Building Houses is almost at 50,000 words

....

That is all.

Teaser

BUILDING HOUSES teaser. It's almost at 50k now. :D This is from the end of chapter sixteen. Jaycee and her neighbor Janna are sitting under a tree, discussing spying. This project is my most major project, and according to Microsoft Word I started it in August and have since spent 15,753 minutes working on the document. Five months, folks. Five months. So enjoy an excerpt from the end of chapter sixteen.

***

“You need to work on your investigation skills,” Janna started. Her tone was sharp and hard, but she didn’t sound too angry. Just frustrated. “I went to an event at the bookstore one time and they talked about being a good spy. You have to stay focused, alert, and interrogate the person so they give you as much information as you need. Ask questions. Keep pushing them and make sure you get everything. Every little bit of information counts.”

I snorted. Where had she gotten that? From one of those cheesy “how to be a spy” books? Mom and I visited the bookstore sometimes, usually so she could grab the latest romance novel or blockbuster spy book for Dad. Every time we went, there always seemed to be an endcap displayed prominently in the children’s section advertising “how to be a spy” books and kits.  I remembered seeing a few “how to be a spy” classes advertised too, at least once a month. The books were brightly colored and filled with easy puzzles to crack and flimsy spy glasses that broke. Mostly they were filled with lame, crappy stuff. Things that kids would do to spy, like hide behind tables and decode their parent’s phone conversations and receipts. Nothing that anyone professional, like the CIA or secret agents in the FBI, did.

“Most of those books aren’t reliable,” I said. “Besides, none of the stuff in those books is anything professional spies do.”

“How are they not reliable?”

                        

“It’s mostly lame stuff. Like hiding behind tables and decoding phone calls.” I rolled my eyes to punctuate the point. Janna stared at me. Her lower lip hung out in dismay, and from a distance she seemed much younger.

“Maybe,” she said. Her eyes crinkled, and she seemed about to cry. Oh god. All I was good at was making people cry. I leaned forward and wrapped my arm around her back.

“Come on. Let’s sit down.” I waved a hand towards the tree. The dirt seemed more inviting now. It looked cool and soft, certain to calm you. I plopped down in the dirt and gestured for Janna to sit next to me. She curled her face into a scowl, but finally sat down beside me with a loud thump.

“I don’t like it when you make fun of things I like,” Janna said.

“I know.”

We sat in silence. Janna leaned over and buried her head in my lap. My pants felt warm and comfortable as she rested her head in the crook of my legs. She sighed, content, and her eyes softened. It looked like she’d be asleep in no time.

Before she could fall asleep, I whispered into her hair, “I think we can be all done with the spying for now.”

Janna nodded, opening her mouth into a wide yawn. As her eyes closed and the yawns continued, she said, “Okay,” before falling into slumber.

Books I've Been Reading Recently, Part 2

I recently visited the Southdale Library that I hadn't visited in a long time. I moved away and haven't been to the library (which is much larger than the one in my new town) in about seven months. I eagerly devoured the selection and returned with 48(!) books. I thought I would list some of the books I have read from the pile so far, along with brief descriptions of each book and the cover. All descriptions come from http://www.goodreads.com/ or the back of the novels.

What the Moon Saw

Laura Resau, Delacorte Press 2006

Clara Luna's name means "clear moon" in Spanish. But lately, her head
has felt anything but clear. One day a letter comes from Mexico, written in Spanish: Dear Clara, We invite you to our house for the summer. We will wait for you on the day of the full moon, in June, at the Oaxaca airport. Love, your grandparents.

Fourteen-year-old Clara has never met her father's parents. She knows he snuck over the border from Mexico as a teenager, but beyond that, she knows almost nothing about his childhood. When she agrees to go, she's stunned by her grandparents' life: they live in simple shacks in the mountains of southern Mexico, where most people speak not only Spanish, but an indigenous language, Mixteco.

The village of Yucuyoo holds other surprises, too-- like the spirit waterfall, which is heard but never seen. And Pedro, an intriguing young goatherder who wants to help Clara find the waterfall. Hearing her grandmother’s adventurous tales of growing up as a healer awakens Clara to the magic in Yucuyoo, and in her own soul. What The Moon Saw is an enchanting story of discovering your true self in the most unexpected place.

The Queen of Water

Laura Resau, Delacorte Press 2011

Born in an Andean village in Ecuador, Virginia lives with her large family in a small, earthen-walled dwelling. In her village of indígenas, it is not uncommon to work in the fields all day, even as a child, or to be called a longa tonta—stupid Indian—by members of the ruling class of mestizos, or Spanish descendants. When seven-year-old Virginia is taken from her village to be a servant to a mestizo couple, she has no idea what the future holds.
In this poignant novel based on a true story, acclaimed author Laura Resau has collaborated with María Virginia Farinango to recount one girl's unforgettable journey to self-discovery. Virginia's story will speak to anyone who has ever struggled to find his or her place in the world. It will make you laugh and cry, and ultimately, it will fill you with hope.

Teenie

Christopher Grant, Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2010

High school freshman Martine (Teenie for short) is a good student, with a bright future ahead of her. She's desperate to be accepted into a prestigious study abroad program in Spain so that she can see what life is like beyond the streets of Brooklyn. She wouldn't mind escaping from her strict (though lovable) parents for awhile either. But when the captain of the basketball team starts to pay attention to her after she's pined away for him for months and Cherise, her best friend, meets a guy online, Teenie's mind is on anything but her schoolwork. Teenie's longtime crush isn't what he seemed to be, nor is her best friend's online love. Can Teenie get her act together in time to save her friendship with Cherise, save her grade point average so that she can study in Spain, and save herself from a potentially dangerous relationship?

Christopher Grant makes a stunning literary debut with this warmly told story about friends, family, and finding oneself.

                                                 So Shelly

Ty Roth, Delacorte Press, 2011

Until now, high school junior, John Keats, has only tiptoed near the edges of the vortex that is schoolmate and literary prodigy, Gordon Byron. That is, until their mutual friend, Shelly, drowns in a sailing accident.

After stealing Shelly's ashes from her wake at Trinity Catholic High School, the boys set a course for the small Lake Erie island where Shelly's body had washed ashore and to where she wished to be returned. It would be one last "so Shelly" romantic quest. At least that's what they think. As they navigate around the obstacles and resist temptations during their odyssey, Keats and Gordon glue together the shattered pieces of Shelly's and their own pasts while attempting to make sense of her tragic and premature end.

I Know It's Over

C.K Kelly Martin, Random House Books for Young Readers, 2008

PURE. UNPLANNED. PERFECT. Those were Nick’s summer plans before Sasha stepped into the picture. With the collateral damage from his parents’ divorce still settling and Dani (his girl of the moment) up for nearly anything, complications are the last thing he needs. All that changes, though, when Nick runs into Sasha at the beach in July. Suddenly he’s neck-deep in a relationship and surprised to find he doesn’t mind in the least. But Nick’s world shifts again when Sasha breaks up with him. Then, weeks later, while Nick’s still reeling from the breakup, she turns up at his doorstep and tells him she’s pregnant. Nick finds himself struggling once more to understand the girl he can’t stop caring for, the girl who insists that it’s still over.

I'm still keeping away busily at my stack. All of the above titles are from Random House Books for Young Readers, with Knopf and Delacorte being imprints of the division. I will post reviews for the titles as soon as I can.

 

Red Glass by Laura Resau

ONE NIGHT SOPHIE and her parents are called to a hospital where Pedro, 6-year-old Mexican boy, is recovering from dehydration. Crossing the border into Arizona with a group of Mexicans and a coyote, or guide, Pedro and his parents faced such harsh conditions that the boy is the only survivor. Pedro comes to live with Sophie, her parents, and Sophie's Aunt Dika, a refugee of the war in Bosnia. Sophie loves Pedro - her Principito, or Little Prince. But after a year, Pedro's surviving family in Mexico makes contact, and Sophie, Dika, Dika's new boyfriend, and his son must travel with Pedro to his hometown so that he can make a heartwrenching decision .

I....I don't know how to adequetly express how I feel about this book. It's amazing and fantastic and so impressive. Laura Resau certainly has made me enjoy her novels, and I have read the majority of them. But I read Red Glass last. I had liked the sweeping, isolated mountain setting of an indengenious culture in What the Moon Saw ; the racially-divided Ecuador of The Queen of Water; and the globe-hopping scenes of the Notebook series (Mexico in The Indigo Notebook and France in The Ruby Notebook . But Red Glass, with its fantastic characters, lovingly crafted plot, and character arcs, and the setting of small villages in Mexico and towns in Guetamala, captivated me the most.

The story is about Sophie, a sixteen year old girl who's afraid of everything, from her mother and stepfather being murdered to being robbed by strange figures on the train and germs found in resturants. She lives with her parents and her eccentric great-aunt Dika, a refugee from Bosnia. She constantly is afraid, getting upset if her parents are minutes late or if someone sneezes. One night, they get a late-night phone call from the Border Patrol. Seven illegal immigrants, crossing the desert from Mexico to Tuscon, New Mexico, have been found dead. One young boy no older than six or seven survived, with Sophie's stepfather's buisness card in his pocket. No one knows who the boy is, and so the Border Patrol asks Sophie's family to foster the boy, named Pedro. Sophie quickly nicknames him Principito, or "Little Prince."

But a year passes, and Pedro remains stoic. No one can get him to engage in activities, get happy or excited. He behaves, but won't interact. All he wants to do is sleep with the chickens outside, no matter how many beds and mattresses they try to find him. After a while, Sophie's parents manage to contact Pedro's remaining family in a village in Mexico. Pedro's family decides that Sophie, Dika, Dika's boyfriend Mr. Lorenzo, and Lorenzo's son Angel will go visit Pedro's old village and see if that helps. Sophie is afraid of the dangers of Mexico -- corrupt cops, dangerous food, drug dealers -- but agrees to go for her Principito.

Golly, the characters are amazing. Resau fleshed them all out, with backstories and realistic dialogue, actions, and arcs. Dika is a refugee from Bosnia escaping civil war; Mr. Lorenzo and Angel are illegal immigrants in search of jewels; and Pedro is a small boy who spent days crossing a treacherous desert. The character arcs are fantastic. Sophie truly changes, first in subtle ways, and then in larger ways that echo loudly and don't make it seem like Resau was just trying to show over and over again that yes, yes, Sophie had changed . All of the characters are strong and impressive and amazing. Dika completely breaks the boundaries of "old fat grandma"; Angel is a sweet, caring boy that makes a fantastic love interest; and Mr. Lorenzo is a sweet man straddled between two cultures.

The setting is also fantastic. Resau vividly describes markets and streets and smells and foods with the eye of someone who's been there, seen that (she's a travel writer and English as a Second Language -- primiarily with Mexican students -- teacher). Everything is vivid in your mind, and you can truly tell that Resau took time to learn the language, took time to learn the people and culture.

And now the writing. Oh my god, the writing. Resau's words flow off the page, flowery and beautiful without being dramatic. The writing is goregous and sweet and still sounds like Sophie's voice, a teenage girl in two cultures and hiding from everything. I paused and reread every sentence, reading it for the cadence, the beauty. It was more than just a sentence or a predicate -- it was a beauty. Resau's a fantastic writer in all her books, and she's been very well critically accliamed with plenty of starred reviews. But Red Glass took my breath away.

The plot isn't predictable, with both funny (Sophie gets hit on by a drunk cop at a picnic) and heartwarming (Pablo seeing his grandmother again). You truly care for all the characters, and hope and wonder they're doing okay. The climax grabs your heartstrings in the end, but you understand the decisions and character motives with what happens in the climax. Resau has crafted a brilliant, rich plot, and managed to even tie Saint-Expery and The Little Prince into the novel's six parts.

I highly recommend this novel and the rest of Resau's books. They have fantastic writing and immerse you in cultures you never knew. A great read that will appeal to contemporary fans, romance fans, those who want to be immersed in another world, and people interested in cultures and geography. Highly recommended.

Five stars.

Zero by Tom Leeven

 For aspiring artist Amanda Walsh, who only half-jokingly goes by the nickname Zero, the summer before college was supposed to be fun—plain and simple. Hanging out with her best friend Jenn, going to clubs, painting, and counting down the days until her escape. But when must-have scholarship money doesn't materialize, and she has a falling out with Jenn that can only be described as majorly awkward, and Zero's parents relationship goes from tense to relentless fighting, her prospects start looking as bleak and surreal as a painting by her idol Salvador Dali. Will life truly imitate art? Will her new, unexpected relationship with a punk skater boy who seems too good to be real and support from the unlikeliest of sources show Zero that she's so much more than a name.

I'm not much of an artist myself. I like art, and the yearly trips to the musems in elementary school didn't bother me much, but I haven't been much of an artiste. I left that to my sister.

So I found this ARC on NetGalley. I had read Tom Leeven's first book Party about a year ago. Both books dealt with the artisty, gritty scene of Los Angeles and the surrounding area. And what did I think?

I'm still unsure, and I finished this book three days ago. But I guess if I had to rate it, say how I felt in more cohesive terms, well, I'd say it was okay.

Party is the story of Amanda. She just graduated from high school, and plans to go into a career as an artist. She's got everything down pat, is ready to go to SAIC, the art college of her dreams. And then her scholarship money -- the only thing getting her to the expensive college -- falls through, and she falls into a whirlwind.

Her parents are fighting constantly and on the rocks of divorce; she has a horrible relationship with her best friend; and she has no idea what to do in the fall. To keep her busy, Amanda's parents make her enroll in community college to take a few art courses and she decides to attend some late-night concerts to feel connected to the "art scene".

I never really connected with Amanda. She has a strong voice which I'll mention later, and sounds like a teenage girl, but she seems disconnected. I symapthized with her, but it was hard at times to read the narrative since it was disconnected. She was so disconnected from the reader, in both grief and anger, that it was hard to read.

I did like her voice, though. She sounded like a raw, gritty teenage girl living, essentially, on the edge of her world.

I do think that Leeven populated his story with some cliches. The angry, on-the-brink parents; the girl seperated from her best friend due to a secret that I found easy to guess; and the girl redempted by love. It didn't affect the story a ton, but at times it seemed painfully obvious like he was running through a checklist:

1. Artsy girl with a secret.
2. Meets boy, fall in love.
3. She discovers big secret that shatters her world...

The climax was...okay. The major secret was revealed, a few "ohmygod" scenes occured where Amanda freaked out, but the majority of the climax was a chapter in a half. By the next chapter Amanda had realized oh, everything's going to be okay, without any reason why she had changed so quickly. She simply woke up, saw the self-portrait she had done, and then realized that everything was fine.

It was an interesting look into the art scene, how everything is so free. I learned some, I guess, considering I'm not in that crowd at all.

I would recommend it more to "artsy" people and those who might be interested in a more "angsty" narrative. A solid read.

Three stars.

Teaser, Teaser, Teaser

Another teaser. This one is also from CHASING GRAVITY...which I already renamed. It is now called SURVEYING THE WORLD.

Start of 2nd chapter.

---

The shows on TV at five thirty in the morning suck, but there’s no way I’m going back to bed. My legs cross tighter and I lean closer to the TV. On the screen is some old-fashioned war movie. A man crouches behind a rock, raising his gun to shoot.

War movies aren’t something I usually watch, but they’re better than the craptastic kids’ shows on in the morning.

I pause, close my eyes. The darkness is inviting. Calming.

Here we go.

Now or never – that sounds horrible.

My hands slip onto the phone. I squeeze hard against the ON button, willing with all my power. The phone buzzes. Beeps. A loud noise comes from the speakers and then the screen turns on. My desktop is a picture of the beach, palm trees swaying.

I scroll down to my contacts. Her name is at the bottom. The bottom is where the horrible people go. The ones you never want to contact, always want to avoid, erasing their phone numbers and street addresses and all their personal information from your mind. She certainly fits in that group. I find her name. It’s long.

She’d always complain about spelling it.

My finger pushes hard.

A new screen appears. She stares down at me in a self-portrait. James sent the photo to me in an email, enclosed the picture with lots of smiley faces and gigantic blue exclamation marks that were so bright they made me dizzy. In the picture, her hair is curled in fuzzy, her fingers are extended in a peace sign. I click the cell phone button.

Texting won’t work now.

I want to see what she thinks, how she responds when I ask. Because she sure as hell isn’t going to like the question.

The phone beeps.

I hate the waiting. Can’t the people just respond faster? My heart pounds. She might not answer. She might hang up in anger or sadness. She might make James come on the line and talk for her. She might not even be awake.  So many maybes, too many whys.

The phone beeps again.

One, two, three, four times.

I’m about to give up. She doesn’t care, she just…

She answers on the sixth ring. The last ring my phone makes before it gives up.

“I’m busy,” she snaps.

“You can’t be busy, Noel, if you’re talking to me,” I snap back. She wants to be snappish? Fine. I’ll be snappish too.

Teaser

I haven't posted in a while. But I figure a good way to get started is to post a teaser. This is from a new novel,

CHASING GRAVITY

This is the middle of the first chapter.

-----

The wind blows in my eyes as I lean out the window. Usually I would say something stupid about the fact that the wind is in my eyes – complain about it, or say something  lame like “what a fucking good day”, letting the swear roll off my tongue. But not today.

Bianca leans forward in her seat. She insisted on shotgun as always. As I drive, she pages through laminated maps of far-off places. “Do you think he’ll be there?”

“I hope so.” Otherwise this will all be a waste, and so will the $18.73 I spent on gas money.

She leans over, squeezes my hand. I love the feeling I get when she does that: pure exhilaration. “We’ll bring him and Noel home,” Bianca promises. Her feet slide up onto the window. I shoot her a look – scratched windows aren’t in my foreseeable future – and she slides them back down with an annoyed smile.

Noel. Oh frick, Noel. My hands ball into fists at the mention of her name. Fucking goddamn Noel Elaine McCartney. The one who rose my brother in the air and sent him crashing down just as fast, the one who made him smile and laugh and sob. The one who tore him apart.

“Whoa, boy, calm down.” Bianca laughs, but she sounds afraid.

I pound the wheel as we reach a stoplight. “Stupid fucking girl.”

Bianca sighs. “Listen, this’ll be over soon, right? We’ll get Noel and James and bring them home. Then it’s over.”

No it isn’t. Breakups are horrible – every TV show, movie, and miniseries will show you that. They’ll show you the tears and the anger and the fights.        And coming back to your exes is always worse. They never meet your eye, always turn their back to you, and awkwardness reigns. James shouldn’t have to go through that.

“Do you think they went out to eat?” I ask, changing the subject for the sake of my sanity. “They left early enough to need to eat lunch now. James likes Burger King. Noel likes Arby’s.” It’s weird that I know so much about my brother’s girlfriend, down to her favorite fast food restaurant, but I guess it can be expected. Noel used to always run around our house, screaming about her favorite colors (purple and black) and where she liked to eat and blabbing every detail about her the second that someone asked.

“There’s an Arby’s in the town, and a Burger King too. They’re pretty close to each other.” Bianca’s put the laminated maps away, replaced them with her phone. On the screen a virtual map of Hinton is displayed.

I wheel the car into the city limits. At least the limits that the map tells us is Hinton, South Carolina. There’s no sign. No recognition that this town is nothing more than forest. The only proof to show that there’s a town is a wooden board shoved in the ground. It’s falling over, the board tilting to the side at a ninety-degree angle.

My hands start to fall down the wheel, and I quickly slide them back up. A car crash would make this adventure much worse.

My eyes stay focused on the sign.

One letter is etched across the top. The letter is faded, looking like someone wrote it in a pencil. A big H.

H for Hinton. H for a city of a thousand people, H for home and heart and H for hope. And the one that sticks in my mind:

H for hate.

H for the hate I feel for Noel McCartney.

***

“It says to go straight for three miles,” Bianca says. She’s driving now, hands drumming against the wheel. I didn’t want to switch, but she insisted. Not by logic or force but by her own Bianca-method: shoving me off the seat, climbing over me, and sliding into the driver’s seat. Somehow she can drive and look at the phone at the same time. Dangerous but she does it. “There should be a place called the General Store on the right.”

She’s not talking to me anymore; she’s looking down, eyes on the screen.

Bianca drives. Straight. Driver’s ed tactics fly through my head as I look at her. Eyes on the road, hands on the wheel, look at the gas periodically, stay steady…all the rules they gave and all the rules she’s ignoring.

Soon enough, the road flattens out and becomes a town. Houses appear periodically, shadowed and hidden behind pines. A few buildings appear – Bill’s Bait & Tackle, Hamilton’s Family Restaurant, A, L& F Taxes, the Boutique – but no General Store. Bianca wields the car around a corner and there it is.

The General Store.

The place where my brother and his girlfriend supposedly are.

The car glides easily into the parking lot. Bianca pushes hard on the brakes as she approaches. I can see her eyes searching the lot, trying to determine the best spot to park. My eyes squint as I look at the building. The General Store is a barn, really. A barn not much bigger than my garage. A brown barn with a thatched roof and wide windows. There’s a wide counter attached to the front of the barn advertising sales.

FIFTY PERCENT OFF LIVE BAIT.

CALL ED IF YOU NEED HELP

A phone number is written below Ed’s name, but the paint has faded. All that remains is a sickly yellow smudge.

“Live bait?” Bianca lets out a snicker.

I shrug. “Everybody needs it.”

She snorts again and flips her hair over her shoulders. “Apparently up here they do.” Bianca slides into the lot and powers the car off. She opens her door and I open mine.