Interview with Kiersten White – New York Times Bestselling Author of “Paranormalcy” - Part 1

Kiersten White graciously met with me the night before Thanksgiving to do the following oral interview that I transcribed thereafter.

Julia: What was your inspiration for writing “Paranormalcy”?
Kiersten: My inspiration for writing “Paranormalcy” was I was bored. That’s how most things in my life start whether they turn out good or bad. The previous books I had written had elements like the girls were psychic as the basic premise, but I wanted to do something with more fantasy elements in a real world setting. So I came up with the idea of the “International Paranormal Containment Agency,” which I thought was a clever idea, but I didn’t know what I would do with it. And then I got Evie’s voice in my head, and once I got her voice in my head it really just spun out because her voice was so engaging and so fun to write in, and her world view was so good for telling a story.

J: What is your favorite part of “Paranormalcy” and why?
K: I really like the flirting scenes. I really, really enjoy writing dialogue. Dialogue for me is always the funnest part. I enjoy flirtation. I enjoy the back and forth and the cuteness factor, and the cleverness factor is always very fun for me to write.

J: Were you surprised at the number of people who bought your book? Or did the numbers meet your expectations?
K: I definitely was surprised. I was not expected to hit the New York Times Bestseller's list. They weren’t anticipating me hitting it, but I did have a lot of support in people who were excited about it. I have 3500 followers on Twitter. I’ve got at least a couple thousand people who read my blog, and so I knew I had the ground support. I was obviously shocked but very gratified by it, and I felt very grateful that all of these people who were interested in it actually went out and bought it. That’s the thing . . . all these people read my blog, but are they going to go out and buy the book. So it was surprising but very gratifying.

J: What supernatural being would you love to be and why?
K: I wouldn’t want to be a vampire. I wouldn’t want to be a werewolf. I wouldn’t want to be a hag, although sometimes I resemble one (J & K laugh). I think it would be the most fun to be a faerie even though they are amoral, bordering on evil. But to be able to go anywhere, anytime you wanted would be pretty fun.

J: Do you have other book ideas in store after the “Paranormalcy” series is finished?

K: I actually have a ghost story that I just finished another round of edits and rewrites on that I really love. I have another trilogy that I don’t say anything about at all because I am very protective of that idea. And then I have a historical fantasy set in Romania that I would like to write someday.

Now that you are intrigued, catch the rest of the interview tomorrow here on my blog to see how Kiersten White made it all happen and get some great advice from this lovely author!

Off The Shelf Challenge

Hello, my dear followers. I found this great challenge the other day, and am dedicated to look the challenge in the eye and destroy it—figuratively speaking of course. During the 2011 year, BA Reading Challenges has encouraged us to read your "To Be Read" books that are sitting on your shelf. Click on the Off the Shelf button on my sidebar to enter yourself or go to the following link to get more information:

BA Reading Challenges: Off The Shelf Challenge

The Off The Shelf Challenge runs from January 1st through December 31st, 2011. The challenge is to read books you own, but haven't read yet. The number of books you read is up to the challenge level that you choose (listed below).

My addendum to the challenge: If you have some books that you have always wanted to read but do not own them, then they can totally be a part of the challenge. I am going to do that so you can too.

Challenge Levels:

1. Tempted - choose 5 books to read
2. Trying - choose 15 books to read
3. Making a Dint - choose 30 books to read
4. On a Roll - choose 50 books to read
5. Flying Off - choose 75 books to read

For extra hard challenges:

6. Hoarder - choose 76-125 books to read
7. Buried - choose 126-200 books to read

I am aiming for Level 2: 15 books to read. I will post the books I am going to read at the beginning of the year and review them on my blog as I finish them.

I would love to know what challenge you choose and the books you are going to read. Go forward and read because it is FUN. I dare you!

Bat Girl - A Little Late

Yes, the turkey has been shot and I'm posting pics of me in my

Halloween costume. I promised I would post pics of me as

Bat Girl so here they are my friends. Scary, huh?

Better late than never. Got to keep my promise.

I feel silly posting pics of myself, but I really enjoyed dressing up
for Halloween. It was fun. Wonder what I will be next year?

Thanks-A-Giving

Last night I reflected on those things that I am thankful for and came up with a few I would like to share.

1. My God for giving me talents and a really good life. I couldn't do anything without Him.

2. My parents for their support and unconditional love.

3. My family for always being here for me and listening to my blabbing.

4. My friends for being the best ever.

5. For a good job and great coworkers.

6. For trials - I would not be who I am without them.

7. And for the life-altering blessing of a really good idea for a book. Before this year, I would never have imagined I would aspire to be an author. Now it is all I think about and what I want to be for the rest of my life.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Thank you for following my blog!

Published...

Author Joe Konrath said, "There's a word for a writer who never gives up... published." This is what every author, aspiring or successful, essentially wishes, hopes, and desires to happen. They want to be successful at their craft. Possibly even wants the monetary rewards for their labor (I know I do *wink wink*). But, more importantly, I think authors hunger for their idea to be heard. Ultimately, authors want others to devour the idea that has plagued them for months, years, maybe even decades. The countless hours spent developing their idea requires that glorified end result—being published. Aspiring author, Jenn Johansson, said, “This is not an easy industry. This is not an easy profession. And we choose it anyway.” Yes, authors choose this difficult path because of the burning fire within them to craft their idea until it becomes a reality—reality because their idea, published or not, is acutely real to them. The characters are as palpable as their next door neighbor’s dog. The story is alive with blood flowing through its veins. Harry Potter would never have been born if J.K. Rowling never had the idea and never put it on paper. I believe that Harry Potter, Bilbo Baggins, Katniss Everdeen and all the other countless book characters are just as real as we are, only in a figurative sense. The stories are real in the creativity of our minds. This is why authors write their idea until it flourishes into a story. And then they work hard to get it published. Publishing allows the story to not only be alive in the author’s mind, but in all the minds of those who read it.
The process an author goes through is not a perfect science because it does not come easily all the time. However, writing is enjoyable and rewarding when you see your story alive through the ink on a page.
I write this to encourage you to read, but more importantly, when you read, remember the patient process of the author who wrote it. Remember their story lives for you because it lived for them.
I wish, hope, and desire that, one day, the idea for my novel will become just as real for you as it is for me. There is one word I will never cease to work toward… published.

Stages of Bono

When I was in high school I drew a funny stick figure drawing of Bono. Actually, there were four stick figure Bono's—each progressively drawn with shorter hair. I coined it, "The Stages of Bono." Yes, stick figures because my art skills are so rockin. I wish I still had the pic, but it sadly has fallen prey to my shuffle of stuff. Below is my new and improved version of "The Stages of Bono."

Ok, his hair started off shorter.

The "Unforgettable Fire," oh, yeah, mullet.

The attractive long style.

And the occasional ponytail.

ZooTV brought on the chop of the hair and Bono dons the sunglasses.

Popmart brings on the buzz—the side we never thought we’d see.

A little longer now, granted I drew the pic just after the Popmart tour.
BTW, love the "Pop" album. Everyone should.

And just for kicks, Pope Bono arrives.

And last but not least in the Stages of Bono tour,
a little longer hair cut than the buzz and totally cute.
Sunglasses still in style for Mr. Paul Hewson.

I love Bono! Can I meet you please? Hehe!

Adventure with the Boys

A couple weeks ago, I babysat my three nephews. When I arrived, nephew #2 had built a tiny fort by the fridge. After my brother and sister-in-law left, the fort building continued, only all three boys were getting in on the fun. Almost all of the towels and blankets in the house were being used. I could have been the mean aunt who said, "You're making a mess. Clean it up." But I decided to be the totally-awesome-aunt-who-lets-her-cute-nephews-have-fun-doing-something-that-makes-them-happy-but-makes-a-mess. Of course, they had ridiculous amounts of fun, and I did too. A couple times I patted nephew #3 on the bum, which turned into him patting me on the bum at every chance he got. I thought that was a bad thing to have taught him. Anyway, I turned out playing the mommy dog and they were my little pups, and the fort was their doggy house. After about 45 minutes of playing Fort/Puppies, nephew #1 decided it was time to watch "Blues Clues." The fort was left without being cleaned up. I shrugged it off thinking I'll make them clean it up later.

Then came the moment I was expecting when nephew #1 said, "It's time for dessert."
I replied, "You'll have to clean up the fort to get into the fridge."
He said, "Oh," and sat back down to watch some more of the show.
I laughed inside thinking man we should make forts in front of the fridge more often. They won't want dessert if they have to clean up to get into the fridge. His little sweet tooth (he takes after his Aunt Julia) started biting about twenty minutes later, so we cleaned up the fort. Well, we took down the additions made on to the original part of the fort because nephew #2 didn’t want to take down his creation. It was so not in the way—sort of—so it stayed in tact. We had dessert and started watching "Scooby Doo". Soon thereafter, it was bedtime—at least for the two little ones. Nephew #3 was in bed, so it was on to getting nephew #2 in bed. The only problem was he really wanted to sleep in his fort. He snuggled himself inside it to where I would have to pull him out, and I would not have that. Luckily the power of distraction persuaded him out. I told him we could get his trains and he could sleep with them. He loves trains. He came out of his little fort quite happily. I got him to bed and, of course, let nephew #1 stay up way past his bedtime. It was a Friday anyway... I’m the coolest aunt ever—outside of my sister who is a pretty cool aunt too. Now, just if I could have babysat my 4-month-old niece too—the three boys’ little sister. That would have been total awesomeness. Ok, it gave me time to spoil the three boys, and that's what being an aunt is all about, right? I love my nephews and niece. They are priceless and super cool too!

Young Johnny Depp - A Short Story by Julia King

        My dream started with my sister and I sitting on the stairs in the foyer of a newly built colonial house clothed with white siding and baby blue shutters. The stairs were shinny and still smelled of varnish. We stared at a television that was playing a movie. A few of us were in the room awaiting something—something we didn’t know about. It was a dream so we didn’t need any reason to be there. The others in the room had no faces. They were just filling space in the recesses of the dream. My sister took notice of a boy featured in the movie.

“That’s Johnny Depp, only younger!” she exclaimed.

“Really?” I replied after rushing up to the screen to press my finger on the young Johnny’s face.

“It is him. Is he singing?” The movies scene scanned over a choir group, stilling on Johnny’s face as he sang a beautiful tune. It was like the young Christian Bale singing in Empire of the Sun only not as angelically.

“It looks like him,” she answered.

“Wow, he was even cute as a little boy with his chubby cheeks.” I finally removed my hand from the screen of the TV—a little dust clung to my finger in which I rubbed off on my pant leg. “Wouldn’t it be great to meet him, sis?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that.”

Seconds later, the windowed door with lace curtains opened. A mom with long, brown hair and a young boy, no older than twelve, walked into the room. The boy was fussing and causing all sorts of problems for the woman.

“Let’s go, Mom. I don’t want to run errands anymore. Take me home, so I can finish my haunted house. Now!” he screamed.

“I will take you home when I am done!” She looked at him with little patience and shook her head in out direction. “He will be the death of me.”

I leaned toward my sister and whispered in her ear, “Is that who I think it is?”

The boy was now impatiently waiting for his mom who had disappeared into a back room. He kicked his sneakered foot on the hardwood floor, leaving a smudge.

I responded in awe, “I think so. Its Johnny only younger.”

As nonchalantly as possible, I shuffled over to where he stood. I looked at a vase of red roses that sat on a half circle table with three legs. “What’s your name?” I asked the boy.

“Johnny Depp. Why do you ask?” He sneered at me.

“Just wondering.” I smiled. “Are you an actor?”

“No!" He stuck his tongue out at me. "I would like to be putting the finishing touches on my haunted house, but my Mom,” he pointed to the other room with an accusing finger, “is taking her time getting home.”

Still in awe and gawking at the young boy, I suggested, “How about we go see it?” I eyed my sister, wanting approval to go. She nodded and gawked just as much as I was at the young Johnny. “My question is why are you making a haunted house in December?”

“Why not?” the young Johnny asked. I shrugged, knowing it was just fine to make a haunted house in December. It was a dream, and in dreams things automatically make sense.

We left without any thought of waiting for his mom. It was as if she had never existed. By the time we got to young Johnny’s house, his haunted house was astonishingly finished.

After a torturous first time through the haunted house, we exited it scared out of our wits. In actuality, the haunted house was whimsical and funny, but to us, it was catastrophically terrifying. When the multi-colored clowns popped out at us, they were smiling, not wanting to rip our heads off.

After walking out of the haunted house, the young Johnny demanded, “You need to go through it again.”

We complied even though we dared not go through again. Once out of it, he demanded the same thing of us, so we complied. After multiple times being scared silly at the rather funny haunted house, we finally wanted to leave, and no longer felt like gawking at Johnny anymore.

He turned on us. He told us that we could never leave. We were his captives and would need to travel the haunted house again and again. FOREVER. We tried to get out of the windows with no luck. We tried getting out of the front and back door, but Johnny always got in the way. There was always something up his sleeve blocking our way from egress.

Just once, he let his guard down, and we escaped through the front door. We ran out of the cul-de-sac only to be found by our little friend, Johnny.

“Where are you going? Don’t you like the haunted house anymore?” He gawked at us now.

“No, we love it,” I lied.

My sister kicked me in the shin. “No, Johnny, we hate it. We want to leave. Just let us go. Now!” she yelled.

“Alright, I admit, we are tired and want to go home. You are pretty much creeping us out kid.” I tried smiling at him to work on his possible softer side.

“But, you are the King Sisters. I have wanted to meet you for, like, forever.” He stomped his foot. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“What?” We both coughed out together. “The King Sisters?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “The King Sisters. I have watched you in TV and movies for, like, ever. You are famous.” He then was no longer a little boy, he was the older, one and only, Johnny Depp, and now he was graveling at our feet.

“Um,” I said, “We aren’t famous. You are?”

“No, I’m not.” He banged his hand hard on the gravel road. "Ouch," he said. He gazed at us with admiring eyes. "A little pain is worth it for the two of you."

“Don’t you remember 21 Jump Street, Edward Scissorhands, Benny and Joon, Chocolat?” I questioned him.

His chin dropped and a little drool spilled out. “What?”

“Pirates of the Caribbean?” I asked. He shrugged only to drool some more. “You can’t remember the movies you’ve starred in.”

“What? Did you say something?” He bent over kissing our shoes. “Oh, sorry, I’m dirtying your shoes. Let me get a tissue and wipe my slobber off.” He ran back to the house.

Looking at each other in bewilderment, we shot off running like mad women. Graciously, my red car suddenly appeared on the street corner with my keys in the ignition. We hopped in car, I put the car into first gear, pumped the gas, and we sped off. I looked in the mirror to see him running after us, with a pad of paper and a pen in his hand.

I could hear him screaming something inaudible. It sounded like, “Wait, just let me get your autographs. Please.” We turned the corner.

“Wow, that was weird. Us, famous,” my sister said.

“Yeah, that would be a trip.” I stopped at the red light, and looked over at the car that just pulled up. The car's window rolled down, and I heard the passenger saying something to me.

“Did you need something,” I said as I rolled the window down by pressing on the button on the armrest.

“Are you Julia King? Oh, my gosh, it’s the King Sisters. Look.” He punched his buddy in the arm, “It’s the King Sisters. They are so hot! Can we have your autographs?”

My sister and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. The light turned green, so I gunned the car. The wheels screeched and we were off. I could smell burning rubber in my nose.

I woke up laughing. “Wow that was a strange dream. I should write a short story about it. 
So the blog has been written, some of the dream has been altered to make it more entertaining, and I am still sick with a cold. Maybe Johnny will read this one day and get a laugh out of it, as I hope you did.

The Sad Tale of the Running Nose

My week has been a bit rocky thus far. Well, the rockiness started on Saturday afternoon. While editing my novel, my nose started dripping. By the time I went to bed that night, I knew the evil cold had taken root.
Here’s how I've spent my time the last three days:
Sunday: slept, slept, slept and slept some more. Could not sleep at all Sunday night. I ended up reading almost 100 pages of the first book in “The Mortal Instruments” series by Cassandra Clare. Good book! I’d recommend it.
Monday: Called in sick to work, attempted to sleep with not much success. Went to the doctor with the intent of getting a shot in my bum to make me better super fast. Got the said shot, started to leave the doctor’s office, luckily sat down before I passed out right in the waiting room, and then waited until the stars stopped floating. Totally scary! I thought, how in the devil am I gonna drive home? Also, I was burning up and about to cry. Once, I got my bearings straight, I called my dad to drive me home, cause there was no way for me to safely drive. Yes, that's the second time, in that very doctor’s office, I've almost passed out because of getting a shot. Maybe I can start a record? Anyway, now that I look back on the experience, I really wish I could have been a fly on the wall watching the event unravel. I was probably white as a sheet and looked drugged. The rest of the day accrued many more sleepless attempts, neck throbbing because I had to double up the pillows in order to not drown in my own . . . I’ll leave that up to your own imagination. Hint: It’s a 4 letter word starting with an “S”, ending with a “T” and an “NO” in between. So, I spent most of last night watching X-Files episodes because I didn’t want to inadvertently die in my sleep for the above-mentioned reason.
Tuesday (Today): Didn’t go to work again. Luckily from 6:30 a.m. – 10:30 a.m. I slept peacefully. I visited the chiropractor in hopes he could get my poor neck back in order from the crappy sleeping situation. I ate and slept a bit and read more of “The Mortal Instruments".
I indulge you, or maybe bore you with this sob story of mine for good reason. Why, oh why, can’t there be an incubator that induces sleep so I can sleep away my cold symptoms until I'm in tip top shape. If anyone knows of such technology or is developing such a miracle system of getting over a cold, please, oh please, let me know. Wouldn’t that be lovely to sleep away a cold? Wake up all better and not need to go through the sleepless nights, blowing your nose, feeling achy, and having a fever.
Anyway, I am still under the weather with high hopes that I’ll be feeling awesome way soon. Cross you fingers and send me sleep well vibes tonight cause I really want to sleep. I even bought a humidifier to help me sleep. Much love to you all and prayers that you won’t get bitten by the evil and dreaded cold bug.

Polished Perfection, Soon...

I captured a pretty photo of Mount Timpanogos in Utah on my way to work the other morning. Snow is here my friends. Thought I would share it with you. Enjoy! Now on to my recent thoughts about writing…
I’ve been mad about editing the past week, can’t get enough of it; although, I wish I had more time for it. I love how editing takes something good and forms it into something more pliable, more sensical (Is that even a word? I like it!). It makes it beautiful. Obviously it isn’t spectacular yet, but it can only sore to a polished perfection. Something important I’ve learned lately, critiques are the only way to improve your writing. Ever since I’ve had a couple people edit my manuscript, it’s helped me to see how I can improve as a writer. Absorbing the advice, I see more clearly how to sculpt my novel as I edit. Over the past months, I’ve been picking apart what other authors do in their work. This exercise has helped me improve my own writing, because novels, in a way, are the blueprints to writing. I see what accomplished authors have done, how they write, or how they develop the plot/characters; and I grasp a better understanding of writing. It sometimes distracts from reading, because instead of devouring the story, I'm devouring the writing. For example, if you want to learn more about science, you ask a scientist. If you want to know more about writing, you ask an author. If there's any advice I, an aspiring writer, can offer others, it’s to have others critique your work. It's the only way to hone in your writing skills. I know 20 years from now, I’ll still be learning how to be a better writer. I hope with asking others for help, and learning from experience, I will improve all the time.

Parisian Perfection

While chit-chatting with my new coworker, we found out traveling is a common love of ours. After discussing our love of Paris, I mentioned I’m writing a novel set in Paris. I answered the normal questions about my book like: What kind of book is it? What’s it about? After some further discussion about my novel, he brought up this cool site to visit there. It's called Sainte-Chapelle. The structure boasts colorful stained-glass windows—the eye catching marvel of the Gothic structure. Sainte-Chapelle is near Notre Dame and Pont Neuf. I hope to venture back to Paris, so I can visit Sainte-Chapelle and other attractions I didn’t grace with my presence during my first trip to the city of lights and love. Check out the following links to learn about Sainte-Chapelle and see more photos. I’m sure you’ll fall in love.

http://sainte-chapelle.monuments-nationaux.fr/en/
http://www.sacred-destinations.com/france/paris-sainte-chapelle

Conquering the Blessed Beast

Just an update on my last post. . . I said that I was going through a “Revising a Chapter in my Novel War”. Well, I conquered the blessed beast. It bent to my will. Perhaps, I bent to its will (Hmm, a thought to ponder. Maybe I was getting in its way). Sometimes you need to step away from a difficult revision, come back later, and then typically it will come together beautifully and better than it would have been otherwise. I love it when that happens. I win! I win! I win! Well, I won nothing but the reassurance that a chapter is better than it was, and I can move on to the next chapter.
So, I feel like I have so little time to devote to editing with working full-time and taking a class. I can’t wait to be out of the class, I’ll have more time to devote to editing. Praise the day when I'm done with class. French is way tough (ie: I despise masculine and feminine words). Just beam the language into my mind, please (said with a pouty-puppy-dog-you-can’t-deny-my-wish-face). I audited French because my novel is set in Paris. I thought it would be helpful for the writing process. It has been helpful, but honestly, I’m so done with school. I have my degree and that is so enough for me. What the devil was I thinking taking a class again? Remind me never to do that to myself again. NEVER!

Weekend Work, Isn't that Contradictory?

Today has officially been too exhausting. Started off the day feeding the neighbor's dogs (I have been dog sitting for the last few days), getting a really intense massage (I almost cried), helped clean a building, mowed up the leaves in my parents yard because my dad is out-of-town, played with the said dogs for a bit (oh, how do I love dogs, let me count the ways. JK), did my laundry, and ordered some new tires for my car so I don't die on the snowy and icy roads this winter (tires won't be in until Tuesday or Wednesday). Wow, that was a ridiculously long sentence. Need to go to the store soon and just maybe take a wee nap. This evening is devoted completely to editing. I really tried to edit last night, but my mom and I started watching a movie, and editing flew right out the window. We watched "Trapped in Paradise." Such a roll on the floor and bring me to tears funny movie. How could I pay attention to anything else? Really. Plus, I am in a pickle. The part of my novel I'm revising is just fighting with me. It just does not want to polish. Don't know what to do with it. I will force it to comply though. It has to bend to my will! Wish me luck. Anyway, I hope that everyone is having a splendid autumnal weekend. It sure is pretty outside with the leaves changing colors. Ciao!

Song for the Day

Imogen Heap's song "First Train Home" came up on my Pandora station today. I pretty much fell in love with it. I know I've heard it before and know she played it at her concert I went to a few months ago, but just don't remember the song. It was like I had heard it for the first time. Its like when you haven't watched a movie for years, and you can't remember it at all. This is how I feel about this song today. Listen to it, and love it. Enjoy!

Giggle for the Day

This is something I hope you'll get a kick out of:

Go to Google Maps

Click on Get Directions

Search directions from Japan to China

Now for the punch line - Look at direction point #43.

Tehehe! Hope that got you giggling!

New Mantra

"A published author is an amateur who didn't quit. Don't quit."
I found the quote on author and agent Mandy Hubbard's website:

http://www.mandyhubbard.com/

This is my new mantra. Thanks, Mandy for such a great saying! BTW, her books look really good. Check em out!

Dreams to Ideas

As a prelude to this post, an explanation must be given. I have seriously twisted, vibrant dreams. They sometimes stick with me for days; sometimes I wish they wouldn’t. Occasionally my dreams make me exhausted all day. Sometimes, they are all about me being a character in “24” (yeah Jack) or “Stargate SG1” (yeah Jack). Wow, both those TV shows have a Jack as the lead character. Tangent, anyway…
Having expounded upon that, my novel was inspired by a dream I had back in December 2009. I couldn't get the dream out of my head for weeks. I told my parents and sister the dream’s content, saying I would like to write a novel about it. I didn’t think I actually would start writing it. One night, I was trying to sleep, but my body would not succumb to the rest I desperately desired. The dream popped back into my head as it had numerous times over the past couple of weeks. I gave up on sleep to start formulating the plot. That sleepless night, I had the end of the novel completely outlined in my mind. The following day, I turned on my bright green Dell laptop and began the eager process of typing away the idea that had plagued me for some weeks. The idea still plagues me—the gift of being an author. I wrote the end first, then the beginning, and then filled in the rest as I wrote. It took me five months, some writer’s block, and long evenings and weekends to complete the rough draft. Now I’m working on the technical process of editing.
I tell the background of how my novel became a reality in order to offer you a way to come up with writing ideas. Pull from your dreams. Really. Sometimes the oddity of dreams can become great ideas for writing material. I have another book idea that derived from a bunch of my reoccurring dreams. Just last night I had a dream that I have toyed around with today for another book. Keep a notebook by your bed just in case you wake up from a dream that is brilliant, so you can jot it down. You don’t want to forget it.
I hope that this will give you a way to get ideas for writing. Welcome to the world of an author—in that world you just need an idea you can run with. Make sure you run with it, otherwise, you’ll never know that 300 pages later you’ll have a novel. Of course, a novel that needs lots of tweaking and editing, but hopefully in the end, you’ll have a finished product. I am eager for that day to come very soon!

The Incident with the Car Heater...

So, it was a bit chilly this morning, so I had my car’s heater on full blast and at the highest temperature. Alright, I’ll admit it wasn’t that cold, but I really like the warmth. At times it did get a little toasty inside the car so I’d turn the heat down. Sometimes I’d switch the heat just to my face and sometimes just to my feet. By the time I arrived at work, my legs were super hot, temperature-wise of course. I do have hot legs though… JK Anyway, I didn’t realize just how hot they’d become until I looked down at my left foot—it was bright red. Of course, being myself, I started giggling wildly and had to show my boss and coworker. I have to share such monumentally awesome things with others. I just can’t hold anything in or I’ll burst. So, I took a picture of my feet and thought this would make a seriously weird and random post. The car heater induced redness isn’t super noticeable, but look closely and you’ll notice that my left foot is a different color than the right foot. By the way, my ankles look fat in the picture. I insist that my ankles aren’t as fat as shown. I blame it on my phone’s camera. And if you notice, I have a slight bruise on my left ankle—a freak accident with a hedgehog and a pickle. Seriously…Just kidding! Well, it sure is fun to be so easily entertained. I hope that this has entertained you too!