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Liebster Award 2015

7/12/2015

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So, my amazing friend Krysten nominated me for a Liebster Award. I don't even really know what that is, although I have participated before. Since I haven't been real chatty on my blog lately, I figured it was time to change that up. Thanks, Krysten!  Make sure you visit her blog at www.krystenlindsay.com/blog/. Tell her MPerks and I sent ya.  ;-)  





Rules: 
1. Thank the nominator 
2. Display award in post 
3. Nominate other bloggers 
4. Answer the 10 questions that your nominator has given you

Answers to Krysten's questions:

1.  What was the reason for starting your blog?

I started my blog to talk about my books and writing--pretty much everything my family and friends were sick of hearing about on my personal blog. I like to talk about what my writer friends have up their sleeves, too (besides their arms, of course).

2. What was the last thing you ate?

Some leftover movie theater popcorn. We saw "Minions" yesterday, and free popcorn refills. Life is good.

3. Have you read any books lately? 


So lucky to have so many writer friends! I'm never at a loss when it comes to reading material. Currently reading FABLED by Vanessa Eccles. I finished PAPER TOWNS by John Green before that. Now I'm working on critique partner manuscripts for the bestest CPs ever! Muah!

4.  What is your current favorite trend?

This is a surprisingly difficult question. I'm going to go with yoga pants. Not even a trend... More like a lifestyle.

5. If you could be any Disney character who would you be and why?

Probably Jessie from Toy Story because BULLSEYE.

6. What do you think is the hardest part about living in 2015?



Not living in the 90s? Seriously, let's bring that decade back.

7. If you had to pick only one music artist to listen to for the rest of your life, who would it be?

Florence + the Machine. I heart her so much. I had her LUNGS CD in my old minivan for almost two years straight because it wouldn't read another CD if I ejected it. You would think it would get old, but it really didn't. The saddest part is that I don't have the words even remotely memorized even after all that repetition. My brain sucks.

8. What is your food weakness?

Chocolate chip cookies. MAN. Now I want cookies.

9. Are you a night owl or early bird?

Night owl. I love how quiet the house is when everyone else goes to sleep. It's really the only time I almost feel alone in this house. 

10. If you had the opportunity to go back and relive one day of your life, what day would you choose?

The day I noticed my horse acting a little weird and brushed it off (because he was weird). A few hours later it was too late to help him get better. This is a bummer way to end these questions, but it's true. 

10 Questions for Nominees

1. What was the reason for starting your blog?

2. What was the last thing you ate?

3. Have you read any books lately? If so what have you read?

4. What is your current favorite trend?

5. If you could be any Disney character who would you be and why?

6. What do you think is the hardest part about living in 2015?

7. If you had to pick only one music artist to listen to for the rest of your life, who would it be?

8. What is your food weakness?

9. Are you a night owl or early bird?

10. If you had the opportunity to go back and relive one day of your life, what day would you choose?



Now I'm going to nominate a few peeps:


Karen Mahara
Niki Lenz
Sonia Poynter
Vanessa K. Eccles
Kim Graff


If I didn't tag you and you'd like to participate, DO IT and let me know about it!

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Another Field Trip Day - The Birth of Your Book

1/21/2015

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Hey, everyone! I'm taking a break from editing DANIEL THE DRAWER's sequel to post on the YA~NA Sisterhood Blog. The YA~NA Sisterhood is a blog designed for readers and writers of Young Adult and New Adult fiction. I'm a contributor there, and today was my very first published post.  

In The Birth of Your Book, I mash up my two professions, writing and birth work, with some amusing results.  Check it out, doula's orders.  

While you're there, join our Book Club. February's pick is WHITE SPACE by Ilsa J. Bick, sure to be a creepy good time. The more book nerds, the merrier!
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Field Trip Day!

12/12/2014

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Today we're taking a field trip to Krysten Lindsay Hager's blog, where Daniel is pondering (and answering) life's biggest questions.  Stop by, say hi, and enter to win a Kindle version or audiobook version of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER!
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Time Warp With S. J. Henderson

9/10/2014

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My friends still call me "Swirly" because of this outfit. It's awesome, right?
We had such a blast with Krysten Lindsay Hager's Middle School Time Warp (and her gorgeous orange-ish Sun-In hair) the other day, that we decided to keep it going.  Today I'm on Krysten's blog, sharing some of my best and worst school memories... and some pretty horrendous photos.  Stop by her blog and cringe along with me!

Then share with us in the comments (here, or on Krysten's blog) some of your funniest and humiliating stories!
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Names Changed To Protect the Innocent, Part 2

8/30/2014

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Welcome to another installment of "Names Changed To Protect the Innocent", the portion of our show when we learn more about the inspiration behind my characters. If you've read my Children's/Middle Grade book, DANIEL THE DRAW-ER, you already know that one of the most magical elements of the story is the colorful cast of people, animals, and, yes, even aliens from the planet Beezo.  You can find Part 1 here.    


Today's character is...

Whiskers!

Whiskers is a crowd favorite amongst the kids I've met at book signings. His popularity doesn't surprise me all that much because he's a funny curmudgeon of a feline.  

And, hello! What's not to love about a talking cat?
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Especially a SMART talking cat.
This white cat isn't a fan of sushi or flying, and he tells it like it is.      
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Seriously. This kitteh.
Here's a fun fact you probably don't know, kiddies: Whiskers has a Jersey accent.  Does that surprise you? It should, because I never told you before. Unless you're inside my head, and you can hear him talk, too, you should be surprised.

Are you in my head? 
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Well? Are you?
When I came up with the idea for Whiskers, I simply thought of the kind of thing a nine-year-old boy would draw.  Homemade Pokemon, fire-breathing dragons, and obviously rocket cats. When you consider the world through the fresh brain of a nine-year-old boy, the idea of Whiskers becomes kinda obvious.  
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This. Obviously.
And, obviously, now you're going to ask me if Whiskers is based on a specific talking rocket cat.  
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Just kidding. You know I love crazy talk.
No, actually there is no real-life talking rocket cat... but our family used to be owned by a certain white cat named Wally. He's now demanding ear skritches from the angels, but when he was with us here on earth, he lived life on his terms. You like that box?  Well, it's Wally's litter box now. You want to pet Wally?  He'll show you where and exactly how to do it--with his teeth.  If he could have talked, he would have sounded like a cast member from The Sopranos. I'm sure, had he not gone through all of his given lives, he would have worked out the whole flying and talking thing, no problem.  

That's it for this week.  Check back soon for part 3 in Names Changed To Protect the Innocent.  
NowDo you have an animal in your life who would make a good story character?  I'd love to hear about them in the comments below. 
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Names Changed To Protect the Innocent, Part 1

8/22/2014

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Each week, I've committed to networking my readers with other authors who are also building their readership. As far as I'm concerned, that's a win-win. They get to tell a new set of people about their stories, and maybe you find your next favorite book (after mine, butofcourse! Wink, wink).
  
At least one day per week, I'll take a break from promoting my wonderful author cronies to share a little bit about me, what I'm working on, and all kinds of other good bookish stuff. I thought I'd kick this weekly segment off by addressing a FWQ--a frequently-wondered question. I think the term "FAQ" is so overdone, don't you? So, FWQ it is.  
"Where did you come up with the idea for that character?"
Well, dear reader, that's a wonderful question, and not one I always have a brilliant answer for. When I was writing my Children's/Middle Grade book, DANIEL THE DRAW-ER, so many of the ideas for the silliest of creatures came from the cobwebby recesses of my brain, with no real idea how they got there in the first place. A few of the characters--the best characters, really--were based on people and animals I know and love. It makes me so happy to know that you know and love them, too, and you appreciate all of their unique quirks.


Instead of pouring out every one of my secrets at once, I will break them up into separate blog posts, to be doled out like bread crumbs in coming weeks. And, in the spirit of building up momentum, I'd like to start things off slow and low-key. 


Our first victim... ahem, I mean, subject will be Tommy, the guy you all love to loathe.

Tommy

Tommy is the loser boyfriend of Daniel's older sister, Lila. Tommy's claim to fame is his shabby, poorly-designed facial hair, gross aroma, and his enthusiasm for arm punching poor Daniel. This guy's also not real great with important info, such as names. In short, he's a little bit of the worst.
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We're asking ourselves that, too.
It was brought to my attention recently that one of my brothers-in-law read Tommy's description in my book and thought he might be the inspiration for such a lovely, wholesome character. If he identifies with Tommy, then shame on him. 
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Or at least our relationship. Sniff sniff!
Just kidding. Maybe.

Tommy is based on a combination of bad boyfriends my sisters went through. Most of those guys were short-lived, cute but empty-headed, with not enough interest in a bratty little sister to take the time to say hello, or even learn my name (not even a "Fritz"!).  

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Like I told you before, it's Fritz, not Buddy.
His signature arm punch was actually drawn from a particularly traumatic experience I had. No, none of those guys punched me, although I'm sure a few of them wanted to. One guy who looked at least four years too old for my sister, with the gross mustache not helping his cause, came over to our house to hang out.  I remember him pinning me under a bean bag chair (yeah, we were a bean bag family), and tickling me until I peed my pants. Adults always warn about that kind of stuff happening--"Stop! Or she'll pee her pants!"--but you don't think it'll ever happen to you until it happens. And then you're eternally mortified, and you have to get back at all of the skeezy sister's boyfriends in the world by immortalizing their misdeeds in print. Forever.  Then you make it all worse by telling the world that somebody tickled you past the point of no return... Okay, I'm going to stop now.
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Nevermind.
The Tommies from my past usually weren't rockstar wannabes, but most of them considered themselves to be cooler than they actually were. I think we all think that about ourselves, some of us are just better than Tommy (and my sisters' exes) at keeping it on the down-low.


I hope you enjoyed taking a deeper look into the story behind one of my characters.  Make sure you check back next week for another installment of "Names Changed To Protect the Innocent".  


If you're on Pinterest, please join me over there and let me know what you think of when you read my stories. I always love to see how readers visualize my characters!  You're usually far more creative than I am!  


Until then, keep dreaming...
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Daniel the Draw-er 2 Sneak Peek!

7/11/2014

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In May I started working on the second Daniel book, DANIEL THE DRAW-ER 2 [working title].  It's turning out to be quite an adventure, because there are a ton of great scenes and stories that want to be told.  My goal was to hit 14,000 words (the approximate length of DANIEL THE DRAW-ER), but I'm just shy of 12,000 words tonight and there's so much left to be written.  We'll see what happens when it comes time to edit.  

In the meantime, here's a silly little peek to see what Daniel's been up to this summer:  
A girl with a short red braid sits down in the grass next to me, and stares at the picture as I work.  She's wearing a bright pink Glitter Ponies shirt.  Glitter Ponies is a girl cartoon, and it’s nowhere near as cool as Bionic Aardvarks of Underworld Z.  I can't believe she can wear that shirt without being embarrassed.      

“What's your name?"  She twirls the end of her braid between her fingers.

I stop drawing, not sure who she’s talking to. "Wh-what?"  

"What's your name?" She repeats.

Wait.  Is she talking to me?  I look over my shoulder, but no one else is around.

“What. Is. Your. Name?” She asks again.  I’m trying to ignore her, but she’s looking at me and blinking a lot.  Yeah, like that’ll magically make me pay attention to her. 

“I asked you a question." She touches me on the arm, and I pull away from her as fast as I can.  It’s a proven fact that girls are the number one carrier of cooties, and no one likes cooties.  I’ve never seen a real-live cootie up close before, so I don’t know what they look like, but I’m not about to find out at Camp Bigfoot, when I’m so far away from Mom and her special cootie shampoo.  Besides, if anyone’s gonna have them crawling around on their clothes or hiding in their ears, it’s this girl.  

Who's ready to read more?  Comment below and say hi!  I'd love to hear from you!
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Daniel the Draw-er Makes a Friend

10/21/2013

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“Did you make any new friends at school today?” Mom asks, smiling up at me as she wipes crumbs from the counter.  Every day it’s the same question, and every day I give the same answer.  They say adults are supposed to be smart, but maybe no one told Mom.

I grab the carton of milk and take a gulp before she notices, then wipe away my milk moustache with my sleeve.  Today I feel dramatic, so I puff up my chest and place my hands on my hips like a superhero before booming, “Annie is the only friend I need!”  

If I owned a cape I would make sure it flapped in the breeze behind me the whole time, but capes weren’t on the shopping list for school clothes this year.  Mom looks disappointed.  I’m disappointed, too.  Capes are cool.  Not as cool as samurai swords or skateboarding dogs, but still pretty awesome.

“Daniel.  Annie is a nice girl, but it’s not healthy to have only one friend.”

Parents always said stuff wasn’t healthy for you.  Candy bars weren’t healthy.  Staying up all night watching t.v. wasn’t healthy.  Now being friends with Annie wasn’t healthy?  Unless Mom meant the time Annie sneezed right in my face and I ended up sick in bed for two days, I didn’t understand how having a friend could be bad.

“Really, Daniel.  What if Annie moved away?  Then you wouldn’t have any friends.”

“She’s not going anywhere.  She told me so.”

Her face grows serious.  “Promise me you’ll try to at least talk to the other kids.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes, but make sure I turn my back to her first.  Mom hates it when I roll my eyes.  Only she can roll her eyes and get away with it.  “What’s for dinner?”

“Meatloaf, your favorite!”

Gross!  I stick out my tongue and make a gagging noise.

“I was going to warn you that Tommy’s in the living room waiting for your sister, but since you’re being a smarty-pants, maybe I won’t...”

Tommy.  Ugh.

My sister Lila’s latest boyfriend was the worst one yet.  He plays in a band and has just enough hair on his chin to make it look like he’s super-glued a caterpillar there.  Tommy also likes to call me “buddy” and punch me in the arm.  I figure he can't remember my name.  When we first met, Tommy called me Fritz for an entire day before Lila finally put a stop to it

I tiptoe down the hall past the living room door, but knock into the coat rack with my backpack.  Like a hungry lion, Tommy pounces, jumping over the back of the couch and directly in front of me.  Great.

“Bud-dy!”  He punches me in the arm, as always.

“Ow!”  I whine.  Before he can hit me again, I slip off my backpack and hide my arms behind it like a knight with a shield.  

“What’s up, big guy?”

I try to answer him, but it’s kind of hard since he’s put me in a headlock, his skinny forearm pressing into my windpipe.  Up close, Tommy smells like microwave burritos and cat litter.  He rubs his knuckles on the top of my head and I yelp.  When the torture portion of our meeting ends, he lets me go and acts like nothing ever happened.

“Lila says you’re a draw-er.”

I’m pretty sure he means artist, but my head and arm still hurt so I keep my mouth shut.

“Uh, I guess so,” I shrug.

Tommy smiles, making the caterpillar wiggle.  “Well, keep practicing, buddy.  Maybe if you get good enough you can draw a cover for Revenge of the Lunch Lady.”

I back around him so I can keep an eye on his hands.  “Yeah, okay.  Thanks.”

Like that’ll happen.  Revenge of the Lunch Lady was the name of Tommy’s band, and their biggest show so far had been at the bowling alley.  No one had been able to hear them over the thumps of bowling balls and crash of falling pins.

The rest of the way to my room, I think about Mom’s words, What if Annie moved away?

It’s impossible to imagine life without my best friend.  While all the other girls at school dress in pink and smell like flowers, Annie always smells like peanut butter and wears her brother’s old jeans.  Back in kindergarten she ate an earthworm and that’s when I knew she was the one.  

The other kids tease us and say we’re going to get married when we grow up.  They make kissy noises when we walk past together, but that’s gross.  I don’t want to kiss Annie.  Annie eats earthworms, after all.
Mom’s being silly.  Annie’s not leaving.

Once I reach my room, I sit down at my table and get to work.  Dad put my table in front of the window so I could look out and draw nice pictures of trees and birds, but mostly I use the window as a launchpad for paper airplanes and plastic parachute men.  Instead of trees and birds, I draw animals and monsters and super-awesome machines nobody else has thought of yet.  My favorite was a robot named Pi-zzabot that could bake a pizza and do my Math homework at the same time.  I drew a toaster that could tie shoes and smear peanut butter on bread for Annie, too, but I still think Pi-zzabot is better.

Today I want to finish the animal I’ve been working on for a few days.  I mean, I guess he’s an animal.  His head is round and soft like a teddy bear with shiny black eyes, but he’s no ordinary teddy bear.  The rest of his body will have long tentacles like an octopus--once I finish.  

In the middle of drawing Octobear’s third oozing tentacle, my pencil lead snaps off.  I growl and fling my wounded pencil out the open window before I realize that was my last pencil.  

Lila’s in her room with her door open when I stomp by.  She leans in close to the mirror on her dresser and dabs at her eyelashes with a tiny black brush.  Girls are weird.  You’d never catch me poking myself in the eye with anything to make myself look pretty.  

I peek my head in her room.  “Hey, you got a pencil?”  

She stops and looks at me with the brush hovering near her eyeball.  I flinch and look away.  Even though Lila is my sister doesn’t mean I want her to become a cyclops or wear a patch over her eye.  

“No, Daniel,” she replies.  “I do not have a pencil.”  

Who died and made her an English teacher all of the sudden?  She probably needed to help poor Tommy out, not me, since he couldn’t even come up with a better word than “draw-er”.  I stalk away, taking back all the nice things I’d ever said about her, which weren’t that many.

I want to ask Mom about pencils but Tommy and his fists still lurk in the living room.  Octobear needs more legs, but if Tommy punches me one more time my arm’s going fall off.  Without my arm, it’ll be hard to draw.

The only other place to look is the attic.  I’m not really supposed to snoop around up there because Mom says I make a mess.  This one time I found a bunch of brand new action figures Dad hadn’t even opened yet.  His face turned purple when he found me playing with them a few days later.  Since then, the attic has been off-limits for me.  Octobear needs me, though.

It takes a while, but I find a box of old art supplies buried under a fake Christmas tree and a bin of my old baby clothes.  The stuff inside the box is mostly junk.  I push aside a stack of paper with brown water spots and small containers of dried-up paint until I feel something smooth and wooden.  The wooden thing ends up being a case, and when I open it up there’s a half-used pencil wrapped in green velvet.  Yes!  Why anyone would put a plain old pencil in a box like that, I don’t know, but Dad is weird and keeps his toys in boxes, too.  With a shrug, I toss the box to the side and hurry back down to my room.

I finish drawing the last of Octobear’s limbs and start on a cat who will have a jetpack on his back - I’m saving that part for last! - when Mom calls me down for dinner.  The meatloaf is extra dry tonight and Dad talks for a whole ten minutes about some market on Wall Street, wherever that is.  As soon as I choke down the last awful bite, I run back to my room, ready to send a cat into orbit.

Only one problem.  There’s a cat on my desk and he looks kind of familiar.  

The cat stands up and puffs his snowy fur.  “Hey, pal,”  he says.  

I rub my eyes and blink, then look over my shoulder towards the stairs where the rest of my family is still talking about James Bond or something.  I knew this day would come--Mom’s meatloaf had finally driven me insane.  

“Not gonna answer me?”  He closes his yellow eyes and shakes his head.  “That’s fine.  But do me a favor, kid?”

My mouth hangs open.  If I try to speak, the words get stuck inside of me.

He turns to the paper lying on the desk next to him and I see an empty space where his back should be.  With his paw, he pats my cat drawing on the page.

“Finish drawing me.”

I slam the door behind me and run downstairs as fast as I can.  Mom said she wants me to make new friends, and I guess I had.
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Life of the Party

7/11/2013

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My favorite exchange from tonight's writing. Enjoy!

~~~


None of Derek’s buddies wanted to turn on him--they had their social standing to think about.  I got it, but, thanks, guys.  No, really!  I’m fine here under 175 pounds of misguided hormones.  

If only Tanya had given in when I’d begged her to come with me to the afterparty, then Derek would be all up in her business instead of man-handling me.  None of the rumors at school on Monday morning would be about me, at least.  But, nooo...  She had to go and catch the flu and leave me here with Mr. Grabbyhands.  I was calling her first thing in the morning to tell her to dump this loser, that is, if he didn’t suffocate me first.

“Lulu,”  Derek slurred.

“Lucy!”

“That’s what I said!”  He insisted, showing every single one of his pearly whites.  “Liesl.”

“Now you’re just making it up.”

“You know who you are and you know you want to take this party somewhere more... pirate.”  He suggested, his hooded eyes way too close to mine.  In case I hadn’t caught his meaning, he brought his foul mouth back to my ear and proceeded to stick his nasty tongue in there.  Ewww.  Who did that?

As enticing as his slobber was in my ear-hole, I’d had enough.  “It’s ‘private’, you moron!  And you seriously need to get off of me right now.”
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For My Husband

6/28/2013

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"Wrong lead, Gina!" I called out over my shoulder to the rider on the bay.  He used to be a nice horse.  Heck, they'd all been nice horses. 

"I know!"  She huffed in return, waiting until they had landed after the oxer and lurched into a trot.  "We can't do it any other way.  Charlie's about to drop a leg."

There was that feeling in my stomach again, the mixture of pity and sadness each time we lost one.  I'd had that feeling a lot lately as, one by one, The Change claimed its next victim.
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    S. J.

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