Okay, so here’s the deal. I’ve been tugging my hair out tinkering with the dreaded query letter and giving myself an ulcer that no amount of Junior Mints could cure. So in my rare, vulnerable moments on ye ole blog in which I express that I have a soul, I’d like to say:  if I don’t get published…I will cry. Deep, heart-wrenching, sobs. Heathcliffian head-banging on tree, howling on the moors type of weeping.

For you see, unless I am high on caffeine or the prospect of watching Michael Fassbender’s Shame on a High Definition big screen TV, I am a reticent girl in person. But if I am doing my job right, my novel and query letter will have an authorial voice that BOOMS. Much like how I like to type in ALL CAPs here.

Oh dear. I am having a melodramatic freak-out in which only a picture of Michael Fassbender’s abs could cure.

In the interim, I’ve finished the 4th draft of my novel and am editing the hell out of it.  It has everything I love in a book: sex, lies, ghosts, atmospheric fog, haunted houses, knives, dark family secrets, love four squares (which is more salacious than your run of the mill Love Triangle), people slapping people in the face, and cat fights.  Prepare to learn NOTHING and be scandalized. My novel has the nutritional value of a bag of cheese doodles. I intend to make you fat. Optimistically speaking, I hope to query by mid-Jan to late Feb.

In other squeal-able news: you are aware that I have this unhealthy, stalkerish obsession for Christopher Pike, right? This morning, I woke up to a comment by the elusive Pike himself! I was skeptical at first, but after a thorough cross-examination of possible suspects who could be effing with me, I’ve concluded that the comment could be authentic. And then I proceeded to glitter like a Cullen. Imagine! C.Pike was on my blog. Maybe trolling through my archives? This is the stuff DREAMS are made of! Not your dreams. My dreams.

Read the comment yourself. I hope he doesn’t mind. And I really hope he hadn’t stumbled upon the post in which I compared him to The Phantom of the Opera.

T.Y. This is the real Christopher Pike. My gf caught your blog and she asked me to wish you a happy birthday because…well, I just had a birthday, on November 12th, and she thought you would be happy to hear from me on such a special day, even if I am a little late. Oh, and I’m supposed to deny being someone crazy on Amazon. I get that occasionally, where someone says they’re me. The one place I do often post is on the main Christopher Pike fan page on Facebook. That guy IS me, and you can write me there, although I often take a while to respond. But be reassured that I don’t post reviews of my books and I never attack people who dislike my novels, especially since I’m probably my own worst critic!
Yours, Christopher Pike aka Kevin McFadden
P.S. I do run. I do wear New Balance shoes.
P.S.S. Unfortunately, I don’t look like Harrison Ford. More like the Elephant Man. Sorry.

Stop being humble Christopher Pike! If by ‘Elephant Man,’ you mean THIS:

And this new Hunger Games poster!

Am dropping in to tell you that I am …almost, almost done with my WIP. Then I can read and blog without guilt. But for now, nose! Back to grindstone.

I lower my head. I am not going to make it. Sweet Valley crippled me. I read A Shore Thing…and sort of liked it.  That was in early July. Being too lazy to write up a post, I have completely forgotten why it was horrible. And so I look to my notes, except they no longer make sense. All I have scribbled is “Don’t eat me, bitch.” What does this mean? I have no clue. It is the great existential mystery of Horrible Dare 2011.

As per Raych’s guidelines, she who loses HDC must announce to one and all:

I AM NOT OF TOUGHER STUFF! 

There. I said it. Whereas I spent HDC ’09 + ’10 grow a pair of reading balls, consider me castrated.

Raych read all 3 of my picks. Even A Very Virile Viking. She deserves to be called “A Very Virile Reader.”

Sweet

The things I do for Horrible Dare…

Reading SV Confidential is like watching a reunion show of a popular TV sitcom—kind of like The Brady Bunch Reunion/Christmas Special and I do not mean that as a compliment. I prefer the Sweet Valley Gang frozen in a pastel colored ‘80’s time warp, much like the old cover art.

But alas, ten years later… Jessica and Elizabeth are now 27 and living on opposite sides of the continent. A tale of two Wakefields! A mysterious and scandalous happenstance has ripped apart the inseparable sisters and you are left in the dark as to what. By the time you find out, you don’t really care because said happenstance isn’t very mysterious or scandalous, just…confusing.

Liz left Sweet Valley for a struggling journalist existence in New York all because she hates Jess with a passion. In the interim, Liz is having tear-inducing orgasms (Oh Liz! You hussy!) with men who are not Todd. If you recall from their high school days, Todd + Liz FOREVER…that is, until Todd’s drunken hook-up with Jess during their university days led to true love. Jess and Todd? Really? My disbelief is dangling by a thread…

Speaking of unbelievable character transformations, this entire story felt like all of Sweet Valley entered the Twilight Zone and met with Sex and the City on the way.  Jess and Todd plotting Winston Egbert’s murder.  Sensitive Bruce Patman. Diabolical Liz. The Wakefield parents dropping F-bombs in a retirement home, which produced only one quotable line “Bring out the fucking cakes!” Who ARE you people?

I’m especially hard pressed to believe 1Bruce1 and Liz are best friends. Apparently, I suspect Francine P. knew this new relationship would be hard to swallow because she felt the need to REMIND YOU in every third sentence on every page that Liz and Bruce are best friends. Sigh. Lather, rinse, repeat with the Jess and Todd pairing. The whole idea is almost as gag-me-with-a-spoon horrible as the purple prose used when Liz and Bruce makes loooovveee. And in the whole scheme of underwear assignments, I’ve always assumed Liz was a granny panty type of girl. Liz in a thong? Naughty, Francine, very naughty.

Whereas the Sweet Valley characters had their appeal, they are now officially reprehensible and I am officially 1/3 done with Horrible Dare. Stick a fork in me, Raych…no, really, I’d much rather you jab me with a sharp eating utensil because that would be much kinder than this challenge.

Horrible Dare 2011 by LitCon on Polyvore.com

Summer is a time to torture your friends with reprehensible literature. And there’s no one I’d rather torture more than Raych of Books I Done Read. Dear Raych, just knowing that you will be more or less miserable in the foreseeable future brings me such joy that I can’t seem to keep my sinister cackle at bay.

Without further ado, I present My Horrible Five:

Your mission, which you MUST accept or risk the ridicule of book blogger’s everywhere, is to read 3/5 books by summer’s end.

1. Sweet Valley Confidential: Ten Years Later by Francine Pascal We must ring in Horrible Dare Round 3 with the series that inspired the first Horrible Dare!

2. Justin Bieber: First Step 2 Forever  Baby, baby, baaaby OOHHHH. Are you a Bieliber? You will be…

3. Elixir by Hilary Duff Because Horrible Dare targets celebrity-penned YA novels like I target your happiness.

4. Palo Alto by James Franco  Most people love James Franco. I am not one of them. Multifaceted artists, as he is billed on the cover flap, makes me extremely jealous and slightly bitter… and a little depressed that I am only an artist of one facet. He’s published a book of dark, soul-searching short stories–my personal idea of reading hell, but you’ve read Down At the Sunless Sea so you’re already a pro!

5. A Very Virile Viking by Sandra Hill   I can’t confirm that this one is horrible. It might be fantastic. Also, I secretly plan to read it just because it has the best title EVER. All I want in life…is for you to check out a book with an embarrassing cover and for your library staff to misplace your copy and broadcast “We need a shelf check on A Very Virile Viking!” or perhaps make you repeat the title several times (this happened to me with Tempt Me At Twilight) so everyone standing in the check-out line will gape and snicker.

And…like herpes…Horrible Dare is the gift that keeps on giving! Y’all are welcomed to join!

As a parting gift, behold! A new HDC button!

Horrible Dare 2011 by LitCon on Polyvore.com

This whole Hunger Games movie brings about so much nail-biting anxiety, especially in lieu of ‘The Great Twilight Debacle.” Because I love The Hunger Games so freaking much, I will be devastated, no, inconsolable, if the movies descends into a Michael Bay meets Twilight CGI noise-fest. In short, I’d like to impart a few words to Hollywood: Please don’t F**k this up!

KATNISS: Any actress cast in this role is sure to receive criticism. After all, these are large hunter boots to fill…Jennifer Lawrence has Oscar creds, I’m actually rather relieved she’s going to play my favorite YA heroine, though I speak from Oscar awe and not from having seen Winter’s Bone. My first choice (highly improbable due to age) was Summer Galu the Terminator girl: so perfect for the role but alas, we’re about five years too late. So Jennifer Lawrence, huh? I’m trying to imagine her sooty-faced and shooting arrows into people’s asses and you know what? I could totally see it! Give the girl a bottle of hair dye and some archery lessons and let’s see if she can incite a revolution. Plus, she’s got Suzanne Collins’ personal approval but the verdict is still out until I’ve seen Winter’s Bone.

Katniss by LitCon on Polyvore.com

PEETA: My first reaction upon hearing that Josh Hutcherson was going to play the baker boy was “Who the heck is Josh Hutcherson?” followed by “This dude has Batman’s (of the Animated series) jaw! So strong, so square!” Plus, the pictures of him sporting a fohawk was not helping his cause. An IMDB search revealed Josh H. as the somber, doe-eyed kid in 2007′s Bridge to Teribithia movie… Ah. What a relief! There was a lot of soulful ‘staring-off-into-the-distance as I contemplate my mortality’ scenes in Bridge to Teribithia, which Josh H. OWNED and he was all of twelve years old. I hoped he’s brushed up on his meaningful stares because Peeta waxes philosophic ALL THE TIME. Remember “Real vs. Not Real?” in Mockingjay? Or the “Let us stand on the rooftop and gaze upon the city while we decide how we should die with dignity” scene in Hunger Games? This square jawed, chin-dimpled boy has my seal of approval! As for the hair, I’m sure the stylist who bleached Tom Felton’s hair in the Harry Potter movies will welcome the commission…

Peeta by LitCon on Polyvore.com

GALE: Liam Hemsworth?!!!!  As in the Captain America look-a-like who romanced Miley Cyrus with BABY SEA TURTLES in The Last Song?!!! Oh God… OH MAN! Oh GOD! OH MAN! Let me take a moment to drop to my knees and howl: NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! As you can see, I was not pleased with the casting. Up until the end of Mockingjay, I was waving the Team Gale banner to victory. I knew it was a lost cause but guys, Gale… Hunter. Adonis. Henry Cavill in the movie of my mind! Perhaps I’m being unfair to Liam and yet, the taint of that sacchrine Nicholas Sparks movie coupled with being Miley Cyprus’ off screen arm candy is hard to shake.

Gale by LitCon on Polyvore.com

SQUEAL!!!!!!  The Wallflower series! This post is a little premature since I am still on waitlist for Scandal in the Spring, but dudes! I cannot get these books out of my mind. Here’s the whirlwind set-up: sick of being snubbed by all the eligible bachelors in upper-crusty Victorian England, four young women band together to help each other catch husbands. Each heroine has a social defect (too poor, too American, too shy) which has previously branded her undesirable in the marriage game until she finds the right man.

For the week, I have been in bliss! So much so that I’ve made collages of my two favorite books in the series (The Devil in Winter and It Happened One Autumn). While I liked Secrets of a Summer’s Night, I didn’t love it enough to make a collage and you should know by now that a collage from me means business! Fair warning, the following will probably make sense for those who have read the books. I will now commence with my fangirl rambling…

The best thing about IT HAPPENED ONE AUTUMN (pictured below) is the hero/heroine mash up. The key to good romance is all the pairing and the best pairings are always between polar opposites. Lillian Bowman is a brazen American soap heiress who can cuss like a sailor and ride like a man while Marcus, Lord Westcliff is the most proper gentleman in all of England and he WILL look down his aristocratic nose at YOU. In fact, his is exactly like Mr. Darcy right down to the “My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” This book IS Pride and Prejudice except with sexy times in secret gardens and abductions involving handcuffs and very proper British men fighting, which in it self is hilarious! Think Hugh Grant and Colin Firth’s fight in Bridget Jone’s Diary…yeah, it’s that kind of fighting.

And because Lord Westcliff reminded me so much of Colin Firth, who is, in my opinion, the perfect British gentleman, I’ve put him in my collage

It Happened One Autumn by LitCon on Polyvore.com

Next up THE DEVIL IN WINTER. This book skyrocketed to one of my top romance picks in such a short time. Sebastian St. Vincent (the villain from It Happened One Autumn) is the most beautiful man in England. In today’s terms, he is a notorious man whore until he is brought to his knees and redeemed by the shyest wallflower: stuttering Evangeline Jenner. Theirs is a marriage of convenience (he is an impoverished aristocrat in need of money, she is an heiress in need of a husband’s protection from her abusive guardians). So yes, I’ve seen this match-up a million times. It’s been done. And yet, so much of Romance depend on the telling and in this case, it was told exquisitely. There’s so much to love about this book, but if I had to choose, I’d say what really got me was St. Vincent’s character transformation from a callow rake to a man of substance. He pretends not to care for Evie and she’s all “You’re not the villain you pretend to be” while he insists “Yes I am!” but then secretly wears her wedding ring around his neck. Ohhh!!!! This reminds me of The English Patient in which Ralph Fiennes is carrying Kristen Scott Thomas’ battered body to their secret cave and he discovers that thimble around her neck and he’s all *Sniff sniff* “You’re wearing my thimble” and she’s all *in proper British accent* “I’ve always worn your timble. I’VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU…” And Ralph Fiennes descends into wrenching man sobs, which I think is utterly HEARTBREAKING but my boyfriend thinks is a shameless bid for an Oscar nod. But you know what? I like to see men cry!!!! Bravo Ralph Fiennes! Bravo! Oh, I am such a sucker when it comes to reading about these indirect displays of affection. P.S. Redemption is my favorite word. During the reading, I pictured Rupert Friend as St. Vincent, who is described as a feral tomcat. The picture of Rupert Friend with his hair blowing in the wind is definitely…feral.

P.S. I wish we could play in real life. We could spend the afternoon acting out scenes from The English Patient. One more for the road. Me as Kristen Scott Thomas. Imagine that I still look good after a fatal plane crash: “Promise you’ll come back for me. PROMISE…” And you could be Ralph Fiennes. You’ll look at me with your signature piercing stare and say “I promise…”  I’ll die and you’ll carry me into your plane. Then we’ll get shot down by Nazi gunners TOGETHER and I’ll perish in the flames and you’ll have your beautiful face INCINERATED and look like Voldermort for the rest of the movie. Fortunately, The Devil in Winter has a much happier ending. Nobody’s face gets burned off.

The Devil In Winter by LitCon featuring prom ball gowns

God, I love romance novels. There was a time in say, middle school, when I was not so proud of my romance novel reading habits but now I have fully embraced my love of the genre. A monthly dose of sexy times does a body good! Lately I just discovered a new favorite author (Lisa Kleypas via The Booksmugglers) and after polishing off Devil in Winter and Sugar Daddy, I’ve morphed into a fangirl and placed three more of her titles on hold. I’ve read the reformed rake + virginal heiress story a million times so you’d think I’ve seen it all, but damn it if it does get me every time. Sigh… Oh dudes! I am a swooner. I really do put the book down, roll my eyes back, and SWOON. I also fan myself because SOB…so romantic!

Speaking of Romantic: this trailer for The Princess of Montpensier is freaking me out in all kinds of good ways. Let me just highlight and ALL CAPS a few key words: GASPARD ULLIEL + PUFFY WHITE SHIRT + SWASHBUCKLING ROMANCE NOVEL PLOT.

Change of topic… So I discovered there’s a Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert floating around on DVD somewhere and freaked-the-eff-out! To fully understand the freak out, here’s some background information on my Les Mis obsession. ‘Twas my senior year of college and like any undergrad pursuing what would eventually become a useless liberal arts degree, I was prowling my local library shelf in search of an answer to or a distraction from my future. My browsing fingers tripped upon a VHS of the 10th Anniversary Concert of Les Miserables, which blew my mind upon the first viewing so much so that I immediately rewind and watched it again. And again…until I could bellow “On My Own” in the shower. Then came the soundtrack (in English and French) which I played on a continuous loop between bouts of Wicked. I give ‘obsession’ a new name. Anyway, this is all to say: a new Les Mis concert! But alas, I squandered away an hour of my precious writing time watching clips of it on YouTube and was aghast to discover a Jonas Brother as Marius, who in turn, BUTCHERED “A Little Fall of Rain” and left me spewing vile words that cannot be repeated here.

Back to puffy shirts: my beloved boyfriend created a Jamie Fraser avatar on his XBOX just for me! Since there were no kilts in this virtual wardrobe, we dressed him in a puffy pirate shirt and black tights and pretended this is Jamie disguised as a Musketeer.