The Whole New Me

And so, I think I'm going to move this blog and all my future thoughts to a different location. I'll be posting about candy and housework and writing and reading and cold cereal and stuff like that at

http://www.authorjennifergriffith.com/

Click over there to read further! Thanks for reading my dithering thoughts here on Blogger. Good times!

Sure, now it works! And Jolly Fish and Cereal

Blogger has been giving me the spinning wheel of death in the "compose" box for a couple of weeks. Finally it allows me to blog! My need to spew into the blogosphere has been great, and now that it allows me, I've pretty much drawn a blank.

Meanwhile, I'm getting excited about Big in Japan! I finished all the edits over spring break. Believe me, doing edits while riding for 37 hours in a 13 year-old Suburban filled with five kids, eleven drying out Happy Meals, and a neverending litany of books on CD is a little tricky. I wonder if anything I sent back to my publisher is even coherent.

It seems they still like me, however. I get encouraging emails from them at least once a week. How nice is that? Jolly Fish Press! They're pretty awesome. I wish every writer could find as great a group of people to work with as I've been lucky/blessed enough to find.



A lot of my writing friends, both published and yet-to-be-published have been asking me about this publisher. Seriously? I have no complaints at all whatsoever. I've always known I'd prefer to be with a small press, where the team knows the writers, where it's a smaller pond. (Not that I'm some big fish, just another jolly one.) I really like being part of a family-like operation. There are other writers who would prefer to be all New York, and that's great! I can see the merit in that. I'm just more of a small town girl, and a small press fits my personality. If that's you, I say go for it. Query these guys. You've got nothing to lose, and a great group of friends and cheerleaders to gain.

So. Cold cereal. It's still my nemesis. That darned Vanilla Almond Awake. Did I mention I'm running 15 miles a week now? Every week. And do I lose any weight? Nope. Back in the day, John Belushi said, "I owe it all to little chocolate doughnuts." Me? I owe it all to the delicious array of cold cereals that span my hall pantry. I think I need a handful of it now to get me through until it's time to go pick up the kids.

[Geez. Blogger. It won't let me upload the pic of my cereal. Imagine it HERE.]

Fabulously Overwritten (without candy)

My friend Lynette found this on the KSL.com classifieds, an ad for a car. But not just any car.

Click on the link to see the full ad with pics, but I have to copy and paste all the prose because the car is going to SELL and then the fun might be removed from the site. And that would be sad. So sad.

http://bit.ly/zUQIvV

2002 Ford Escort ZX2

Provo, UT    - Mar 12, 2012

$3,2500

For Sale by Owner

Clean Retail NADA value (w/current mileage): $4,825.

Well. The wait is over. The most ballingest car ever is finally on the market. This one-of-a-kind ZX2 coupe is to the limit. And it takes no prisoners.

Thats a double whammy.

Features? Yeah, its got em. Like how about it comes in sparkly, get-rich-or-die-tryin green. That means its camouflaged in the forest or lush fields of grass where you will undoubtedly be taking your lady (or ladies if youre driving this) for a picnic of skewered lamb and frosty beverages. Green = the new whatever color you want. Green = mother natures cloaking device.

Its got privacy glass so you can do whatever the eff you want as you blitz past zombies on the freeway. Plus, while everyone else is looking at each other picking their nose, youll be chillin in a darkened cocoon of comfort and maintaining the mystique and mystery that comes naturally when you own a ZX2.

30+ MPG? Uh-huh. Get out there and explore, Magellan.

Air Con? Check. Keep cool, my brother.

Cruise Control? Oh most definitely. Dont be like everyone else on the freeway with their stop-slow-and-go driving. Lock this baby in at 85 - Utah's real speed limit - and save on the MPGeezle.

Power windows? Power locks? Power steering? Thats a fatty mcfatty yes.

AM/FM, 6-Disc CD changing entertainment extravaganza? You know it.

Leather interior? Rare for ZX2s - but not this one. Because luxury is seats that feel smooth on your butt.

Zippy 4-speed auto tranny? Indubitably.

And before you ask, no youre not dreaming - yes, that is a spoiler back there and yes. . . you want this car. Bad.

This well-maintained and fully restored beauty is a salvage title. It was bought out of an insurance pool after getting into a tiny fender bender (i.e. vicious car cock fight. . . which it won. . . with metal and brawn).

The right front fender was dented, but then replaced by a cadre of men who were born in garages and bottle-fed Penzoil. Basically all that means is now this amazing piece of machinery has more character than your neighbors lame van.

Bottom line: if this car were any more advanced, it would stand up and say 'Autobots, roll out!'



Bless you, Doug, for writing this piece. And selling this piece.

I love this ad. The time and love that went into writing it created a final draft of complete joy for me.

When I was at the ANWA Conference, Matt Petersen suggested that anytime we write something we should consider overwriting. Why? Because in his case he overwrote a blurb for some Disney Princess Halloween costumes and they turned into a freelance job offer. They became the start of his writing portfolio. Pretty sweet.

(As is the car for sale in this ad.)

May Doug get a full price offer.

Oh, and my house smells like a dirty dog. I cannot even stomach the thought of candy. No candy blather from me today.

Stop the Presses! (And pass the treats.)

Over the last three days I've eaten waaaaay too much of this amazing new cereal treat my friend Sherral invented. Just melt peanut butter and chocolate chips (in any denominations of your preference), combine and pour over raisin bran. Chill and eat. Oh, my, goodness! What a great way to impose my double standard of no-candy!

I love my double standard, and I'm sticking to it.


Last week? Whew! What a ride. I can't believe a lot of it happened. The Centennial Celebration was a blast. I ended up doing a ton of writing about it, and the article I wrote for the local paper featuring our delightful centenarian got some attention from a national outlet. On Monday morning I got a call from the editor and she offered me the chance to redo it for Reuters. Yeah, Reuters, the international news service.

Well, shut the front door.

I reinterviewed her and whipped something up (which had the chance to be revamped almost entirely by the very nice "real" reporter for Reuters) which then got released on Valentine's morning and went out to be published in outlets such as Yahoo News, msnbc.com, and the Chicago Tribune. (I still can't believe the "real" reporter went ahead and put my byline on it. Seriously nice.)

Holy crap. (That's the phrase that went through my head about 1400 times.)

Seriously, that was one of the more traumatic writing experiences ever. But interviewing the lovely LaVona Evans was wonderful. What an honor! She bakes 10 loaves of bread a week. Kneads it by hand. What a woman!

The other exciting wiritng thing that happened was Meridian Magazine published a couple of my essay articles. One was "Seeds Grow in Dirt" which I featured here last Mother's Day. Then on V-Day they ran an essay I wrote about love. I mean, not a love story, but how I really had bad postpartum and got all offended at something a guy said and then had to eat my words and really truly came to love and appreciate the guy.

All in all, it was a whirlwind writing week. And I didn't get a single word done on my NaNo novel, which languishes.

But I'm working on it today. I MUST finish it. I will be the Little Engine that Could. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

Just probably not before lunch. Or before I eat another three cups of that amazing raisin bran choco-peanut butter stuff.

In Japan they call it peanuts butter. That's cute, right?

Japan, Ahhh

I have been thinking a lot about Japan this week. I met the Secretary of State (for AZ) yesterday. He, too, served as a missionary in Japan years ago. We had a brief, stilting (on my part) conversation in Japanese, and he seemed to have adored the country as much as I did.

A couple of weeks ago I decided I was going to check out Google Plus. It's still not capturing me as a social media snag-of-all-my-time, which I should be thankful for, and I might go back and check out my circles sometime, but for now I have to say one really spectacular find did come out of my venture into Google Parts Unknown. It made me stumble across Shoot Tokyo.

Shoot Tokyo is a blog of a guy, Dave Powell, who lives in Tokyo and goes to different neighborhoods and takes pictures and posts them and comments on them. A post a day. So many of his pictures for me are what I'd call in Japanese "natsukashii," or nostalgic~. They make me sigh and wish I could see that beautiful place again.

Maybe a zillion people will buy my sumo wrestling book and I can use the proceeds to take my family to see Japan. Wouldn't that be a dream?

One post of his in particular was a doozie on my nostalgia-ometer. It is of an alley in a neighborhood called Shinjuku, which is where I lived. This is yakitori alley, a narrow, narrow street where they sell yakitori (cooked bird/chicken on a stick. Tender meat, soy and sesame seasonings, salty perfection.) Since I spent so much of my time in that city on foot walking around meeting people, this is the Tokyo I saw very often. It was warm, with smiling faces, friendly merchants, giggling school girls, grinning grandmas, good feelings.

I loved Japan. I still love it. The Japanese people I met were more than kind to me, they were embracing. It's a beautiful place for a thousand reasons. I had to write a novel about Japan--and I hope when the book comes out that those who read it get a similar sense of wonder. My goal was to take readers on a virtual trip to the islands of the rising sun, tell them a story, and let them dream. I hope I succeeded, even in a small measure.

Twinkies Go Bankrupt (and why a writer should read)

So, I just read this news story. "Twinkies Go Bankrupt." How terrible is that? People, people, people. Get off your duffs and go buy some Hostess Snack Cakes and let's prop up this important icon of American buisness. This should not be allowed to happen!

Snack Cakers of the world, take action!

I found a recipe this week for a tiramisu made from Twinkies. She left out the coffee (putting in only chocolate syrup) and called it White Trash Tiramisu.

How happy is that?



Very. And if we all went and made one of these tasty treats RIGHT NOW, maybe we can save Twinkies.

It's our American duty.

Now I'm going to stop surfing the internet for these important updates and get back to work on reading this fantastic novel my friend Colleen recommended, Juliet by Anne Fortier. I lovvvvvve it. You should click on the link and just read the blurb. Soooo well done. And I have to read it, I tell myself, because reading is one of the most important things a writer can do. If we don't read and all we ever do is write write write, we start thinking our writing is too fabulous. If we read too much and never write, then we start thinking our writing is too lame. Gotta have that good balance. So, happy reading weekend to me!

National Chocolate Cake Day and an Ironic Argument

Celebrate, people! It's one of the best days of the year. It's National Chocolate Cake Day! What could be better? Valentine's Day? I say not--because on V-day you have to wait for someone else to give you the chocolate, and there are issues and implications and heaviness and sometimes pouting or martyrdom connected to the chocolate giving/receiving.

Not so on National Chocolate Cake Day. Let's all just get along, and share the cake. Is it best with a glass of milk? Or will a scoop of ice cream on the side do? Sigh. I love it. And the frosting must be equal to the cake, I say. Frosting snobs, UNITE! Only the best for MY chocolate cake.

Kind of reminds me of when my oldest was a wee babe in arms and I had a package of Pampers from a baby shower with me on a vacation and my aunt (who still had a babe in arms, that's just how it is in families of Mormons, get over it) teased me about the expensive name brand diapers, "Oh! Pampers, huh? Because nothing is too good for my baby's bottom." Me? I answered. The world's biggest cheapskate? I'd buy diapers at yard sales if I could.

Anyhow, that maxim DOES apply to chocolate cake. Only the RIGHT frosting will do.

Does frosting have nutrients? If you use real butter, there's vitamin E. If you use milk, there's a dash of calcium. Man, it's almost health food.

No iron, though. Not even in the powdered sugar.

Which brings me to a different point about iron, I mean, IRONY. I keep being told that a lot of people don't get what irony is, and I've heard many complaints directed at that angsty Canadian singer (forgot her name right now) who sang "Isn't it Ironic" about rain on her wedding day, the complaint being that she misdiagnosed irony, thereby leading astray a generation of literary illiterates. I don't know. I never listened that closely to the song. I think I was in Japan when it was popular, or giving birth or something that kept me from enjoying the tunes on the radio.

My husband, who will be footing the bill for date night's dessert tonight (dare you venture a guess?), and I have been in a bit of an argument about irony this week. More of a debate, really.

So. We both were asked to speak in church on Sunday, and somehow he worked in the topic of pets, that we have been given the ability to choose for ourselves, and all consequences aren't immediate and God could make us obey if he wanted to, but he allows some consequences to come later, which makes us His children, not his pets, and so on and so forth.

It was quite interesting. I could even listen to his ideas, since my talk was already over and I could breathe and uncross my eyes, and stuff.

Anyway, the closing song was "Know This That Every Soul is Free," which includes this verse:

Freedom and reason make us men;
Take these away, what are we then?
Mere animals and just as well
The beasts may think of heaven or hell.

When that line about animals came up, we looked at each other in surprise. Hey, that's just what he was saying in his talk!

Later he said, "Wasn't that ironic?" and I said, no. Not ironic. Coincidental. And he said, Nuh-uh, ironic. And I said, Nuh-uh, coincidental.

Or was it?

I'm not sure.

Later, I noticed another aspect to the meeting. My dear friend the veterinarian, who had never been to our church before, had come to listen, and she has a super soft heart toward all creatures canine. In the process heard my husband's tangential points about shock collars, and why it's nice that God doesn't zap us when we make bad choices like a shock collar. Yeah, all the shocking discussion about shock collars. In front of our cute little vet. That seemed ironic to me.

Or was it?

I think it's going to take TWO pieces of chocolate cake to sort it out.

Got this from a site called "Chocolate Cake Party" -- Excellent!

http://www.chocolatecakeparty.net/chocolate-cake/

More Evidence of Karma's Reality (and caramels' reality)

So, twice in the past few weeks, I've had guest bloggers on this site. Wellll, that "law of the harvest" has come to fruition, because guess who's the guest blogger now?

Jolly Fish Press asked me to write a post for their blog site, Jolly Fish Talk, on the topic of how to tell a love story using action and humor. Here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

Meanwhile, there are still about three bags of "neighbor gift" caramels languishing in my cupboard that I never got around to delivering to the neighbors. You know the idiom "burning a hole in his pocket?" Well, those caramels are burning a hole in my resolve. They're so fabulous. I can hear them calling to me in the middle of the night, like in that fairy tale about the Teensy Tiny Woman, who stole the bone from the teensy tiny graveyard and then kept hearing the voice saying, "Give me my bone!" only excepting I don't hear those words, I hear, "Eat me!" like in Alice in Wonderland instead.

Will I resist? Will I feed them to the company we're having tomorrow night? Or will I give in and devour them like the demon calls? ....

Continuous Food Shoveling! & Great Kid Brainstorming

Well, I'm starting to believe that the secret to being the mom of a teenage boy is, when he has friends over for a friendly game (the 9-hour kind that only teen boys appreciate), just keep shoveling food in their direction.

This is the second Saturday in a row when the boys have decorated the living room with game pieces, England attacking Germany, Japan attacking Russia, etc. So far I've placed bowl after bowl of treats before them. Bags of pretzels, Chex snack mix, Eegee's strawberry slush, bean and cheese burritos, a cheese ball and 2 kinds of crackers, a pitcher of strawberry Kool-Aid, half a dozen oranges, a batch of chocolate chip cookies, a pan of brownies. Probably some other stuff I forgot. A minute ago I ripped open a bag of tortilla chips and poured salsa from a jar into a bowl. They fell on it like starving hyenas.

Weird.

Well, considering I've eaten nearly an entire box of Great Value Vanilla Almond Awake dry cereal back here in my lair while they've been The Locusts of the Living Room, it's a sign that it's genetic for at least one child.

I'm new to this mom-of-a-teen thing.

However, I have to say how amazing my teen boy is. And his brother and sisters. We had a road trip to grandma's yesterday, and on the way home I was getting punchy. They started asking me about my latest novel, and they insisted on hearing the entire plot from start to finish. Bless them! They kept asking for more for the full two hour drive. It made me go through what I've written, made me remember what scenes are exciting, which ones aren't, and which characters start out seeming important but fade sadly (and probably need to be cut.)

THEN, they gave me suggestions about the best way to get the motorcycle off the bottom of the Havana Bay (in 1788). And they were good ideas! Plus, the second son had a hilarious idea for one of the other scenes. I think it will become iconic WHEN my current book becomes a bestseller and a summer blockbuster movie. (Dream big, always dream big.)

It's probably the neatest thing EVER to be a mom. I really feel lucky and blessed to have these hilarious and brilliant children in my life. They're the best.

BIG Cheese is the New Chocolate & Overwhelming Encouragement!

I now have not one but TWO whole horns of Colby cheddar on the top shelf of my refrigerator. If the Great Famine hits this week, we're in the cheese.

My friend Emily says she does a ton of pressure canning, cans all her meat because she wants to save room in her freezer for more important things: like cheese.

I can't say I disagree.

These two horns should last us a couple of months. Well, they'd better. Otherwise, it might be that we're eating too much cheese. (Is there such a thing? My 4yo eats almost nothing besides cheese. The occasional half a Dum-Dum sucker. And cheese. That's it.)

So, anyway, I was at the library today chatting with the very stylish librarian (don't remember her name, dangit). She'd heard about my upcoming book somehow and mentioned she'd always kind of wanted to write a book. Ever since she moved from the city to our smallish town, she's wanted to write a humorous story on a similar vein.

When I hear this kind of thing, my world lights up! I love to hear about people who are wanting to get into writing! Seriously, I get silly with excitement. It's a little overwhelming for the unsuspecting person who shared, I'm sure, but I can't help but go a little berserk.

"Oh! You really should!" I said.

She hemmed and hawed. "Oh, I work in a library. I know how many books there are out there. Anything I'd write has already been done, and better than I could do it."

"Not so!" I cried. "Your story is yours. Just write one chapter! See how it makes you feel. If you love it, keep going!"

At that point, the 4yo dragged me over to the fish aquarium, I'm sure to the relief of the librarian. But I have to echo this same thing here to all who have a dream of writing. Put some words on the page! That's really the essence of what all writers do. They may have to be imperfect the first few times, but I like what (I think it was) Jack London said: "I'm a terrible writer, but I'm an excellent rewriter." (Or thereabouts.)

I'm writing terribly a lot this week. The first draft is back underway from my NaNo novel. I'm glad I let it percolate for a month because there are a few really great connections between characters, as well as motivations, that are popping to mind. It's fun to see where this might eventually go.

When I rewrite it five or six times!

Sweet Inspiration

I just returned home from the annual summer Retreat of the American Night Writers Association. I've been a member of this excellent writing group for about 3 years now, and joining has been the best decision of my writing career. My publisher, Chad Daybell suggested I join, and it took me a month or so to decide to do so.

He was so right.

The group is fantastic. I have learned more about writing from these women (and it is women only in the group) than I did in my entire college career, or in my years as a writer for the U.S. Congress, or in my years as an aspiring author. It's just a great, motivational, educational group.

During the Retreat in the high country of Arizona this year, I met several women who really helped me figure out how to make strides in my writing, and I appreciate them very much. For a long time I have resisted starting a writing blog, believing there are enough of them out there. (And there probably are.) I am quite averse to self-promotion, and I saw a presence on the web as annoying to myself and others. However, one of the women in my "suite" helped me see otherwise.

When I told her the catchphrase I've always used for my writing, "Cotton Candy for the Soul," she laughed and told me that needed to be my personal trademark, my logo. She said I should name my blog this. I laughed, thinking, no way. Then I came home, and it sank in. Voila, this blog. Then, as the "Crazy Coincidence" above states, the evening after I created the original page, a neighbor stopped by with six bags of cotton candy in hand. He'd just bought a machine and thought he would drop some by for us. I couldn't believe it.

It made me think, wow, the whole universe is reaffirming this decision.

I know. Now I'm sounding like candy corn for your soul.

But I believe there is a need for entertaining writing. We have a lot of people out there aspiring to write that "Great American Novel," one that will both wrench and open the eyes of each reader. There are others who are out to write something to educate the reader about a social issue, or to do all manner of shocking writing.

However, not I. For some of us, the great gift of reading is escape. I aspire not to write chicken soup or meat and potatoes or spicy salsa.

My stuff isn't deep. It's just light, sweet, gone.

And can't we just enjoy some cotton candy now and then?