The Whitney Awards


I bet you thought I was going to ask you to write more descriptions of these very stunning women. No, dear blog reader, actually this is a picture of Julie Wright and I at the Whitney Awards. By the way, I am actually wearing one of Julie’s dresses because she has much better taste than I do. (I had planned on buying a dress while I was in Utah but somehow it never happened.)

I know I should tell you who the winners of the description contest are. I’m going to get to that soon–really. I’ve enlisted the help of two judges and they have yet to get back to me about their choices. (If you’re reading this, judges,take this as a subtle hint.)

The reason it’s been so long since I’ve written, is that I’ve spent the last week in Utah doing school visits, book signings, a writers conference, and the Whitney Awards. My Fair Godmother was up for the best YA novel.

Here is a picture of me after the awards:
You can probably tell from the number of chocolate deserts sitting in front of me that once again, I didn’t win.

Here are some other losers after the awards:
At least I’m in good company. Jessica Day George, James Dashner, and Julie Wright are all awesome writers.

And here’s what happens when you go for a week with very little sleep. I am leading a group of women in a rendition of Beyonce’s Single Ladies.

Dan Wells, who won some award for something, said that all my blog readers would wonder what I was pointing at. He may have made that snarky comment because I commandeered a podcast interview and asked him some of my own questions. Well, what do you expect when you write a book called: I Am Not A Serial Killer? People are going to wonder about certain things. One of the questions I asked him was, “What are you not going to be next?”

According to Dan, he is not going to be a vampire next, but I guess we’ll have to see. Personally, I think Dan sparkles. Just saying. Here is a picture of Dan and me. I ask you: Does this man look like a serial killer and should people really be giving him awards?

Oh, all right, I’ll post a normal picture of Dan and I.

Next blog I’ll post contest winners and more pictures of the conference.

Julie Wright, a dangerous woman

One of the funnest parts of being a writer is getting to hang out with other authors, so I was especially looking forward to having my good friends Julie Wright and Josi Kilpack come down to Arizona to do book signings. Having them stay at my house—total slumber party.

There was only one little problem. Before they came I managed to give myself a head wound and a black eye. I won’t go into the details of how this happened as it is a long boring story except for the part that makes me look really foolish, but the moral of the story is: No, I don’t have night vision.

Really, it is easier to give yourself a black eye than you’d think.

So I warned Julie and Josi that I looked like a homeless person (It’s hard to wash your hair when you’ve smeared antibiotic ointment on your hairline) and planned on skipping out on their signings. But they were also speaking to a book club and invited me to come—in fact, they invited me to speak at it with them. How could I turn it down?

I hoped people would think I was going for the slightly greasy hair look, then caked on the foundation. It did a pretty good job hiding the bruise.

Josi spoke, I spoke, and then Julie spoke. But Julie gave one of those really moving talks about the books that turned her life around when she was young. It wasn’t long before I was crying. Which wouldn’t have been a bad thing at all except that I knew crying would wash away my foundation and suddenly reveal to everybody there that I was hiding a black eye.

How do you explain that to a roomful of strangers? “Oh, and by the way folks, in case you were wondering–my husband doesn’t really doesn’t beat me!”

This is why you shouldn’t go listen to Julie Wright if you need to keep your makeup in place.