A Gentle Reminder

Readers who I love, there’s a lesson in my absenteeism and it’s this: Blog Me MAYbe really takes that whole maybe thing serious. At least I do.

And that’s why I’ve been maybe not blogging every day of May though it’s the point of the entire blogfest. But, you see, I’m drowning in a sea of work and if I stopped to write a blog post I might never resurface. Or at least that’s how it feels.* So I’m going to leave you with a reminder and then run straight back into my cave to continue working until the day job forces me to cry uncle.

The purpose of this post is to remind you that we’ll be talking about Insurgent, the second book in the Diverent series, as part of the YA Book Club on May 31. That gives you nine days to read the book if you want to join. Which you should.

Also, could this be any more true? I’m currently at the “sob” stage.

*We’ll see what happens after I finish this one.

A Secret Trick For You

Oh look, it’s Tuesday. Which means, according to the blogfest’s bylaws and constitution and instruction manual, I’m supposed to tell you about myself today. Something you don’t already know, which means no talk of my grace and charm. (Ha!) Hmmm…

Call me wicked, but there’s really nothing like watching someone’s face as your practical joke plays out with them. It’s not that I like laughing at helpless people … but, yeah, in this case it’s like I love laughing at helpless people. But all in good fun, I swear.

(Oh look, none of you want to be friends anymore. I wonder why…)

Half the fun is thinking up crazy jokes, but because I love you and would never laugh at you without a very good reason, I’m going to share an easy practical joke that doesn’t take much time or effort to pull.

Here’s what you’ll need:

A loved one’s toothbrush

Anbesol

Really, this is the simplest joke ever. Squeeze a decent amount of Anbesol onto the toothbrush, rubbing it in until traces of the brownish gel disappear into the bristles. Make sure you’re in the room when you’re friend/family member/sworn enemy brushes his or her teeth…

…and then starts to freak out when their mouth goes numb.

No humans are harmed in the making of this prank. The numbness wears off pretty quickly.

So there you have it. Okay, go ahead: Tell me I’m morally corrupt. But only do that if you’ve completed the prank and didn’t laugh so hard you cried.

What’s the best practical joke you’ve played (or had played on you)? 

Teachers on Truth Serum

I have to say, Fridays have become my favorite day on the Internet. With all these Blog Me Maybe posts going up, and with instructions to blog something funny on Fridays, I’m pretty much sitting alone here smiling to myself. Which would look pretty creepy if I weren’t alone.

So here’s my contribution to the silliness that is today:

Have a great weekend everyone!

Story of Your Life

Look at me screwing up the days of the blogfest. I feel the kind of guilty I usually reserve for post-Oreo pig-outs. It’s not pretty.

Because I basically did today’s prompt yesterday, I’m going to do yesterday’s prompt today. And if that just made your head spin you’re:

A. not alone

B. seriously in need of a coffee

C. skimming this post too quickly

D. all of the above

All right, so here are the questions. Choose accordingly.

LADIES: In the story of your life, in which you are a

Strong Female Character, what makes you kickass?

GUYS: In the story of your life, in which you are an

Underdog with Potential, what makes you a hero? 

This is fiction, so have fun.

Tracey, A to Z

In case you’re just joining us, I’m participating in the Blog Me MAYbe blogfest, the slacker’s guide to blogging every day. Because it’s Tuesday, I’m supposed to tell you something about me. Naturally, I’ve stolen an idea for that. (Thanks, Katy.)

So, a little about me, from A to Z. (And, no, I did not rhyme on purpose, but I left it in there so you’d fully appreciate my dorkiness.)

A is for age: Nice try. But I’ll just direct you here if you’re curious about my age.

B is for breakfast today: Same as always: a green smoothie. Before you scrunch up your nose and squeal “Eeeew,” you should know that it’s really good. And that’s saying a lot considering I’m probably the pickiest eater I know. Here’s the recipe:

½ can coconut milk
16-18 oz. coconut water
1 cucumber (I sometimes peel them because, especially during the winter when they’re not in season, it can lend bitterness to the drink.)
1 avocado
1 lime, peeled
1 handful spinach (Don’t worry, you don’t even taste this.)
1 scoop Amazing Grass Green SuperFood
4 1/3-filled droppers of liquid stevia
10-12 ice cubes

Instructions: Place everything but the ice in a blender, keeping the liquids at the bottom for easy blending. When the mix has been blended into a liquid, add ice. Blend well and enjoy.

C is for currently craving: Considering I just explained how to make a healthy smoothie? Nachos.

D is for dinner tonight: Unfortunately, not nachos. I’ll probably have what I eat most nights: A giant salad with romaine, tomatoes, cucumber, red peppers, radishes, and artichoke hearts in a lemon juice–olive oil dressing.

E is for favorite type of exercise: Definitely crunches. I KNOW…who am I? But I’d rather do abs work than run any day of the week.

F is for an irrational fear: I think all of my fears are pretty darn rational: rats, snakes, bugs—especially cockroaches—and pretty much any other animal that’s smaller than my palm when fully grown.  

G is for gross food: Remember when I said I was the pickiest eater I know? Well that means I think ALL THE FOOD is gross. Okay, maybe not all of it, but definitely mayonnaise, eggs dipped in ketchup—actually, ketchup on anything that isn’t a burger or fries—runny eggs, stinky eggs… Oh, okay, I pretty much always think eggs are gross. What else? Calamari with tentacles, pate, processed meats, chicken nuggets, and, well, I could go on and on…

H is for hometown: A small town north of Boston that you probably haven’t heard of.*

I is for something important: The Man. He’s not half bad when you tune out the sports talk.

J is for current favorite jam: This survey has been especially food-based, so this might refer to a spread most often used on toast. But could it mean song I’m jamming to? NO ONE KNOWS! I’m going to take it as the latter since I don’t eat jam (the sugar and all that). At this moment, I’m rocking out to this, which fits a certain scene in my WIP:

K is for kids: Nope. But I do have two nieces and three nephews, who are cute beyond words and who I love even more knowing that I don’t have to change diapers, be the bad guy, or wake up early with them.

L is for current location: Massachusetts. More specifically, my office. Oh wait, did you not get that? MY BRAND SPANKIN’ NEW OFFICE. Ahem. I’m just excited.

M is for the most recent way you spent money: I just spent a boatload of cash on taxes, which means I can’t spend any money for the next five months. On the upside, our national debt has been lowered by a whopping $1,500. So that’s $1,500 down and $15,684,696,046,878.76 to go…

N is for something you need: Aside from $1,500?

O is for occupation: Health writer.

P is for pet peeve: I kind of have a lot of these, like people misusing your and you’re (cough The Man, cough cough), talking during a movie in the theater, and people on Facebook who say things like, “I can’t believe you treated me like that” so that the rest of us are wondering who and what they’re talking about.

Q is for a quote:

R is for random fact about you: I color-coordinate my closet.

S is for favorite healthy snack: Aside from raw fruits and veggies, I love sundried tomatoes, chipotle hummus kale chips, and roasted chickpeas.

T is for favorite treat: Well, I’m trying to limit my treats these days with hope that it’ll help my EM, so a treat for me is some form of carbohydrate. Before my health food kick? Definitely red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.

U is for something that makes you unique: Only me and about 1 in 100,000 people have EM, which makes me unique in a my-body-gives-me-second-degree-burns kind of way.

V is for favorite vegetable: Tomatoes (hush, about them actually being fruits). There’s nothing better than heirloom tomatoes in summer.

W is for today’s workout: Workout? Today? Um, well—Moving on to X...

X is for X-rays you’ve had: Whenever I do these surveys X seems to be just thrown in there, like Xylophone—do you play it often? Gah.

Y is for yesterday’s highlight: Hmm, considering I worked all day and then spent the night doing more work, I’d have to say the hour I read during dinner was pretty great.

Z is for your time zone: C’mon, time zone? Okay, okay. I’m on the East Coast. But I petition survey creators of the future to come up with something else for these end-of-alphabet letters.

Fill in some tidbits about you (pick whichever letters you want!) in the comments.

*Hipster Tracey apparently answered that question.

The Only Writing Advice You Need Right Now

On the first Monday of the Blog Me Maybe blogfest I had these grand ideas of giving you some really good writing advice. (Because that’s what the schedule calls for and I’m a nerdy rule-follower.)

But then I had the most productive writing weekend ever, and I spent so much time working on my WIP that I didn’t have time to write some brilliant musings on the craft. And I’m 67 percent sure the musings, had I spent time on them, would have been brilliant.

So in light of my super productive weekend, I give you some thoughts on how to write well:

1. Close Twitter. No, don’t minimize it—Click. It. Shut.
2. Ban yourself from Facebook. (Trust me, all you’re missing is updates like, Rain again! Boooo. :( and Ur so selfish. U know who u r! Grr.)
3. Stay away from the Internet. If you need to research something, make a note then go back when going online isn’t punishable by 50 push-ups.
4. Tell everyone you know that you have to work over the weekend. If they give you a hard time for working on your “hobby,” pretend you’re catching up on the day job.
5. Hide your cell under a few blankets and pretend you don’t hear it when it rings.
6. Don’t answer the doorbell.
7. Let your e-mails pile up. If that stresses you out, seek immediate medical attention.
8. Write.

And that’s it.

Oh, and if you’re feeling cheated because I didn’t really give you advice on how to write, check out this post on your best writing advice or this post on your outlining tips. See? I’m the kind of evil genius who uses your intelligence to make me look more intelligent. It’s amazing.

On that note, leave a writing tip in the comments for your fellow writers.

Friday Funnies: A Bad Lip Reading

Happy Friday, friends. I’ve been having fun doing Blog MeMaybe with you guys. Today’s my favorite day of the blogfest because it’s all about having fun.

So I wanted to share a new-to-me video that I think you’ll like. There’s a very large chance you all have seen this already, mainly because I’m not nearly as cool as I pretend to be.

I MEAN... uh, I’m like probably the coolest person you’ll ever meet and I knew Bad Lip Reading was cool before anyone else did.

Right, so the Bad Lip Reading people remake popular videos with words you’d assume were being sung if you were lip reading. And if you were bad at it. The most amazing thing is that it really does seem that the lyrics match their moving lips.

This is a bad lip reading remix of Taylor Swift’s “Our Song,” featuring Wiz Khalifa.

My favorite part starts at 3:25, when Taylor and Wiz sing nonsensical phrases to each other like: 

Pools of Tang (It’s like ghetto poison.) 

Exotic garlic syrup (Helps to wash down licorice.)

And, yes, it took me a good minute to realize this was not some wacky new song of Taylor Swift’s. Shut up.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

About a Boy

Sometimes I read YA books and think to myself, This is so not a teen boy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no expert in underage men, but some of them seem so sensitive. Almost like, oh I don’t know, girls.

Or like the way girls want boys to be:

That is, cute, sensitive, and always holding a puppy.

I don’t object to sensitive teen boys. They make up some of the best YA crushes. But do most real teen boys whisper poetic nothings in their crushes’ ears? Eh, probably not.

This doesn’t much bother me when we’re reading the story in the point of view of a teen girl. But when the narrator is an average guy and doesn’t sound adequately boyish—or if he sounds old enough to be a CW teen—then I get sad. Because as a teen I would have loved to be in the mind of a boy for 200 pages.

So when I read a book where the boy voice just screams BOY, I get pretty excited. That’s why I love Notes From the Blender. I read this half a year ago, and today when I was thinking of great teen boy narrators who weren’t written by an author with a color for a last name, it was the first that came to my mind.

Because today is Thursday and the Rules of the blogfest say I need to tell you about someone, I’m going to introduce you to Declan.

This* is Declan:

• Scrawny and scraggly haired
• Wears all black
• Loves violent video games
• Listens to death metal
• Has secretly had a massive crush on Neilly, the girl who is soon to be his stepsister
• Wonders if he can score with Neilly before she’s officially part of the family

Dec’s voice is spot-on. (It’s a multiple POV book with alternating chapters written from Neilly’s perspective.) If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if his chapters were written by an actual 16-year-old boy. His outlook on the world and his situation—his father is marrying Neilly’s mom, who is pregnant with Dec’s soon-to-be step-sibling—is hilarious, as is the way he tries to forget that the girl he’s been fantasizing about for years—the HOTTEST GIRL ON EARTH—will be living down the hall.

Dec’s sarcasm and boyish thoughts are pretty awesome. Like in this excerpt, where he’s listening to Neilly talk about the two guys she likes:

Like, for example, Neilly’s seemingly eternal question: Should she listen to whatever Sam had to say to her, oh my God, he shut Gary up, that’s so cool, he’s really grown as a person, or would that be stupid for her to totally forgive him for macking on Lulu, that was so uncool, what kind of person would do that? 

And I was like, “Well, I don’t know, Neill”—I call her Neill ’cause we’re close like that—“I mean, I guess it comes down to this: Does he have what you want in a guy?” 

“I think so,” she said. “I mean, I want somebody I can talk to.” Check. Got that—we’re talking now. “Somebody who makes me laugh.” Yup, several times a day. “And somebody who’s, you know, sensitive without being wussy.” I was pretty sure I had demonstrated that quality on several occasions. “And, of course, someone who’s smokin’ hot.” 

Well, three out of four is 75 percent. Not great, but a solid passing grade. Something to build on.

I don’t intend this to be a review of the book, but if you’re curious: It’s funny and sweet and worth a read. Dec’s POV is definitely the stronger of the two, but Neilly’s is still fun.

Who’s your favorite teen boy narrator?

* I was going to put a photo here but finding a decent shot of a teen death metal fan wearing all black is harder than you might imagine.

Warn Yourself

So one of the things I’m doing with this whole BMM blogfest is asking you guys a question every Wednesday. You think it’s so I can get to know you better, but really I’m just compiling notes for this whole identity theft ring I have going on the side.

So today’s question: What is your mother’s maiden name?

Just kidding. The real question:

If you could travel back in time
to give your teen self one warning,
what would it be?

In Which Teen Tracey Thinks She's Dying

Today marks the start of the month-long Blog Me MAYbe blogfest, in which you blog more often, have more fun, and never run out of blog post ideas. Four out of five doctors surveyed said the blogfest reduces weight by 87 perecent.* If you want to join in, click here for details.

Let’s kick this baby off with the Tuesday topic: May I tell you something about myself? Because I write for teens, I thought it’d be fun to use Tuesdays to tell you things about Teen Tracey. I can’t promise that will always be the case—I’m pretty set on dedicating a future post to my new writing space—but just go with it. (Thanks and I love you.)

Okay, yep, this is totally what I looked like in high school. Did I forget to mention I was a part-time woman of ill repute?*

I was pretty sure I was dying.

I’d felt fine all morning—no headache or nausea or little signs of my body slowly shutting down. It wasn’t until after lunch, when I was sitting in Chemistry, that I became aware of my imminent demise.

There I was, gagging at the scent of chalk mixed with pencil shavings and some bitter chemical we’d just boiled over a Bunsen burner. My classmates scribbled lab notes while our teacher erased the blackboard. I rubbed my hands harder, on my new black jeans to improve my circulation. My thighs warmed, but the friction wasn’t doing anything for my blue hands.

I was no medical genius, but blue hands seemed … wrong. And let’s be serious, wrong = fatal. It was a fact.*

I walked up to my teacher, hands clenched into fists. Sure, a chemistry teacher isn’t a good substitute for a doctor, but gimme a break; I was working with what I had. He stared at my hands, the blue fingers and palms. I waited for him to laugh at me, to tell me the chemicals we’d just mixed could turn you into Violet Beauregarde’s twin, but he didn’t. Because he had no idea what was wrong with me.

So, right. Back to the whole dying thing.

Me, melodramatic? Psh.

I spent the rest of the day furiously rubbing my hands together and on my legs to warm them up, but no matter what I did, they stayed freakishly blue. By the time the last bell had rang, I’d pretty much resigned myself to creating a last will and testament instead of doing homework that night.**

My mom’s car waited for me when I left the building and I threw myself into the back seat.

“How was your day?” she asked. I told her everything: how I felt fine all day, how my hands suddenly turned blue, how I was pretty much going to die and I really didn’t want my sister to have my favorite sweater.

And then she laughed. SHE LAUGHED AT HER DYING DAUGHTER.

And passed me a wet wipe while laughing. While wiping her laugh-tears away.

I cleaned my hands with the wipe, which left them pink and healthy looking. But the wet wipe? Bluish black.

Because my unwashed black jeans were bleeding on my hands. My hands that rubbed on my jeans THE ENTIRE DAY. The jeans that sopped up extra water after I washed my hands and dried them on those scratchy brown paper towels that smelled like sour leaves.

I’m not ashamed to reveal this to you. To let you know that:

1. We didn’t have cell phones with Internet access when I was in school.
2. WebMD had not been created. (But, yes, funny guy, the Internet had.)
3. I was a complete hypochondriac and apparently lacked all sorts of street smarts.

Make me feel better: When have you completely overreacted in health matters?

*But not really.

**Who am I kidding? Even if I were dying, I’d have done my homework. Just in case.

Coming Soon

Oh hi.

So there’s this blogfest I’m doing in May that I wanted to tell you about, mostly because I want to read the posts you create for it. Which means this is a totally selfish post. I’m okay with that.

See, my friend Sara McClung was having a hard time keeping up with her blog and thought, “Hey, May would be a good month to rededicate myself to the Internet People.” Though I can’t guarantee the order of events, I’m pretty sure she then scratched her chin (yes, in my imagination Sara is really an old man) and said, “How can I make this month of blogging fun?” 

Anyhow, the point of this reenactment is not to get you to picture cute blonde Sara as an old man. No! The point is to tell you that the result of all of her thinking and chin scratching is the Blog Me MAYbe blogfest, which I’m hosting with Sara, Katy Upperman, Alison Miller, Cambria Dillon, Jessica Love, Alexandra Shostak, and Lola Sharp.

Here are a few reasons this blogfest is high on the FEST:

1. Though there’s a schedule for daily posting, you don’t have to post daily.
2. Which means it’s totally okay if you participate in the blogfest every Monday or only three times in May.
3. We won’t track you down.
4. Because we’re lazy.
5. You don’t have to follow every single blog participating in the blogfest.
6. If fact, you don’t have to follow a single person to participate.
7. Yippee.
8. You don’t have to comment on other people’s posts daily.
9. Though if you do, I’m sure they’d blush and squeal with joy.
10. But those against joy and/or squealing can still participate.
11. We won’t judge.
12. Much.

So here’s how it works, starting with May 1.

MONDAYS: May I tell you something about writing?

This can be anything writing related. A post on craft. A post on your process. A snippet of your WIP, if you like to share. A book on craft that you want to recommend. Things you struggle with. Things you rock at. ANYTHING at all!

TUESDAYS: May I tell you something about myself?

Share something about yourself that your readers may or may not know, like how you’re a professional cake tester. It doesn't matter—this is just so people who read your blog can get to know you a little better.

WEDNESDAYS: May I ask something about you?

Ask your readers something about themselves. Like, any professional cake testers out there? I’d like to lessen your workload a little…

THURSDAYS: May I tell you something about someone else?

Make this post about someone else. A writing friend. A critique partner. A person from history who’s fascinating. A character from a book. Anyone you want. Have a guest poster. Give an interview. Get creative. Just let the spotlight shine on someone else.

FRIDAYS: May I share something funny?

Friday = the start of the weekend. That’s reason to celebrate and laugh on its own. Plus, who doesn’t want to see something amusing after a long week? (Well, probably those people against squealing for joy...)

So, if you’re interested in playing along—all month or just every now and then—grab a button for your blog and start posting come May.

<center><a href="http://thewordsonpaper.blogspot.com" target="_blank"><img alt="Words on Paper" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lbsQLM4Q1WGvtr9MuOi2EQM51bUbwptUv1-u25FfeQY0dcQlDr7G_7bvP4wwVuW6snR6OZnh_ZvNmWdZ-qxR7ECh-7-zdVGe1dFSXSOAOIpXvtCCXPTDwblwk0udVzYYkBtFfeETFNE/s1600/BMM+Button.jpg"/></a></center>

You can sign up here, and check these blogs during the month of May to read what other participants have to say:

And in the mean time, I’m going to pretend it’s a Friday in May and leave you with these oldies but goodies:

In case can’t hear it from where you are, I’m SQUEALING with JOY.