Whoa, it's been how long?

This is my super-de-dooper mutt. Isn't she beeyoutiful?

Wow. I was just reading my writing buddy's blog when I saw where she gave me an award, and I clicked the link...and realized I haven't blogged since October. Which means I missed two whole months. And gained three followers. Dude...that's cool. The followers part, not the non-blogging part.

But a lot of stuff has happened in my life, and I've been super busy. I think we all get super busy at certain times. The past few months have flown by, and I've actually been writing again. One of my writing goals is to query a new project by the end of February. Why? Because the last thing I queried was Feb. a year ago. And it still has at least one full out there, so, I need to write the synop and query a few other agents for it. But in the meantime, I've a great ghost story going, which I adore, and am still plugging away on the mountain mani I started a few months ago. Plus, there's the pregnancy mani and the murder mystery. Oh yeah, my first book, which went to only eight agents (I figured it really sucked and needed fixing) which I'm re-writing as a MG.

That's a lot of WIPs. So, my betas who have ME...get me some pages, women! And those two beta projects I have, well, I am working on them. Had a family thing come up and am out of town. Plus, there's the birthday party for the Hubmeister coming up in less than a week. Why am I writing this disjointed post? I need to see in black and white (okay, green and white) what I'm working towards. Maybe it'll hold me accountable, cause one of these days I'll have deadlines and my hobby will become a job. When I get my super-awesome agent and cool editor. And book deal. ;-)

I have a shelf full of books so I'll have to do a giveaway soon, so check back. I may actually post.

Teaser Tuesday - A LITTLE TOO LATE

It's time for Teaser Tuesday and since I haven't written anything in weeks I decided to post a scene from A Little Too Late when Lil, the MC, meets Danger-boy, aka Elijah. Elijah becomes an integral part of Lil's life. I also noticed the LI always gives the MC a nickname in what I write, just a weird fact.

Don't forget to check out yesterday's post for my book giveaway. I shamelessly want more followers and I love, love, love all you new followers. :) Even if I had to bribe you to be my friend.


I remember the first time I met him, first day of Senior year. Elation filled me as I dressed in a preppy skirt and polo shirt, cornflower blue, to bring out my eyes. Grabbing a pop-tart, I raced to my boyfriend’s car. I'd never had a guy pick me up for school, seemed like a summer of firsts for me. Sitting beside me was Adam, my boyfriend of two months. Not only the hottest guy in school, he was also popular and included me in everything he and his friends did.

Unfortunately he wasn’t the brightest guy in the world so we would have no classes together, but we would share lunch. Butterflies fluttered behind my ribs as I thought of lunch. Never before had I sat with the popular crowd, instead I sat with my friends at our own table. Sometimes I looked at the popular table with all of the smiling, pretty faces and wondered what it would feel like to belong.

I knew I would have to choose: my friends or Adam and his friends. Although I’d been going to all of the parties with Adam, I managed to find time to see my other friends during the summer when I wasn’t working. They didn’t understand my relationship with Adam, and I was never able to voice it. I just knew that he was it for me.

When we arrived at school, Adam got out of the car and grabbed his bag leaving me behind as he went to his friends who occupied a picnic table in the quad. I wrestled with my satchel that was tangled up in the seat and stumbled out of the car, catching myself on the door before I fell. Lame way to start the year. I felt as graceful as a possum.

Waddling up the sidewalk, I made a decision. I would ignore Adam and get to my first class, AP Chemistry.

As I was about to pass their table, Adam called to me. “Hey Lil, where are you going?”

I stopped and changed direction until one of his friends opened her perfectly-lined-and-lip-glossed mouth. “Come on, Adam. You know Little Miss Brain has to get to class," she sneered. "Did you think she’d continue to be a party girl once classes started?”

Heat rushed to my face. Before I could convince my tongue to tell her where to get off, I noticed him. Standing back from the group, leaning against a tree he looked dangerous. Shaggy blond hair fell in layers around his chiseled face and lips a girl would kill for smirked at me as if to say, Are you gonna let her win?

The making of a scene

I was reading through A Little Too Late, my current WIP when I came to a very physical scene and remembered how I worked out the details. I think I will always read this scene and remember the steps it took to write it, so just for you, dear reader, I will tell you all about it.

I've never been in a physical fight. Never. I would loose. Seriously, I'm a wimp. Verbal argument? I can hold my own very well, but physical? Nope. I'm a wuss and don't like pain.

There was only one time that my husband hit me, but it doesn't count. He was sleeping and in his dream was protecting himself. I just happened to be quite close to him in the bed as he slapped at the bad guy in his dream. It hurt, but didn't even leave a mark so there was nothing to give him shit over the next day. He still tells me I dreamed it. But I know the truth :) To be honest, I have wanted to hit him before but restrained myself. Just because I have an urge in anger to do something doesn't mean I actually follow through.

Which brings me to the scene I was working on. I wrote this scene and wondered if it worked, so after dinner one night I asked my husband to help me. I simply asked him to be still and I balled up my fist and swung. I wasn't going to hit him, I swear it, but he didn't know that. Geez Jenn,ever think of telling someone what you're about to do? Anyway, he grabbed my arm and kept me from hitting him. After explaining myself, we continued in the "research" and my arm was a little sore. But I figured out where a girl's punch would land and what part of the hand would hurt.

Moving on, I needed to know what would happen next. Let me back up and explain why I asked my husband for help - he was a bad boy in college and won bar fights so I knew he was almost an expert in this area. See the good things that can come from a checkered past?? Back to the scene...after we discussed what a guy who was punched by a girl might do (not that my husband ever hit a girl. Yes, I asked, I was curious, he might have been a bad boy and defended himself but never hurt a girl. Guess I need to ask if a girl ever hit him. Hmmm.) we discussed what another guy would do to stop that guy from hitting the girl back. And then practiced it..on me..big mistake...huge mistake!

My right arm was twisted behind my back and his left arm was wrapped around my throat. I yelped in pain, not bad pain but still pain. Told you I'm a wuss. And I tried to get away. If he would not have released me and would've been trying to hurt me, I wouldn't have gotten away. Time for self-defense classes. Seriously, I realized how I could be over-powered but that is beside the point I'm trying to make. Although, I must say I looked at my husband in a different light that day. I couldn't ever reconcile the man I knew to the man who got into fights. I just couldn't see it in him.

Needless to say, I have the scene and am very happy with it. I can't say the research aspect of that scene left me feeling happy, my arm hurt, for days, since it wasn't made to be twisted like that but knowing that the fictional character who not only got punched by the girl but had his arm twisted by the guy, that feeling is priceless.

Have you ever done anything not quite smart to research a scene?

YA Parents

The topic of YA parents came up recently and it got me thinking so I contemplated the parents in my works-in-progress.

What is wrong with me? I had a normal childhood, nothing to send me to therapy for twenty years. My parents are still married and were quite good, as far as parents go. But my parents I write aren't worth anything, except my first manuscript, in there they are great parents, just not human.

The parents in the other manuscripts include an abusive father, absent father, drunk father, emotionally abusive religious freak mother, certifiably crazy father, dead mom, missing mom, and absent parents (but they really aren't parents, MC just thinks they are). Not one normal parent in the group. And I only have one with an actual mom, what is with that?

I didn't set out to write parents like these. In fact in the most current WIP, the mother was wonderful, until she found out her daughter was doing something she shouldn't, and then little by little she showed her true colors, and as I got to see the MC's home life I realized how warped and covertly cruel the mom actually is. That was quite scary.

I've been told I write characters that teens can identify with. I don't know about that but I do wonder about other's fictional parents. What kind of parents do you, dearest readers, write?