You guys, you guys! At five o’clock tomorrow morning, I’m leaving for Kansas, where good times will surely ensue—and not only because I get to see Tess and Maggie, but because the Lawrence Public Library is hosting a party for The Curiosities!
Which I’m allowed to be totally excited about, just as soon as I do some laundry.
The party is on Saturday afternoon, and we’ll be talking, signing, and no doubt acting undignified. So, if you’re in the neighborhood, you should totally come see us.
Well, I am back from my trip! (And totally forgot to take any pictures.) (Which, in light of past history, is not really a surprise.)
And more importantly, ARCs of PAPER VALENTINE are here, which means that now I can give them to you!
As usual, I will try to keep the rules simple. As usual, I may get distracted by random ideas about novelty and originality and nuance and oh-look-a-bird, and fail completely at keeping the rules simple.
I know I say this semi-periodically, but in a second, I am going to be so mean right now.
Also, this is not a high school post. It was going to be a high school post, but then this happened:
Which means that now I can think up some sort of big fancy heart-themed contest and give them to you!
But here’s the part where I’m mean, because tomorrow, I am going to be going on A Trip. And because I’ll be on a trip, the contest will have to wait until I get back. Which means … um … now you have something to look forward to? Now I have time to think up my contest? (There is a bright side in here somewhere.)
Also, just so you know, I still intend to post next week, but judging from every other trip I’ve ever taken, I would not hold my breath if I were you. As history has shown us, I am famously bad at updating anything on the internet when I’m away from home, because I get way too distracted by all the new stuff, and then Twitter and Facebook and this blog sit dusty and abandoned and wait patiently (if forlornly) for me to come back with pictures, only I was so distracted that I totally forgot to take pictures.
Also, my trip is to San Francisco, which is a lovely, lovely city, and the weather forecast even swears to me that it will be warm, which would be very exciting, except I know from past experience that it’s probably a lie.
Also, I don’t think anything under 82° qualifies as warm, so according to me, the weather forecast says it’s going to be freezing. Suffice it to say, I will be bringing every thermal shirt I own.
Also, now I’m having a contest with myself to see how many separate paragraphs I can start with the word also.
Also, I win. Which is just one of the many benefits of having a contest with yourself. Okay, I have to stop now, because I’m devolving into massive incoherency even as I watch.
So, work up some excitement for my Giant PAPER VALENTINE ARC Giveaway (terms to be determined at a later date) and I’ll see you guys a week from Monday!
(Unless I see you before then.)
Also, it’s in that awkward beginning stage where I absolutely can’t talk about it in any practical sense because it’s still only a delicate collection of impressions and ideas and assorted sentences and characters I barely know.
It’s still basically an ugly little grub just waiting to turn into something fancy—as in, Tess and Maggie have seen approximately one page, and Editor Jocelyn has seen none of it at all.
However, because I’m really bad about always wanting to share all the things I’m excited about, I think I’ve worked out a way to kind of act it out in sounds and pictures without really giving anything away.
This is Yet Another of those bizarre and kind of improbable stories that came into my possession because once again, I just happened to be in a certain place at a certain time.
The high school soccer season is only during the spring, and so every fall, I play on the city travel team. We practice three days a week, in the public park right down the street from my school, because it’s relatively central to all the girls coming from other schools.
Usually, I get there and the back lot is deserted. I’ll change clothes in the car, which is both convenient and private, because Blue Dragon is not only the size of a small house, but also has tinted windows. Then I wander over to the soccer field and put my cleats on and wait for everyone else to get there.
This time, though, the parking lot is almost full, and so even though Blue Dragon is like a small house, I have to change sitting on the floor because I don’t like the feeling that anyone might possibly be able to see me. Nearly every spot is taken, and there’s a huge crowd of boys standing around in the fire lane, laughing and smoking.
Ordinarily, I’d be anxious or disoriented or sort of confused, if this exact same thing hadn’t already just happened on Monday. I’d gotten to practice and the back lot had been completely full of boys, and there’d been a big stupid brawl, which was one of those kinds where everyone makes a lot of noise and no one ever really hurts each other because they have no idea how to actually fight, and so they swing these giant, clumsy haymakers that never connect, and mostly just wind up looking off-balance and totally stupid.
What I’m saying is, even though I realize that the forecast calls for assault, I am wildly unconcerned.
When I’m done changing awkwardly on the floor of my car, I pad across the parking lot in my socks, over to where Caitlin is sitting with her windows rolled up even though it’s ninety-five degrees out. This is because Caitlin is scared of things—of bad grades and making mistakes and of boys, but particularly of boys with an unhealthy enthusiasm for fighting in the park.
Jinx, who is scared of zero things is flopped down in the grass by the picnic table, yanking on her shin-guards. She waves me over, but eighteen-year-old-Brenna is finally starting to develop a slightly more active concern for other people, so I stop at the edge of the parking lot and eventually manage to coax Caitlin out the car. I do this by rolling my eyes a lot and making flippant faces and pointing around at various boys and telling her various embarrassing things about them.
(Also, even though teenage-Brenna is finally starting to be more conscientious and socially engaged and also friendlier, she can still be just the smallest touch totally judge-y and caustic. Just a tad.)
The three of us sit on the picnic table and wait, and the boys in the parking lot smoke and stare at us and wait, and more keep showing up all the time.
A few more girls from my team join us at the table. #4 arrives with a dark, angry-looking boy called Odd, followed by Dweezil and Rooster in Dweezil’s Blazer, and we wait.
When something does happen, it’s very sudden. A bony, unfamiliar sophomore clips this big, thuggish guy named Romeo under the chin. They do the usual dance—staggering around on the grass, falling down and getting up again. Around them, the other boys are having the time of their lives, grabbing handfuls of each other’s shirts and shouting a lot.
Brenna Yovanoff 