• Through devoted practice, was able to explain what ALAN stood for at any time, any place (the Assembly on Literature for Adolescents)!
• Met lots of very dedicated teachers, professors and librarians who reminded me that writing for teens is one very cool job
• Spoke on a panel with the talented Matt de la Pena, Maureen Johnson and Paula Jolin. Managed to include talk of pastries. Perhaps incited apple pie hunger in all attendees. Or at least one.
• Signed lots of copies of CANDOR, may they bring joy to all their future readers and owners (pic at left)
• Snuck away for a near-midnight screening of NEW MOON, made doubly fun by my brave companions... learned that apparently it is Philly tradition to talk to the movie without shame (fun! but my relatively staid upstate NY upbringing only allowed me to mutter into my giant bottle of Aquafina)
• Listened to, and was inspired by, lots of authors on panels... I think my favorite was Sharon M. Draper, whose passion and focus blew me away.
• Slept like the dead after my whirlwind ALAN tour!

I was poking through the liner notes to Colbie Caillat’s album BREAKTHROUGH today, and I found this:

“These songs can mean whatever you want them to mean, they are now yours.”

I love that—because I believe any sort of art is transformed by the experiencing of it. We each bring our own experiences and life viewpoints to art. No two people hear the same exact song or feel the same exact way when they listen to it. The same thing goes for looking at paintings, and eating a gourmet meal, and… reading a book.

And yet we authors are often asked what messages we wanted to convey in our book. And goodness knows that countless hours have been spent in literature classes, debating exactly what The Author wanted the reader to see behind their words. Doesn’t this imply that authors want to control their audience and their experience? That we want to pick up their puppet strings and tell them how to feel and what to think when they read our stories?

Sure, CANDOR has some things to say about individuality and the dangers of control. But that’s my read of the book. Somebody else might find that my story says something different to them. And that’s just fine with me. It’s just as valid as my opinion.

Don’t get me wrong—I think there’s great value in discussing literature and the author’s intent. But I bet if you sat down with 10 authors and asked them to say, honestly, what they hoped to accomplish with their book…. you know what they’d say?

“I hoped it would be a good read. And I hoped someone would publish it. And that lots of someones would read it.”

If we’re lucky, our readers will feel strongly about our work. And they’ll make it their own.

Maybe your weather is better than it is in DC today, but I’m personally sitting here with down slippers and a steaming cup of coffee, cursing the cold drizzle outside. Which is the perfect night to be talking about Kristina Springer’s debut young adult novel, THE ESPRESSOLOGIST. Grab a latte and cozy up to her story today! (Buy on IndieBound, Amazon or your local bookstore).

A bit about THE ESPRESSOLOGIST:

What’s your drink of choice? Is it a small pumpkin spice latte? Then you’re lots of fun and a bit sassy. Or a medium americano? You prefer simplicity in life. Or perhaps it’s a small decaf soy sugar-free hazelnut caffe latte? Some might call you a yuppie. Seventeen-year-old barista Jane Turner has this theory that you can tell a lot about a person by their regular coffee drink. She scribbles it all down in a notebook and calls it Espressology. So it’s not a totally crazy idea when Jane starts hooking up some of her friends based on their coffee orders. Like her best friend, Em, a medium hot chocolate, and Cam, a toffee nut latte. But when her boss, Derek, gets wind of Jane’s Espressology, he makes it an in-store holiday promotion, promising customers their perfect matches for the price of their favorite coffee. Things are going better than Derek could ever have hoped, so why is Jane so freaked out? Does it have anything to do with Em dating Cam? She’s the one who set them up! She should be happy for them, right?

Kristina answered my three fave questions:

--I think teen books can, and should, be read by grown-ups. Tell my grandma Grace why she should read your book.
You would love it Grandma Grace! The Espressologist hooks up coffee lovers of all ages!
--What would your 16-year-old self say if she read your book?
This is so good-- and that farting in the bathroom thing totally happened to me in junior high too. Weird.
--I am fascinated by writers' inspirations. Tell me about a real-life setting that found its way into your book.
Starbucks. I wrote the entire book from the same table in my local Starbucks. This was so incredibly useful- I wish I could sit down and write in every setting I use in my books.

And finally, all about Kristina:

Kristina Springer has a Bachelor of Arts in English Education from Illinois State University and a Master of Arts in Writing from DePaul University. Her first novel, THE ESPRESSOLOGIST, was published by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux on October 27, 2009. Her second novel, MY FAKE BOYFRIEND IS BETTER THAN YOURS, also from FSG, will be published in the fall of 2010. She lives in a suburb of Chicago, IL with her husband Athens and their four small children Teegan, Maya, London, and Gavin.

I am pumped to welcome fellow DC author Jon Skovron to my blog today to celebrate the release of his debut, STRUTS &  FRETS. Dude authors are definitely under-represented in the YA universe and Jon has a strong, unique voice. You won’t be sorry you picked up STRUTS & FRETS! (Buy it your local bookstore, at IndieBound or on Amazon)…

A bit about STRUTS & FRETS:

More than anything, Sammy wants to play guitar in a famous indie rock band. The problem is that his front man is a jerk who can't sing, his bassist is a burn-out who can't remember the songs, and his drummer is just out to lunch. But Sammy needs this band because it's the only good thing he's got going. His father skipped out before he was born, his mother is an overworked therapist with a drinking problem, his grandfather is slowly losing his mind to Alzheimer's, and the girl of his dreams is dating his jerk lead singer.

Now that jerk lead singer has entered them in a Battle of the Bands contest to win free studio time and guaranteed radio play. Sammy has two weeks to get them to sound like a real band, or face public humiliation in front of the entire local indie music scene.

Jon answered my three fave questions:

--I think teen books can, and should, be read by grown-ups. Tell my grandma Grace why she should read your book.
One of the pivotal relationships in the book is Sammy, a struggling teen indie rocker, and his grandfather, a retired and somewhat senile jazz pianist. The way they are able to bridge the generational gap with music is one of my favorite aspects of the book.
--What would your 16-year-old self say if she read your book?
I think it would have been hard for him to read, because it would have struck really close to home, but in the end he would have loved it. The trick, of course, would be to get him to read it in the first place. At that time, if it wasn't horror, sci-fi, or fantasy, he didn't even give it a chance. Poor guy. He missed out on a lot.
--I am fascinated by writers' inspirations. Tell me about a real-life setting that found its way into your book.
The coffee shop that the characters hang out in is called Idiot Child. it's actually a combination of two different coffee shops I used to hang out at called Idiot Boy and Luna. Luna, in particular, was a special place for me. It's where I had my first real gig. I used to perform at open mics there all the time. I knew the owner and met so many cool people there. It was a safe place to go and be a little dangerous.

And finally, all about Jon:

Jon Skovron is an insatiable music geek who can play eight instruments, but none of them well. He was born in Columbus, Ohio, has lived all over the US, and now resides with his wife and two sons in Washington, DC. His short stories and reviews have appeared in publications like Jim Baen's Universe and Internet Review of Science Fiction. Struts & Frets is his first novel.

Any writer who tells you they’ve never thought about quitting writing is a big fat liar.

I’ve thought about it plenty. And I’ve even tried, a few times. For me that never last more than a few sulky hours. I am most likely to walk out on my writing in the heat of the moment: when a plot seems impossible, when I hate every word that I write, when my big gorgeous ideas become shrunken, dried-out bits of blah on the page.

But last week I saw some discussion on a listserv about a writer, Declan Burke, who has thought long and hard, applied logic and reason, and decided to quit. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy. We’ve got a lot in common: GenX’ers with a young family to take care of, trying to squeeze writing around that and our demanding day job. I think I know how he felt, when he made this decision; he probably felt like there would never, ever be enough time in the day. Like writing was the ultimate selfish act. Like if he just quit writing, things would be easier. Much easier. Hey. I feel all those things sometimes too.

But you know what stopped that thinking cold for me, the last few months? When my four year old insisted that I read him CANDOR—my young adult novel with over 200 pages and zero illustrations. I’d given him his own signed copy, thinking he’d put it on the shelf with the other signed chapter books I’d collected for him at conferences, for Some Day Far Away when he’d read them. But no—he brought it to me, the biggest smile on his face, and insisted: “read, Mommy. Read me the book that you wrote. Read me all the words.” I read him the first chapter, and thought that would be it. But no. Every night he asks for the next chapter. We’re nearly at the halfway point now. No worries, I’m not reading him all the words or even paragraphs (if you’ve read CANDOR, you can imagine the bits I’m excising). But he’s fascinated. I’d like to think it’s fabulous writing that’s got him enthralled, but I think it’s something else.

This book made me a real-life superhero in my son’s eyes. A superhero whose cape he can borrow.

I did something that he knew, theoretically, was possible. Someone had to write all those books that threaten to spill from every available space in his room. Mo Willems and Ted Arnold and Kate DiCamillo are real people, he knows. He’s just never met them, let alone seen them in sweatpants with hair that hasn’t been washed in three days. But here’s his ordinary mother, whose book sits right next to those other books. She did this.

Which means he can do it too.

Now he’s dictating “chapters” of a story about a dinosaur family to a very patient teacher at his school. He brings one home each night and I read it to him, usually several times. He’s so proud of his story. And he tells me he’s going to write more, and more…just like Mommy.

How could I quit now?

I know this could be a short-term thing. And there’s no way I’ll pressure him to write. This has to be his thing. But… it could last forever. My example could boost him to write bigger, bolder, better things than me.

My grandfather played piano in bars and restaurants, every Friday and Saturday night, while he held down a full-time corporate job. He never quit that job. He never quit playing. Then his kids came along and loved music too. One even made a living teaching music. She was able to make her passion for music a full-time job… something he probably dreamed of, but never got to do.

They say that children stand on their parents’ shoulders. Being a writer makes my shoulders a pretty cool place to stand. So now, when I want to quit, I think of my son’s face when he held that copy of CANDOR out to me. I want him to hold other books out to me too. Books that inspire him and show him that anyone can write a book… or follow any dream.

You just can’t quit. And you have to give yourself permission to keep going.

You have always had an "active" imagination. As my big sister, I'm always inclined to believe you when you speak of things like lake monsters and psycho squirrels that hide in the bedroom. But then Mom usually has to remind me that I shouldn't believe everything you tell me. I wouldn't be surprised if the basis for your dark material comes from those crazy, whacked out nightmares you have!
Q. Go ahead. Tell people what it was like growing up with me!
Honestly, you were the best sister any little sister could have. Well, except for when you and your friend Amy thought it'd be fun to put your baby sis out on the patio roof. But, I was always ready and willing to be your 80's fashion model and walk the "runway" and I was always jealous that you could go out on the sailboat by yourself. Beyond that, you were a bit of a "drama queen", not only because you were the star lead in all the plays (which I attended EVERY SINGLE PERFORMANCE THANK YOU VERY MUCH), but because you tended to be a taaad over dramatic about things like failing your driver's test. Sometimes people think sisters who are far apart in age couldn't be close, but I tell them it's just the opposite - my sister is my best friend!
Q. What was your first clue that I might end up being a writer?

It definitely came as no surprise to me, you were always getting published here and there in places like Merlyn's Pen and Talent Unlimited! English was always one of your favorite subjects, and you were an editor of your college newspaper at Boston University. I was always pulling for you to be an actress so I could go to the Oscars with you, but I guess being a writer isn't a bad second choice. Does the Pulitzer have an award ceremony I can go to?
Q. You read Mom and Dad's interview. Anything you want to add or rebut?

Yes. In our parents’ interview, they make reference to you writing a review for a software program. Would just like to mention that the review was written by moi, your little sis, and it was for a dinosaur computer program for Zillionaire magazine. Go figure that I also, to an extent, write for a living by writing grants!
Q. What's the craziest thing you've done to promote your beloved sister's book?

Two years ago, our little family said goodbye to Florida. It had been home, a good home, for six and a half years. Why did we do it? And what did we gain from it?

And what did we lose?

Halloween will probably always make me remember our last night in Celebration. We sat on our porch handing out candy from a moving box. Behind us the house was empty; the moving truck had pulled away the day before. Little Dude dressed up like a fireman, oblivious and joyful, not understanding that this was goodbye. That night we slept in a fancy hotel just south of town. I washed away tearstains with grapefruit-scented soap.

We left for Washington, DC. Every single person here was a stranger to us, except for the people who had hired us to work for them, and one couple we’d been friends with in Florida but hadn’t seen in several years. We didn’t have doctors, dentists, a favorite Chinese takeout place, a coffee shop where they recognized our faces… and we definitely didn’t know any shortcuts around town. In fact I’m still working on the shortcuts. When we had my son’s third birthday party a few months after moving in, I put invitations in his school friend’s mailboxes and prayed that at least some of the parents would come to a stranger’s house for my kid’s birthday (they did--and in fact, some of those kind strangers are close friends today).

There are people, and memories, in Florida that we simply can’t replace. We said goodbye to a wide, warm circle of friends and a huge comfort level with our town and our jobs. And we left behind tangible proof of memories, too. I remember tracing my finger over the dent in Little Dude’s nursery wall, the one that the rocker left behind, and crying. My husband filled in the dent before we left. I didn’t return to the room to see the job finished.

Why did we do it? And why did we do it twice? Yes, twice… before Florida, we lived in Boston, another wrenching goodbye that found me wailing “I can’t leave!” as we pulled away. No, wailing isn’t quite the right word. Shrieking, maybe, mixed with gut-twisting sobs. Not that I tend towards drama or anything.

We did it for adventure, and to grow; neither of us is content with simply mastering something and then resting. We did it for our family, too, especially moving up to the DC area: we’re closer to our extended family, now, and Little Dude will get to enjoy some of the best schools in the country. And we missed city life and culture.

The move wasn’t easy, but we’ve gained so much—beyond the benefits I’ve already mentioned:

--As a family, we’re more resilient, and we know that we can handle anything so long as we have each other.

--We know what we really need to be happy, too: a big move strips away so much. You learn what you really need to be content and what’s just trappings. Most stuff? Just trappings. Although, um, I still have a ton of trappings collecting dust in my fabulous basement. (Didn’t have THOSE in Florida!).

--We’ve learned how to make the things we want HAPPEN. Because when you move, you get lots of practice at that. Want friends? Better go find some (I started a new Bunco group here and I treasure my friends from it). Homesick? Get out in your new community and find new places to love (like the Parkway Deli and its amazing matzo ball soup). It’s a lot of work. But you learn how to be a self-starter, and how to get what you want without anybody else’s help.

I’ll always miss parts of living in Florida and Boston, but I love our lives here in the DC area too. After two years, it feels like home, finally. Except for when it’s dark and I miss the turn from East West Highway to Colesville once again… and I remember for a few minutes how it felt to be brand-new.

It’s exhilarating. Terrifying. And odds are, someday we’ll do it again. Paris, here we come…someday, probably when Little Dude is off to college. Or maybe London? Sydney? The upper west side? Who knows!

Yesterday my kidlit bookclub discussed Dilys Evans’ title Show and Tell: The Fine Art of Picture Book Illustration.

I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure this would be the most relevant book for me, since I focus on writing YA and I’m definitely not an artist. But I’m so glad I read this book. I discovered new illustrators and learned fascinating things about the ones I was already familiar with. And I definitely will look at picture books with a whole new level of appreciation. But perhaps most importantly, this book reminded me of three things that are important to any artist in any medium:

1. You are what you eat: So many of the profiled illustrators grew up in homes that were filled with art, or were exposed to diverse visual sources and inspirations at an early age. Lane Smith’s mother, for example, brought home interesting objects from her antiques business, which influenced Smith’s style of collages and decayed finishes. The lesson for writers? Keep reading to your kids, of course. But surround yourself with interesting objects and writing, too. Even if it doesn’t seem directly relevant to your genre or your current work-in-progress, seek out what fascinates you. It’ll find its way into your art.

2. Every artist’s career and body of work is “seat of the pants”: Not a single one of the illustrators sat down and drew up a 30-year career plan, or even a 5-year career plan. Most did actively seek out work and I’d say every single person eventually found a mentor or partner who helped to shape their career. But they built their impressive careers one project at a time, choosing the work that spoke to them and growing with every book. Writers, we don’t have to know what’s coming 10 years from now. Write what you believe in, take advantage of the opportunities that you do discover, and then do they very best you can with it. It’s all you really can do. If you set out with one particular path in mind, odds are you will be disappointed.

3. Follow your bliss: David Shannon finds that he’s still drawing the things that fascinated him as a kid (such as, oh, the pirates that helped to make HOW I BECAME A PIRATE such a smash hit). Trina Schart Hyman was obsessed with Little Red Riding Hood when she was a very small girl and won the Caldecott Medal in 1984 for her illustration of that story. As artists we shouldn’t dismiss the things that fascinate us—we should embrace them, even if we worry that they’re silly or childish. Our interpretation of those things will deepen and mature as we grow as artists.

I will caution any writer or artist that reading this book has a dangerous side effect: you WILL want to immediately set to work on creating your own picture book. Hmmm, maybe it’s time to pull GO HOME GRANDMA out of the dustbin for some polishing (did you hear my agent just shudder?)….

I started by carving a surprised face. Then I got out the drill and used dots to write a message (or should I say Message?) across the back of the pumpkin: U R WHAT U HEAR. If you've already read CANDOR, you know where that came from.

A favorite naughty, naughty CANDOR snack found its way in front of my jack-o-lantern, too. Is that pumpkin shocked? Or is it just making a move on the M&Ms?

I’ve been a library fine scofflaw ever since my mother stopped returning my library books for me (just last year! ba-dum-ching!)… but seriously folks, I have a problem with library fines.

The good librarians of Ballston Spa, Saratoga, Salem, Plymouth, Weymouth, and Orlando haven’t chased me down, at least yet (do you loyal blog readers understand the RISK I undertake for you in daring to write this entry?).  Although I do seem to recall that my mother was denied a card a A Certain Library because of my checkered background (luckily she was able to demonstrate that I had lived on my own for oh, ten years by that point…). And I won’t get any static from last Florida county of residence, Osceola County, because they did not HAVE library fines (a beautiful, beautiful thing…).

As for my current public library, I actually keep up with my fines, mostly because they let me pay online. Do I keep up with returning things on time? No. And there’s guilt, lots of guilt. And big fines when I forget about movies, especially. A dollar a day, people. I could have owned “Marley and Me” twice over.

My current library system sends me the nicest little e-mail reminders that say something along the lines of “please return your materials promptly so that others may enjoy them.” They remind me twice, even, before the book is due. I walk by my (most always sizeable) stack of library books and I can almost hear them talking to me.

“You’re not reading us,” they’d say. “You were done with us weeks ago. Or maybe you read a few chapters and you tossed us aside like 3-day-old fish. If you don’t want us, if you don’t love us, then why don’t you give somebody else a shot?”

“It’s just… the library is 2 miles away. And that left-hand turn off Colesville is a killer during rush hour,” I tell them. “Plus there was that one time I didn’t find parking. It scarred me. I swear it’s me, not you.”

The books do not believe me. And maybe they shouldn’t. I’ve found that I tend to return my favorites fast, like they’re burning through the shelf. The ones I don’t like tend to linger in my book pile. Ironically, they are the ones that tend to earn the library fines. I don’t know if I’m hoping at some level to try them again and like them. Or maybe some part of me thinks I’m doing the world a service by clinging to that book a few more days.

At least the librarians still smile at me when I come to check out a book. They know me at this point; if they charged for reserving books I would have bought them a new Children’s wing by now. And they know my card is always… uh, enhanced by a few fines.  But still they hand over the books, even help me slide them into my bag.

Just imagine what they say as I walk out the door with my latest treasure trove of books. “See you next year, book,” they say. “We’ll send you a Christmas card.”

Or maybe they say “hey, that’s the lady that bought us a new coffee maker with all those fines she paid!”

Drink on, sweet patient librarians. Next year it’ll be an espresso machine.

This week I launched a free audio podcast that is an extension of CANDOR's world. The villain of CANDOR, Campbell Banks, narrates his personal diaries at the time that the town of Candor, FL was built. I'm really excited about these podcasts; I think they're an interesting way to promote the book while also giving fans a fun extension to the world they've already experienced in CANDOR.

But I feel very guilty saying I launched these podcasts. This project has been an amazing collaborative effort. I wrote the scripts--something entirely new to me--after brainstorming series ideas with my agent, Elana Roth, and e-guru Dan Patterson. Then Dan hooked us up with CC Chapman, who did a most excellent job recording the podcasts and bringing Campbell Banks to life. But no podcast is complete without some rocking music, so Dan also reached out to musician Matthew Ebel. Finally, Dan mixed, posted and promoted the podcasts.  And of course none of this would have been possible without support and enthusiasm from my publisher, Egmont USA.

I would love to see other authors play with podcasts that extend their book's world. I am indeed very lucky to have Elana, Dan, CC and Matthew collaborating with me, but I think it would be possible to do a one-woman or one-man show too. I also wonder if some of us YA authors ought to get together and make podcasts with our own characters interacting--kind of our very own fanfic!

Number three ("Runaway Mom") just went live late last night, and there's more to come, so I hope you'll stay tuned or subscribe to the podcast.

And authors, if you want to play in podcast land with me, get in touch...
 

As I've mentioned in my blog before, I am a proud member of the Debutantes, a group of authors whose first Young Adult and Middle Grade books are coming out in 2009. We are, as a group, giving away 42 of our titles to one lucky public or school library--anywhere in the world. I sure would love to see an entry with CANDOR in the pic! Good luck to all the library entrants!

Little Dude is counting the days until Halloween. As soon as the costume aisle in Target showed up (you know, right around July 4th), he was agonizing: Batman or Superman? Doctor or policeman?

For those keeping track, Superman won. I think the snazzy rubber yellow belt did it.

But I had my own little agony, looking at all of his choices. Apparently kids can't be superheroes without a little enhancement these days. It's not enough to don a cape and mask. No. Now you need a six pack. All of those spandex-type costumes come with build-in little plastic abs: Superman, Batman, Iron Man... you get the idea. Target calls them "muscle chest" costumes.

Maybe it seems cute at first. But imagine if we did this to costumes for girls. "Big-chested Tinkerbell"? "Bouncing Barbie"? Hardly. I would like to think, at least, that there would be an outcry.

So why is it OK to give boys this message? If you want to save the world, better hit the gym, dudes. Sooner the better. Put down that stinking book already and give me fifty.

And how about little girls who want to play at being the Dark Knight and friends? I mean, it's impossible for find a Supergirl costume at Tarjay. Sometimes a girl has to compromise. But she's far less likely to do so if faced with donning a manly six-pack. Our toys for kids just get more and more "gender identified" (another rant for another time).

Little Dude doesn't seem to notice the muscles, though this Beauty Myth disciple does worry about how it's messing with his mind, at some level.  If he starts hefting my five-pound dumb bells, I'm writing a letter to... someone.

I’m excited to welcome Megan Crewe to my blog today in celebration of her debut GIVE UP THE GHOST. I recently read this book and totally enjoyed it. It made me wonder whether there are any ghosts hovering around me and I don’t even realize it. Guess I’ll need Cass to help me figure it out! Buy a copy today, and also check out Megan’s contest to win a copy of her book, as well as Advance Reader Copies of some other hot YA titles!

A bit about GIVE UP THE GHOST:

Cass McKenna much prefers the company of ghosts over "breathers." Ghosts are uncomplicated and dependable, and they know the dirt on everybody... and Cass loves dirt. She's on a mission to expose the dirty secrets of the poseurs in her school.

But when the vice president of the student council discovers <i>her</i> secret, Cass's whole scheme hangs in the balance. Tim wants her to help him contact his recently deceased mother, and Cass reluctantly agrees.

As Cass becomes increasingly entwined in Tim's life, she's surprised to realize he's not so bad--and he needs help more desperately than anyone else suspects. Maybe it's time to give the living another chance...

Megan answered my three fave questions:

--I think teen books can, and should, be read by grown-ups. Tell my grandma Grace why she should read your book. GIVE UP THE GHOST deals with grief, forgiveness, and coming to terms with past events--things adults deal with just as often as teens. Reading about it from a young adult point of view might give you a new perspective!

--What would your 16-year-old self say if she read your book? "Cool story! I wonder if the kids at my school get away with as much as the ones at Cass's?"

--I am fascinated by writers' inspirations. Tell me about a real-life setting that found its way into your book. The lake in the book (and the beach and park beside it) are based on my memories of going down to Lake Ontario as a kid and teen. Not all of the details are the same, but it was a place that always felt very powerful to me, which is probably why it ended up in the book.

And finally, all about Megan:

Like many fiction authors, Megan Crewe finds writing about herself much more difficult than making things up. A few definite facts: she lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband and two cats (and does on occasion say "eh"), she tutors children and teens with special needs, and she has yet to make friends with a ghost, though she welcomes the opportunity.

So I'm pondering what to make my family for dinner. It could be grilled chicken, or maybe whole-wheat pasta, or there's that leftover chicken soup from the other night...

Are you salivating? Longing to knock on my door and join me, Little Dude and Patron of The Arts for dinner?

No??

What if I said I was considering homemade belgian waffles with peanut butter sauce and chocolate chips? Or maybe an apple pie with ice cream. Or deep dish pizza straight from the oven, with garlic sticks on the side. Or... how about a sampler platter of every cupcake made by Georgetown Cupcake?

That's more like it, eh?

Nutrition has its place in our everyday lives, and so does the Very Important Reading that teens have a regular diet of in school. You can't miss out on Steinbeck and Shakespeare. But you know what? Sometimes all you want is something that you picked out. Something nobody told you to read. Something that made you drool---like a red velvet cupcake, only, you know, made of paper and entirely inedible.

That's what the American Library Association's Teen Read Week is all about. Libraries all around the country are putting together fun programs this week to encourage teens, and pre-teens, to stop on by for some partying and some fun reading. Call your local library to see what's stirring in your town, or check out the ALA wiki for the event.

And even if you can't make the event, pick up a book that fascinates and transports you. My recommendation? Read it under your bedspread, with a flashlight, and maybe even a cupcake (shh, don't tell anyone that part was my idea). It will be even more delicious.

And psst.... adults, this is for you too. Put down your work report/night school textbook/bank statement/ Very Serious Book and grab something you're just dying to read, too. Like... a YA novel. C'mon. You know you want to.

On Sunday, our little family headed off to the Mid-Atlantic Gleaning Network's warehouse in Brandywine, MD, to volunteer along with our congregation.  It was our annual "gleaning", when we help to pick or pack food for the hungry--food that otherwise would have rotted in fields after the commercial harvest was done.

This year we sorted giant boxes (they'd fit about 20 Little Dudes handily...) of sweet potatoes donated by a farmer in North Carolina, checking for rotten potatoes (very few were found) and putting them in bags. It wasn't tough work and by the time an hour had passed, our group had emptied the four giant boxes. We must have filled at least fifty big (50 pound+) bags. Those bags will head off to food banks and congregations that directly feed people in need.

We weren't even there for two hours, but all three of us left feeling so light and happy. For at least one Sunday morning, we didn't linger over coffee and bagels. We did something that made an active difference for people who aren't lucky enough to dash off to their favorite bakery every time they have a yen for a cinnamon roll.

Today I’m celebrating the release of the Jennifer Jabaley’s debut, LIPSTICK APOLOGY. I love the concept of this book, and the story delivers on its promise. It was a rockin’ fun read and you ought to go get your own copy today!

A bit about LIPSTICK APOLOGY:

Four little words written in lipstick mean Emily must say goodbye to everything she knows. Emily Carson has always been a good girl. So when she throws a party the night her parents leave for vacation, she's sure she'll get busted. What Emily doesn't know is that her parents will never return. That their plane will go down. And the only thing left amidst the wreckage will be a tray table with the words: Emily please forgive me scrawled in lipstick - her mother's last words.

Now it's fall in New York City and Emily's trying to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. Her public tragedy captures the attention of more than just the media - and soon two very different boys at her new school are pursuing her: the cute, popular Owen, and the quirky chemistry partner slash pastry-baker-by-night, Anthony. But even with such delicious distractions, Emily can't let go of her mother's mysterious apology. Does she have the courage to face the truth?

With help of a whole new kind of family - one that includes a make-up artist to the stars, a teen hand model, and a wacky hairdresser - Emily must choose between the boy who makes her forget it all, and the one who encourages her to remember, and ultimately, heal.

Jennifer answered my three fave questions:

--I think teen books can, and should, be read by grown-ups. Tell my grandma Grace why she should read your book.
Grandma Grace - you have a young spirit, I can tell! Who wouldn't want to relive first love, new experiences and family bonding?
--What would your 16-year-old self say if she read your book?
This is so sweet and funny. And I love that Trent guy! And I want Anthony as my chemistry partner!
--I am fascinated by writers' inspirations. Tell me about a real-life setting that found its way into your book.
LIPSTICK APOLOGY is filled with lots of real life places but I think what I like best is the two rivers: The Delaware River in Emily's hometown is peaceful and serene, canopied by big oak trees. The Hudson River, which her new apartment in NYC overlooks, is frantic and rough and surrounded by tall, gray buildings. I feel like the rivers demonstrate the change in Emily's life and the upheaval of her peace.
Thanks, Pam!

And finally, all about Jennifer:

Jennifer Jabaley was born in New York and raised in Bridgewater, New Jersey. She graduated from James Madison University with a degree in chemistry and received a doctorate from Southern College of Optometry. A part-time optometrist and mother of two, Jennifer began writing her first novel after a phone call from her sister sparked an idea for a story that lingered in her mind and stirred her creative juices. LIPSTICK APOLOGY was released in August of 2009 by Razorbill. Jen lives in Blue Ridge, Georgia and is currently at work on her second book.

So I know I’ve been posting my fair share of interviews with me, lately, on the CANDOR Facebook fan page and via Twitter… so I thought I’d turn the tables a bit.

I interviewed my Mom and Dad.

Below you will find the unvarnished and revealing words of the brave people who raised me and bought me a TRS-80 so I could write rambling stories about mermaids. And now I know why they are so happy about this book being published: at least I did not become an actress.

Yet.

Kidding… probably. Love you, Mom and Dad.

Q. Some people ask me what sort of trauma I experienced as a child, because I write dark things. Can either of you shed any light of this?
DAD: Trauma, you want trauma? Two incidents stand out. The very first bath and the result was a blood curdling yell. I can still feel it. The second was when the road test did not end in success. The second blood curdling scream of excruciating pain was heard. The crystal in the closet vibrated, the guinea pigs dug deep into the litter and the Westminster Chimes missed the quarter-hour strike.

MOM: I remember a nightmare when you could not be convinced that there wasn’t a squirrel running around your room. Even in the morning, you couldn’t be convinced. Does chicken for dinner every third night count as trauma?

Q. What was your first clue that I might end up being a writer?
MOM: Oh boy – all those stories you wrote and illustrated from the time you could hold a crayon! And you “read” every one of those to us! I also remember a very cute second-grader announcing to me that someday she was going to be a real writer (like Mrs. Ellis, I do believe.)

DAD: When you were published in the BOCES (Board of Cooperative Educations Services) talent review. But then again there was that software review you wrote for a magazine at an early age.

Q. Which one of my varied career ambitions made you most worried for my future?

DAD: Easy, when you wanted to go to BU and enroll in the school of dramatics or performing arts - whichever! All I could picture was a poor starving young woman looking for crusts of bread in the back of Italian restaurants in NYC.

MOM: Without a doubt, your acting/singing ambitions. I will always be grateful to the Boston U interviewer who convinced you that you would need a back-up career! And from that, a communications major was born. WHEW!

Q. How do you think parents can best encourage their children to love reading and writing?

DAD: By reading to them every night. Have books and magazine readily available and let your children see parents reading. Children learn by imitation and if parents don't read, how will children get the message? With all candor it is very important the children get the message. (Pam’s note: Do you see? They promote for me at every turn. Is that love or WHAT?)

MOM: Read, read, read! Parents who read to and with their children are giving them the best gift possible.  Writing follows reading, but not every avid reader enjoys writing (such as your mother). And if you remember, you and I read together until you were in middle school. After that, we read the same books and discussed them.  There is no such thing as reading too much with your children! I also recommend a trip to the bookstore as a great reward for a good report card.

Q. What's the craziest thing you've done to promote your beloved daughter's book?

DAD: I visit Borders on a regular basis and keeping moving CANDOR to the front of the shelf. I also started a thread featuring the book on my BMW motorcycle forum.

MOM: Hmm, I don’t know about “craziest” but I’ve certainly been promoting it to anyone who will listen to me! I’ve sent out e-mails periodically to everyone who has expressed an interest in your writing, and that list of people has grown over the past months. My CURVES buddies know about it, I announced it at the Music Company Orchestra rehearsal Monday night, and I check any bookstore I’m near to see if it’s there and is placed “properly.” Now if you send me a Candor T-shirt . . . who knows what I might do!