Choose Your Own Adventure Wednesday (And Book Giveaway)

The winner of the last CYOAW giveaway is Rebecca. But since she lives across the pond, I drew a second name to receive OPERATION YES, Mandy's.

Here is this week's CYOAW:

“Shh.” I held my finger to my lips and whispered, “Don’t you go anywhere.”

Max stared.

That's fish for he understood.

“Vilonia, honey, I know you’re in there." A familiar voice drifted inside.

I peeked through the side curtains and snapped them shut. There was only one person in all of Howard County who wore floral prints the size of dinner plates.

That was Miss Bettina, owner of Tom Sawyer's Catfish. I disliked her more than cauliflower.

"Vilonia, this is important business. Right up there with that royal wedding. Is your Mama home?"

I groaned. Everything was important to Miss Bettina, especially when it was none of her business. I don't know why I opened that door.

She buzzed in faster than a fly to jelly-clad toast.

"Where's that Mama of yours? Ms. Tooley's finally kicked the can." Miss Bettina clapped her sausage-like fingers together with glee. Everything about Miss Bettina was big. Her hair, her hips, even her eyeballs. Only Miss Bettina would be thrilled when a member of our town's passed on. She bowled by me in screaming hibiscus print, and honest to goodness, I tried to protest. But Miss Bettina was large.

And in charge.

"Mama's resting. She doesn't need to be bothered."

"Nonsense, Vilonia. This is Ms. Tooley we're talking about. It'll be the biggest obit of the year!" She leaned closer to me and cackled. I smelled onions and garlic and hushpuppies. At nine thirty in the morning. "Do you think there'll be one of those fancy estate sales?" Her flabby cheeks wobbled with excitement. "I'd love to get my hands on her iron skillets. Why, they're positively ancient."

Now, Mama pretty much liked everyone in Howard County, and even though her job was to consult next of kin when writing our dearly departed's obituaries, I knew for a fact she already had a draft put back for Belinda Beatrice Bettina.

It wasn't scathing. But it wasn't overly kind.

Just like Miss Bettina.

"Vilonia! This here fish has the fungus."

"What?" My heart stopped cold. I didn't know fish could catch fungi. But if anyone knew fish, it was Hushpuppy Breath. I ran to the fishbowl. Sure enough, Max had rolled onto his side, his top fin white-coated and flailing. He wasn't floating, but he wasn't swimming. He stared straight ahead.

That's fish for "Help!"

"Miss Bettina, you'll have to come back another time." I pressed my palms against her wide backside and shoved her to the door. I might have dead bolted it behind her.

I zipped back and grabbed Max, fishbowl and all. With a backward glance to make sure Mama's door was still closed, I ran out the side door. There was no time to leave a note. This was a matter of life or death.

I set Max in my bike's handlebar basket and sped off. Rounding the corner, I hit a rock. Water sloshed out of the fishbowl, but I pressed on. Nothing would happen to Mr. Plummer’s classroom fish. No siree. Not on my watch.

"Hang on, Max. We're almost there."

++++++++++

Dear Readers, you decide where Vilonia is taking Max. Let me know in the comments for a chance to win SCUMBLE.

Read the rules here.

ETA: Click to enter another giveaway, this one for Clara Gillow Clark's HATTIE.

Because Talent is Overrated (Or, I've lost it.)

I just did something very, very scary.

Involving quake in my rain-boots homework.

Homework that I've been avoiding because every time I attempt it, Fear pays me a visit. And all I want is a nap equivalent to snow-cave hibernation.

I am not prepared.

Yet.

Please send good vibes, friends. I am in three different states in a matter of that many weeks. Not sure how I'll make the time to do the pre-conference work.

Was it just three days ago I asked for a revision workshop?

Then spots opened.

It's like I'm starting my own The Dan Plan.

Heaven help.

"But here's the deal: faith IS the willingness to look foolish.

Noah looked foolish building an ark in the desert. Sarah looked foolish buying
maternity clothes at ninety. The Israelites looked foolish marching around
Jericho blowing trumpets. David looked foolish attacking Goliath with a
slingshot. Benaiah looked foolish chasing a lion. The wise men looked foolish
following yonder star. Peter looked foolish stepping out of the boat in the
middle of the lake. And Jesus looked foolish hanging half-naked on the cross.
But, that's the essence of faith. And the results speak for themselves.

Noah was saved from the flood. Sarah gave birth to Isaac. The walls of Jericho
came tumbling down. David defeated Goliath. Benaiah killed the lion. The wise
men found the Messiah. Peter walked on water. And, Jesus rose from the dead."

"Remember this: we serve an unlimited God with unlimited resources. A God who
looked at a few loaves and fish and saw a banquet for five thousand people."

- Mark Batterson, excerpts taken from In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day: How to Survive and Thrive when Opportunity Roars

That's what I have. A few meager, stale loaves of bread.

With a helping of faith.

(Thanks to my friend Lizann for the pep talk.)

Working Conference

I'm under the weather (allergy season in full swing), but unlike last year, I haven't ended up at the eye clinic looking like I'd lost a round to Evander Holyfield. So, brief post today.

Does anyone know of a good conference along the lines of Darcy Pattison's Novel Revision Retreat? I'm out of town the weekend it's offered nearby, so her workbook will have to suffice.

I'd love to get away and work with people who get it.

If you know of a good, working retreat, will you pretty please with sugar on top let me know when and where?

Thanks.

Friday Five (Or I cry in under 2 minutes)

1. Participate in #fridayreads if you have a twitter account. I won this NYT best-seller in hardcover last week.

2. Like an idiot, I went shopping for jeans. Skinny, straight, boyfriend, flare, cropped, or trouser fit. It's enough to make a grown girl cry. But, dear designers, PLEATS?! *sob*

3. Naturally, I came home with this instead:

Friends, I have a dress with no place to go. Invite me to a garden party in a far away city, please? It looks a little too breezy for NYC this fall. (Oh yes, I just said that.)

4. I have a beta! (Hi, Laura.)

5. This made me cry in under two minutes. Required watching for everyone.

Choose Your Own Adventure Wednesday (And Book Giveaway)

Last week, we started something new called Choose Your Own Adventure Wednesdays.

Read the rules here.

The winner, thanks to random number generator, is...

#10, Audra of the cooking/crafting/simplifying blog Inspired Nutmeg.

A copy of SAVVY will hit your mailbox in the near future.

And let me tell you how much fun it was turning Max into a goldfish.

This week's CYOA giveaway is OPERATION YES by Sara Lewis Holmes,

complete with signed bookplate.

Onto this week's contest:

Someone had to stay put in case he croaked.

Max wasn't a toad.

Max occupied my entire existence.

Max was a goldfish.

Mr. Plummer's to be exact.

My dreamy T.D.H. (tall, dark, and handsome) fifth-grade teacher with eyes greener than a four-leaf clover. And I was the lucky student whose name - Vilonia Renae Beebe - he drew out of his glittering World's Best Teacher mug. So, I entered 21 times, but who's counting? Mr. Plummer chose me to be the sole responsible party for the duration of Spring Break for Maximus Tropicana, classroom fish.

I watched from the kitchen as Daddy and Leon rattled down the drive pulling our flat bottom fishing boat. They'd made it to the mailbox before I pressed my freckled nose up to the smudged fishbowl glass.

And squealed.

Mr. Plummer would be won over by my truest potential. I was sure of it.

I wasn't about to let Max out of my sight.

Then the doorbell rang.

***

“Shh.” I held my finger to my lips and whispered, “Don’t you go anywhere.”

Max stared.

That's fish for he understood.

“Vilonia, honey, I know you’re in there." A familiar voice drifted inside.

I peeked through the side curtains and snapped them shut. There was only one person in all of Howard County who wore floral prints the size of dinner plates.

That was _________.

******

Dear Readers, who would you have at the door?

Tell me in the comments for your chance to win. I'll randomly select a winner and continue the story next week. Stay tuned! :)

******

P.S. It's my husband's birthday. I'm busy making banana pudding *from scratch* and prepping for an out of town guest. Please forgive if I'm tardy on replies. (It's because I'm sneaking spoonfuls of deliciousness...)

Be Careful What You Wish for...

Coming April 26th to a store near you, a fantastical, dark fairy tale.

I'm hosting one stop of the author's blog tour. More to come in May.

Choose Your Own Adventure Wednesday (Complete with SAVVY Giveaway!)

So.

I've been talking to the husband about writing. Guys, I clued in.

I've forgotten how to have fun with writing.

I procrastinate, I'm tense, and I've developed this little neurotic twitch that I'm not going to talk about... er, wait.

It's been weeks since I've produced serious wordage for fear of certain eyeballs reading. The closer I get, the scarier the journey becomes.

So, I'm doing something about it. But, I'll need your help. Help me find my groove, people.

THE DEAL:

On (most) Wednesdays, I will post a short story and leave off in the middle - you, Dear Readers, will choose what comes next.

THE RULES:

1. I reserve the right to post as little or as much as I want, as little or as often as I want. But, I'll shoot for Wednesdays. (Hence, Choose Your Own Adventure Wednesdays.) It's my blog. I have another life. Really.

2. In the event my house becomes a sick ward, I will not post.

3. I will choose one comment, supplied by you, and continue the story the next week or so based on the winning comment's idea or suggestion. Be creative! But please don't make me spend six hours of my life researching alpacas. (See Rules 1 & 2)

4. The winning commenter will win that week's book giveaway. It can be a shiny new book, or a beat up well-read one, as long as it is off my shelf. I will exclude toddler-teethed on ones for the sake of germaphobes everywhere (Rule 2). You're welcome.

5. I will continue CYOA Wednesdays until I get bored, you get bored, or I run out of books. The latter event is highly unlikely.

6. I reserve the right to amend rules as we go along. (I've always wanted to say that.)

7. You do not need to be a follower of my blog to play, that's just silly. (But I'd love you forever and ever amen.)

8. Yes, you may blog, tweet, fb it. Brownie points are always a good thing.

9. Anyone, kids included, are encouraged to participate. However, I'm sad to say I cannot mail books outside the 48 contiguous United States. I will try to mail books within 2 weeks, but there is no guarantee. (Rules 1 & 2)

10. Disclaimer: This is my blog, not an actual manuscript. While I will do my best, the entries will probably have mistakes, typos, and not necessarily be factual. They will most likely be whimsical, done on the fly, in the carpool line, for FUN.*

THE GIVEAWAY: SAVVY, a Newbery Honor book, by the fabulous Ingrid Law

THE ENTRY: (This one is semi-autobiographical. *cough* adorable baby in yellow *cough* Enjoy!)

WEEK 1:

The day I was born I was four times smaller than the trophy big-mouthed bass hanging in my Daddy’s office.

My entire hand fit on the doctor’s thumbnail. Nobody, Mom included, had planned on me arriving three months early.

But I did.

At two pounds, two ounces, I was the size of head of cauliflower (I hate cauliflower) and didn’t make a peep. My twin brother didn’t either.

Boy, have times changed.

Daddy says I talk faster, and louder, than a car salesman guzzling his tenth lukewarm Folgers. Which is why he refuses to take me fishing.

Girls who talk too much scare away the catch.

My brother now, he could put a jig on a lure faster than said bass could strike. Therein lies the problem.

He was gone fishing while I was stuck home. Babysitting Max.

TO BE CONTINUED...

+++++

Readers, who or what is Max?

ETA: Is he a baby brother, a pet, a robot? You choose, and I'll write him in next week. One word answers are fine.

(Commenting often increases your chances. I'll choose one answer and write from there. Best of luck!)

*Then why am I still nervous? Meep.

How to Craft a Picture Book

A picture book about creating a picture book, by the amazing and brilliant Polly Dunbar.

Click here to read IDEAS ARE EVERYWHERE.

Happy Friday

Worth watching until the end.

ETA: A disclaimer: I have 4 boys.