Happiness Is . . .

Have you ever noticed that some people in this world are just happier than others? Ever wondered why? Well, it turns out it's the sheets.

All this time I was sleeping on 250-thread count sheets and thinking all sheets were created equal. Then Wal-Mart throws a bunch of sheets in a clearance bin for $10 a set. Since we just got a new comforter, I decided to get some sheets to match: 420-thread count.

And you know what? Now I'm one of the happy ones. Man, those things are soft.

The Trouble with Writing

Here, encapsulated, is what it is like to write a book:

First you get the premise and you're all excited.

Until you realize you have no plot. So then you figure out the plot and you're doing well.

Until you're not sure what the twist is supposed to be.

And somewhere in there, you realize you've cranked out a really bad chapter or twelve that need massive revision and you still haven't written "the end."

Only this whole process takes weeks and months out of your life. So you're really hoping that when you do actually write "the end" you'll have something that you can hopefully edit into some sort of submission (for submission). Which may or may not be the case.

Why Do I Write for Kids?

Why is it so much fun to write for kids? I think it's because I can get away with things. Actually, there are two parts to that. I can get away with stuff as a writer, and the kids I write about can get away with stuff too. If my kids fib to me, they get in trouble. If my characters tell outrageous lies about what they're doing when they're actually stranded in an African jungle, well, they get off scot-free. Writing frees me from the constraints of parenting. If I can't be a cool parent, at least I can write one.

Max took a deep breath of his own before dialing his home number.

“Hello? It’s me, mom. . . could I have dinner with Alf tonight?”

“Well, what are they having” his mother asked. She was so nosy.

“ . . . uh, I don’t know, let me check” Max covered the holes on the end of the phone and hissed “what are we having?” to Alf.

“I don’t know!” Alf whispered back.

“Well, what do you usually have?” asked Max urgently.

“Uh, fish tacos?”

“Fish tacos” Max said into the phone, regretting his decision almost as soon as he said it.

“Max, you don’t like fish!” his mom said.

“Well, they make them with . . .”

“Halibut” Alf whispered quickly into his ear.

“. . . Halibut . . . and, uh, I tried some and it’s actually, uh, pretty good.”

“I always figured your not liking fish was mostly for show” his mother said in her most patronizing, motherly tone. “Well, say hi to Dionne for me, and don’t get back too late.”

“Okay, bye Mom” Max finished.

“Bye Sweetie” his mom replied before hanging up.

Max smacked his forehead with his hand, feeling slightly queasy. He hadn’t meant to lie so much—or so badly. He smiled weakly at Alf.

“Well, that’s taken care of. Fish tacos? Really? You eat that stuff?”

“Sorry Max—it’s what we had last night. It was the only thing I could think of.”

--from Max and Merlin

Juicy Lucy

An Exerpt from Juicy Lucy and the New Bed, about a sprited kindergartener:

“MOOOOOM!” I called very loud. “I think that piggy boy Liam stole my new pink nail-polish and so could you please call him and tell him to bring it back?”

“Nobody stole anything Lucy” she told me. “I just put it in an extra special place so that you can save it for special occasions.” Which means “don’t paint nail polish on the mirror or the table or your new bed.” Which she didn’t even need to tell me because only four-year-olds do that stuff, and now I am five. And also I luckily know that the special place is on the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet, so if there is a special occasion coming up I will be able to find it without any help.

Favorite First Lines

Not long ago, Nathan Bransford had an opening sentence competition. With good reason. The opening sentence is the set-up for your entire book. A poor one will ensure that nobody ever gets to sentence #2. A good opening sentence will motivate people to buy your book--it's like money in the bank.

I've been toiling over the opening sentence for Max and Merlin for some time now. Although I have a pretty good one, I'm not sure it rises to the level of "great." Today I'm going to post a few of my favorite book openings--please share some of your own in the comments section if you like.

"Marley was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that." --Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

"All happy families are alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." --Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

"All children, except one, grow up." --J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

"When Mary Lennox was sent to Miselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle, everybody agreed that she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen." --Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden