I’ve gone out into the front yard to retrieve the books. It’s been rainy so far this summer break (all week of it). I can’t let a book get ruined!

And now I’m the official MEU.

Mom Entertainment Unit.

I don’t mind. We’re having fun. But I’m not getting much work done.

Still, you gotta live life in order to be able to write what you know. Books about me staring at glowing computer screens would be dreadfully boring. Trust me. Living it is dreadfully boring.

so…

Thirteen ways I’m the MEU
1. I’ve got The Boy Band joining me in the first-ever biathlon at the Hoity Toity Health Club. In the past, they’ve sponsored a summer triathlon, where you have one month to complete Ironman distances in the run, swim, and bike. This year, they’ve added a biathlon for us non-swimmers (that pool water might turn my hair green, don’tcha know) and shortened the distances. My progress is often my Facebook status, so be sure to keep an eye on me.

2. POOL! We challenged the weather today and won — severe storms were forecast and there were some ugly, dark, heavy clouds overhead, but they didn’t last long.

3. Wii/computer games. ‘Nuff said there.

4. Netflix, TiVo and other televised goodies. Again, ’nuff said there. Fortunately, these last two allow me to actually get a bit of work done.

5. Friends. This is the bane of summertime. Friends scatter. People travel, go to camp, hang out in the neighborhood. Finding friends to occupy my kids’ time is difficult.

6. Funnel Cake. I couldn’t make Burgh Baby‘s funnel cake party, but she was kind enough to share the recipe anyway. This is on our to-do list still, while I wait for my arm to heal.

7. Make Candy. One of my sisters bought The Boy Band a candy making kit for his birthday a few years ago. We’re still experimenting. Like the funnel cake, this is currently on hold while I heal.

8. Rainy day fun: Science Center.

9. mini-golf. Imagine my surprise this weekend past when the quiet, mild-mannered grandmother schooled all of us (except in deference to my poor arm, I didn’t play).

10. Play places! Yeah, like Dave and Busters, but also the places aimed for the kids, with ball pits and climbing tunnels. You know: like Chuck E. Cheese. Where a kid can be a kid.

11. bike riding. You guys know me. If not, see above and the biathlon. ‘Nuff said. Except… I’ve seen enough snakes this year. Including the one the Boy Band rode over on our last outing. Gross, the way the snake tumbled out from under his wheel. Survived, too. That was the cool part.

12. hiking. There are enough parks of the state, local, and national variety (don’t ask where the latter are; I’m not sure. Shush!) to keep us occupied for awhile.

13. I’m sure they’ll cook up something by the time I blink next… Feel free to add your own. Some days, I need the inspiration.

Calgon, take me away!

“It’s a gift.”

“It’s a gift I don’t want,” Lyric told her mother with a scowl. She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders, as if that could ward off her mother.

“Honey,” Melody cooed, “it’s a blessing. You’re a Maker girl, and this is how we all are. We’re superheroes, after all.”

Lyric squeezed her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know, Mom… It doesn’t feel right. You always said it would feel right and I’d know and it would be natural and all that. But it doesn’t. Don’t make me do this.”

“Now, honey,” Melody said, pressing her knees together and pursing her lips slightly, “you’re just scared. That’s natural.”

“According to you, everything is natural!”

Melody nodded, her eyes crinkling slightly. “And that, my dear, is the secret. The one and only secret you’ll ever need if you want to make it in this life.”

“Maybe it is for you, Mom. You’re the one who’s the star. Not me. I’m just your kid. Things are different for me.”

“Stop thinking that way, honey! You are so much more than you realize. You deserve this. You’ve got your own talents, Lyric. All you need to do is show them off. People will sit up and take notice. I promise!”

Lyric played with her lower lip again. She didn’t see it. Didn’t see how she could ever be anything but Melody’s daughter.

On the other hand, Lyric couldn’t remember Melody ever being wrong. If Melody said she could be more than a porn star’s daughter, she could be.

Lyric smiled. Melody mirrored it, magnified it. “You are a superhero, baby. You are. It’s your gift.”

“I don’t know…” Lyric said, but she did know. It wasn’t what she would have picked for herself, but there it was. She may as well grab onto it and go along for the ride.

**
A bit of Sunday Scribblings and Writer’s Islands prompts rolled into one. They worked so well together, it was hard not to. I’m not convinced this is finished yet, but that’s okay. This place was meant to be for rough fiction, and the books for the polished stuff. Speaking of books… Stay tuned.

Yep, I’m on permanent high expectation and need of some extra cash for book buying over here!

Today let’s feature my friend Carrie Lofty. She’s got a THIRD book out, helping launch Carina Press. Carina’s an e-book first press, which means you digital readers can help determine when it comes out in print so us autograph hounds can get our fix.

The book’s called Song of Seduction. What better book to ask THE question: what song makes you think of your book?

Here’s what Carrie had to say:

I have playlists for all of my books. You can hear the one for SONG OF SEDUCTION on its excerpt page. If I had to choose just one song, however, it would be “Chocolate” by Kylie Minogue. That’s the song I listened to as I — *gasp* — wrote my first ever sex scene. I put all the inhibitions and doubts aside and just went for it. Other songs may have had more influence over the characters or the plot, but I’ll never forget my first time…

Carrie made me laugh out loud with that one…

Here’s the book blurb:

Eight years ago, composer Arie De Voss claimed his late mentor’s final symphony as his own and became an icon. But fame has a price: fear of discovery now poisons his attempts to compose a redemptive masterpiece. Until a new muse appears, intoxicating and inspiring him…

Mathilda Heidel renounced her own musical gift to marry, seeking a quiet life to escape the shame surrounding her birth. Sudden widowhood finds her tempted by song once more. An unexpected introduction to her idol, Arie De Voss, renews Mathilda’s passion for the violin—and ignites a passion for the man himself.

But when lust and lies reach a crescendo, Arie will be forced to choose: love or truth?

It this book NOT for me??? Sheesh. Sometimes, I think Carrie and I were separated at birth or something. We even went to the same university. At different times, but we barely missed each other (she could have been my student! Aack, that makes me feel old!).

And here’s the cover.

Know what we’re missing?? BUY LINK!!! If you buy before July 5, you’ll get 20% off.

I was going to wait to post this until Ann’s back from her vacation and has books to give away, but I figure if I post it now, I can give Ann double exposure. If anyone’s worth it, it’s Ann.

Maybe you know her as Bunnygirl. You sure see her in my comment trail; Ann and I have become very good friends over the years. That’s why I’m nothing but amped to see her making the jump from self-published to a small press, L&L Dreamspell.

The book is called Maelstrom, and if you’re savvy, you’ve been reading her short fiction already. Like my own upcoming Trevor’s Song, Maelstrom the novel takes us beyond the shorts and gives us the full story. I’ve read a draft; you won’t be disappointed.

Which means I HAD to ask Ann the famous one-question interview: What song makes you think of your book?

Here’s what she said:

“I Could Be Good For You” by 707. Oddly cheesy, considering, isn’t it? Funny thing is that I don’t even remember when or where I heard that song, although it must’ve been when I was a kid in San Antonio. I remember all kinds of odd things from those three years I lived there, including my home phone number, go figure.

The song may be cheesy (and I agree; it makes me think of the book!), but the book isn’t. Here’s the blurb:

When a genie grants you a wish, you don’t expect to have to return the favor.

Struggling promoter Ricky Landon is on the verge of giving up his dreams when he dumps sexy genie Kalila from a junk store lamp. She grants his wish to manage a talented band, but she has a wish of her own…she wants to be a rock star.

Kalila’s band consists of fellow demons whose genius on stage is matched by their ability to get themselves banned from every venue they’ve ever played. Ricky is willing to do what it takes to help them succeed, but with a zombie on drums, an incubus on bass, and a vampire lead vocalist, the off-stage antics are a little more serious than diva behavior and trashed hotel rooms.

Via connections and clever promoting, Ricky turns Maelstrom into the hottest act in town, but their growing fame and Ricky’s love affair with Kalila draw the attention of a rival band of washed-up deities. They’ll do anything to stop Maelstrom from achieving their goals, and now Ricky’s career and maybe even his life is at stake.

Ricky knew rock and roll was a little crazy, but he never thought it would be like this!

Pick up your own copy!

So I’ve been neglecting you guys over here. It’s not personal, believe me.

Last Tuesday, I thought I’d hyper-extended my elbow. No real biggie; I’ve got really loose ligaments (which is why going to the gym is so vital; it’s what holds me together!), but a visit today with the sports med doctor I adore didn’t go so hot.

It’s not a hyper-extension. It’s a mild dislocation, and I’ve been doing it repeatedly since February, when I went out and shoveled all that snow we got here in the Western side of Mars. And… there might be some serious ligament damage after last week’s stunt.

I’m supposed to head out to the Lori Foster weekend tomorrow, but I can’t spend five hours outside of my spiffy new sling. I mean, I CAN. I just got the sling, after all, so it’s not like I haven’t been toughing it out. But it HURTS, guys. It’s not worth the five hour drive and the pain that it’ll bring. Not when the sling helps so nicely…

So that’s the saga. More as I know it, which will be next week, in fact, when they take a better, deeper look inside. It might be a summer of not so many posts around here, but let’s deal with that hurdle when we get to it…