I don’t even want to talk about all the things I did. I’ll just post pictures instead.

First on the agenda: Hanging out in the local cemetery with author Jenny Moss.

Wait - is that Anne Nesbet's debut? I already bought it last week! Hardcovers rule.

Hannah Moskowitz's AMAZING book Zombie Tag was front-and-center. Hmm... I already own this one, too.

Hooray! An ARC I'm dying for! Savenaz Tash's The Mapmaker and the Ghost! But... it's not being handed out yet? *sobs*

Eureka! I finally hit ARC gold with Greg Leitich Smith's upcoming The Chronal Engine!

Time to hang out with the literati: Jenny Moss, P. J. Hoover, and Jessica Anderson Lee. (Maybe their talent will rub off if I squeeze in?)

Could I smile any wider? I just got two books signed by Michael Buckley!

And then... an ARC of Tom Angleberger's upcoming Fake Mustache. Which came with - you guessed it - a fake mustache.

And then the cows came home. With so many ARCs they could hardly lift the bags.

My kids think I am a Magical Book Fairy now, as I snagged the Very Best books from the actual HANDS of their most favorite authors. I’ll have to admit, it was a very Cinderella-ish weekend for me, between the books and the author-idols, and meeting all the sweet Penguin fairy-godmother-type marketing and sales folks.

Now, off to read!

I wish for you, an ideal listener. Not reader, although ideal readers are out there, and when you find one, it makes you want to write faster and better, thinking of your words flying across the page in front of their wide, hungry eyes.

I have an ideal listener, and I think it’s possibly the best part of my writing life.

My ideal listener sits on the bed behind me as I read the chapters of my WIP aloud, wating patiently as I correct typos on the fly, listening intently to every word. He laughs and hoots and kicks at the covers when I read the funny bits. When the tension mounts, he stands up, crosses the room, and stands right behind my chair, his quick breath on my shoulder, tense fingers gripping the back of my chair.

He sneaks out of bed sometimes at night long after I’m done reading, tiptoes downstairs, opens my documents file, and steals an illicit next chapter because he can’t wait.

He tells me, at bedtime, that the book I’m writing is the best he’s ever heard, better than anything.

“Rick Riordan good?” I ask.

Yes.

“Better than… The Ranger’s Apprentice?” I ask.

Yes.

“You’re crazy. How about… Harry Potter?” We laugh. It is *almost* sacrilege.

Different, he says. Just as good.

Then: Can I hear just one more chapter tonight? Please?

I know it’s not all true, Friends, but it doesn’t matter. You need at least one cheerleader on the sidelines at the early stages of the game. And if your cheerleader will sit quietly as you read aloud (the MOST important part of revision, in my estimation), it makes even that part of the process deeply rewarding.

Now I have to go write about wishes, and ideas, and seeds. Just a few more pages…

Write well, Friends!

Three years ago, I wouldn’t have known what an ARC was, unless you meant the kind Noah started building when God whispered “rain.”

But I just got the ARCs of my book, and so that you’ll understand and celebrate with me, rather than feel confused, I’ll tell you what they are. ARC stands for Advance Reader Copy. These are copies of a book put out months before the publication date of the novel, and sent to reviewers, booksellers, librarians… and authors.

Look! I got a box of these beauties, and they’re mine ALL MINE!

And NO, the final cover art will not be pink. Or anything like this at all.

Er… No, not really.

ARCS are a marketing tool, NOT copies of the book, exactly. They still have that last batch of typos and errors that didn’t get picked up in early rounds of edits (and, yes, it kills me to know that on page 183 or whatever, people will  see that horrible logic flaw. I took it out after these were printed!)

My NAME is on the SPINE! With candy. How apropos.

Since ARCs are not copies of the final book, they are not for sale! You cannot buy them, and if you see them for sale online, someone is doing a Very Bad Thing called piracy. Don’t support them, please. Writers need to eat, and that only happens when actual money changes hands.

Speaking of money, ARCs are very expensive to produce! They can cost upwards of $16 apiece to print, since they’re run in small batches. (And that’s in softcover! My book will come out in hardcover and cost the reader about the same. Weird.) So if you get one, be happy! Read it, review it if you like, and maybe pass it on (if you really liked it, to a librarian who might buy a copy for her collection. Just don’t ever sell it. See piracy, above.)

So, my ARCs are now out in the world, going to all the fancy schmancy people who might possibly write lovely (or not-so-lovely) things about my book. It’s more than slightly scary. But it’s wonderful, too.

It has a back cover, too! With words on it! That I wrote!

It’s a total Pinocchio moment for me — I’m a Real Author now! And I won’t lie, that thought makes me feel all Christmas-y inside.

Merry Christmas, Friends! And I hope Santa brings you exactly what your heart desires.

PS – Very soon I will be able to share the Real Cover Art. It will SO be worth the wait.

I have no idea where to send them. You see, I really, really like this poem and story, but they both will have to fall into just the right lap to find their way out into the big wide world of publication. (Translation: they’re both weird.) And even though I’ve had similar work published before, these new pieces are just different enough to send me scurrying to all the corners of the Internet (not to mention the magazine racks, the bookstores, and my own bookshelves) to hunt down just the right venues.

I get emails from writers fairly frequently, asking me where good markets are for this, that, and the other. The truth is, I don’t know. No one seems to — and if they say they do, I’m not sure they aren’t trying to sell you (and me) snake oil. I think there is some not-so-small measure of serendipity that leads you to the right editor.

Of course, chance favors the prepared writer – so doing your homework, and surfing all those sites to find new markets is a step you can’t skip, no matter how you wish you could.

This shouldn’t even be an issue for me right now. I’m hip deep in second pass pages (the final round of editing for Sinister Sweetness), a draft of my agent-anticipated WIP, and prep for the holidays. But these short pieces are begging for attention, too. Heck, my pets are strays. I guess I’m a sucker for little brown dogs — and the “little brown dogs” that howl on my hard drive, too.

Any of you have short pieces you can’t find a home for? Where do you go to find them homes, other than duotrope?

Happy Thanksgiving, Writer Friends! May you all win your personal NaNos, or at least get the biggest piece of pie.

Oh, do we love our books.

I’ve been hanging out at the local indie bookstore, Bookpeople, a WHOLE lot recently. Not only am I attending to support my Writer Friends’ book launches, I’m also being dragged there by my kids, who also love them some readin’.

Last week I noticed something… interesting. Book launches are getting more and more exciting.

I mean, seriously. At Cory Putman Oake’s launch for her new YA novel, The Veil, there were… cheerleaders.

Also brownies, but that may only be exciting to me.

My kid and his friend with their hero, Mr. Flanagan.

And then, at John Flanagan’s launch for Book One: The Outcasts of his new series, The Brotherband Chronicles, there was honest-to-goodness sword fighting. (By trained professionals. If they’d given swords to all the kids, there would have been a higher body count.)

Also, knights in real armor, and more Ranger’s Apprentice look-alikes than you can shake a bow staff at. I thought I’d wandered into the Renaissance Festival for a minute.

It was absolutely cool.

I can’t even express how much I approve of this new trend. But it has me a little worried. How will I make my own launch next year stand out?

Have a gingerbread school contest?

Get impoverished and/or child actors to act out the scariest scenes?

Hire a local coven to come with a cauldron full of fake body parts… or worse?

I could use some help here. I don’t think I can work the sword fighting in at this stage – I’m proofing the final pass pages this month! (And can I just say that seeing my name on the copyright page is the HUGEST rush?)

Most days, I write about a thousand words. Not so much on weekends, more when inspiration shows up. Yeterday was a good writing day – 2.5 K.

But there are so many ways to measure a good writing day, aren’t there? I mean, come on, is word count as important as finally figuring out how to make  a tricky plot point work?

Yesterday, my son asked how the writing had gone. I didn’t bother to tell him how many words I’d written – he doesn’t care about numbers outside of video game scores. “Awesome Possum,” I answered him, in Texan Middle-Grade Boy Language. “I got to use the words ‘explosive diarrhea’ in this chapter.”

“Awesome,” he agreed. Then a pause. “Can you work ‘spontaneous human combustion’ in next week?”

Why, yes. I thought, sensing another good writing day on the horizon. I think I can.

How do you measure your good writing days? Word count? How you feel at the end of the day? By the number of empty candy wrappers around your chair?

Cool Stuff: For those of you who don’t aspire to use words like “explosive diarrhea” in your children’s fiction, check out Cynthia Leitich Smith’s blog post on Picture Book Month – also November! And then go buy some picture books for all your nieces and nephews. Heaven knows they don’t need any more toys.

Let me explain. This weekend was the Texas Book Festival, the most wonderful, free, fabulous event ever in Austin. I did it right this year.

I sat in on panels with authors I know and love like Elaine Scott, Varian Johnson, Jeanette Larson, Chris Barton, and Jennifer Ziegler — and authors I don’t know as well, but still love, like Rosemary Clement-Moore, Jill Alexander, and Joe Schreiber. I had lunch with the amazing Mary Johnson and other writer friends at Z’Tejas on Saturday, then took the Texas State Cemetery tour after dark.

At the cemetery, I shook Louis Sachar’s hand (then couldn’t wash it until I got home and rubbed the talent germs on both my sons, not kidding, I KNOW), then hung out with Cynthia Leitich-Smith, Jessica Lee Anserson, Shelli Cornelison, Jen Bigheart, Emily Kristin Anderson, oh and let’s not forget freaking Libba Bray and Sarah Dessen and… I can’t remember them all.

On Sunday, I listened to Rebecca Stead and Kate DiCamillo talk about their writing processes and what it’s like to win a Newbery (frightening and wonderful and dangerous if you believe it means you are the bomb because of it, according to these two). They were hilarious. I skulked around their signing tent with my husband and son until we were able to snap these pics.

Kate DiCamillo talks about books to my kid. Seriously. *flails*

I love how D. can't stop looking at Kate. I'm wondering whether Newbery Germs are contagious. Hoping so.

Afterward, I went to MORE panels, bought books, visited with magazine editors – ones I’d worked with before who I’d never met (which was so cool) and ones I may work with in the future (yay!) — librarians, booksellers and even some official Penguin people. Squee!

That night, after dinner, I was exhausted, but so happy.

Then I heard that Johnny Depp was playing an unscheduled gig (who knew he played guitar?) at the Nutty Brown Cafe, a hot hill country music venue at the end of my street. (I knew he really was in town, since a bunch of my friends had their pics of him from the night before up on Facebook.) We were driving past the Cafe, the music was going, and Dave said – “wanna go?” It wasn’t even that crowded.

I thought about it.

I mean, this guy?

But then I thought – no big. I’d already been in the presence of my rock stars all weekend- the authors who write so well, feel so passionately, and are so incredibly generous with their time and energy. Johnny Depp has nothing on Kate D. or Louis S.

And it was a school night, after all. And… I *did* have a new book I’d gotten at the Festival to read…

So we drove on.

And that, my friends is how I know I am the Biggest Book Nerd Ever.

Now, I’m off to write another thousand words on my Shiny New Manuscript. I might stare at a few Johnny Depp pictures later. You know. Just for inspiration.

Ah, Procrastination. My good, good friend.

Anyway, I’ve been wondering for quite some time how middle grade authors get the word out for their books! I mean, there are a dozen amazing YA book blogs I could list in ten seconds. But middle grade ones aren’t so thick on the ground. (Although there are some very, very lovely ones. Just not as many!)

In any case, R L Lafevers blogged over at Shrinking Violet Promotions about how to get the word out (and get sales) for Middle Grade Authors. Totally check this out. Writer Friends of the MG Variety. It’s GOLD!

You’re very welcome.

Nikki News: This week, I’m starting a New Book! And it makes my heart so very, very glad to think THIS book

(one that I bought at the Backspace Conference three years ago) is one of my major research texts.

Yes, I do believe Poison + Plants  + Middle Grade = WIN!

I was on the cusp of finishing the first draft of a book I’ve been working on for some time* — the book that’s been scaring me to write. I think I’ve mentioned it before on the blog. Anyway, I happened to get some news about another recently completed manuscript that worried me.** Was I writing too controversially? Was my work just TOO dark?

So, I stopped the work I was doing on my current Scary Novel, freaked out… and spent two weeks carving the heart out of it with an authorial grapefruit spoon. I finished the new, sanitized draft — well, almost. I was about 500 words from the end, and I found myself thinking “What happens next?”

And then I found myself answering: I don’t care.

Wow. That stunk. I’ve never written a whole novel before where I got that close to finishing, and couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to make it to The End.

So I pulled the socks out of my Muse’s mouth, smacked myself around a little, reminded myself that I don’t write for publication, yadda yadda… and went back to the old draft. I finished it.
It scares me to death. It is full of suck right now, as all first drafts are. It may not even make sense. But I cared what happened in that last scene in this version. I deeply, truly cared.

So there. Why I’ve been AWOL. I’m back now, though. Any of you Writer Friends have big news while I was angsting away my weeks?

* Years, actually. I have been writing this story – starting over again and again, for at least three years.

** Unnecessarily, it turns out. Yay!

Since I live in Austin, I have the happy coincidence of moving in the same circles as some of the most supportive kidlit writers anywhere ever. So when you go to a signing/launch here, you WILL run into at least a dozen other writers, and usually plenty of regular non-writerly reader types, too.

As I was sitting at one such launch party in Bookpeople yesterday, listening to my dear friend and amazing author Jessica Lee Anderson speak about her new book, CALLI (Milkweed Press), I had a thought about funerals.

They’re just like book launches.

Only funerals are slightly less important.

Let me explain. Jessica remarked on how amazing it was so have all those people there to support her, her family and friends, and all these wonderful authors, and I thought — it’s just like a funeral! The people who love her most in the world are all there — and they wouldn’t think of being anywhere else. They know how important this day is in her life — like, one of the biggies. You know the ones: births, deaths, graduations, divorces… and book launches. (Did I miss any?) The coolest thing is, at your book launch, unlike your own funeral, you get to SEE who showed.*

Maybe only other writers will get this. Maybe the rest of the world will think I’m being glib, or dismissive of the whole mourning process. I don’t mean to be — it’s just, I’ve had a few “big” funerals to deal with in my life, and I remember vividly every single person who came to them.

I have a feeling a book launch would make the same kind of memory.

Am I wrong, Writer Friends? Those of you who’ve had one already, feel free to chime in!

(I don’t know what other authors would say, but Friends? I want you to know this right now. If you have to pick one of the two to attend — my book launch or my funeral — please, I beg you, pick the launch party. At the least because I can’t promise you’ll get chocolate at my funeral. But at my launch? Heck yeah!)

Now go write! Or read!

* Or you get to read their facebook and blog posts about how sad they were not to be able to attend — not everyone can make it to every event, I get that. .