Taking a quick break-within-a-break to share the breaking news as it, uh, breaks. (Clearly, it's obvious why I need some quiet time in the writing cave. Carry on.)
Upcoming:
There will be a contest announced next week involving this:
Curious? Intrigued? Can't wait? Stay tuned!
Ongoing:
Last chance to sign up to be a part of the arc tour hosted by Wastepaper Prose and PageTurners! Sign ups close at the end of the week (tomorrow) so clicken to join the parade!
If you miss that opportunity, know that my I ♥ Book Bloggers Giveaway is still going on, should you want a chance to get a signed arc, 10 bookmarks and a bit of secret swag. There are arcs waiting to find good homes. While others will be at BEA and GoodReads and Netgalley soon, here's your chance to get Book One of the Twixt first.
Aaaand amusing:
I got the following tweet yesterday:
@dawnmetcalf I wondered if there was an excerpt of Indelible yet available. The narration, is it in the first person singular?
So I thought I'd answer here:
Alas, unlike every other YA author on the planet, I tend not to write in 1st person POV, but in 3rd. Indelible is not in 3rd person omniscient as I did with Luminous, but 3rd person focused, specifically on the main character, Joy Malone. I have stories which I've written in 1st person, but I was more comfortable with this one being in 3rd. I never thought this was unusual until I started writing specifically for a YA/MG market (something that sprang up over the course of my being a YA to a NA to a whatever-I-am-now [My brain rebels at calling myself an "adult" despite the fact that I have a house, a job, a spouse and two small people who look vaguely like my husband and call me "Mom."]) and people started to remark on it. I guess this makes me stand out in the crowd? Trust me, if you ever met me in person, I tend to stand out anyway.
As far as the excerpt, I'm happy to oblige with this exclusive clip from INDELIBLE:
JOY MARCHED QUICKLY down the hall, leading Inq away from the lunchroom and other people.
“What are you doing here?” Joy asked under her breath. Salted soy butter stuck in her throat.
“Just visiting,” Inq said. “I thought I’d bring you this.” She held up the laminated thumbs-up sign, its key chain dangling off her palm: Mr. Soares’s missing hall pass. Joy snatched it back. Inq grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” she said. Checking the halls and the doors and the wall-mounted cameras, Joy retreated from the more congested parts of the school.
“Isn’t there somewhere you need to be?” Joy whispered.
“Need is such a human word.” Inq pouted. “Want and need are so subjective. I don’t find them very useful.” Joy turned a corner. Inq followed. “Where are you going?”
“My locker,” Joy improvised, hoping that no one could see her talking to herself.
“Well, that does sound important.” Joy bit back her retort. Inq sounded bored, and she was in no mood for bored Inq, which promised to be both dangerous and highly annoying. Inq hadn’t been too happy when they’d last been at Graus Claude’s, and Joy was still feeling emotional after her conversation with Stef. Prolonged exposure did not bode well. Joy picked up the pace, skidding to a halt in front of her locker.
“What do you want?” she whispered over her shoulder.
Inq tipped her pixie face to the side as Joy dialed her combination. “Well, I just thought....”
Joy pushed up the handle and darkness slammed down.
Stunned, Joy glanced around in the heartbeat that followed, the flash in her eye a weak firefly in
sudden shadow. She squeezed the locker handle. It was solid and, presumably, real. She was in her school hallway, instantly transported into night. The world was coated in a thick film of heavy, brooding gray, but it wasn’t nighttime. The few people between classes were stuck where they stood. A dropped pen hung in midair. The hall clock hands frozen at 11:47.
A thick, curving line held a concentrated darkness, as if a circle had been burned with gasoline on the floor. Joy was trapped inside a bubble—everything beyond it as still as a held breath.
Except Inq.
Inq struggled to her feet. She looked almost as shocked as Joy felt. Her dark, colorless eyes blinked rapidly as she frowned.
“Joy?” Inq called, her voice warped as if underwater, echoing weirdly although she was barely six inches away. “Are you okay?”
Joy waited for the sound of her words to fade before answering.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice sounded normal to her. “I think so.” She let go of the locker door, but nothing changed. The weight of the gray silence was like a deepwater dive. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Inq confessed. The sound seemed mismatched, penetrating the bubble a long second after her mouth moved. “It’s a trap.”
“A trap?” Joy stretched out to grab Inq through the veil, but hit something not quite solid that sparked. Joy hissed, clenching the feeling of electric ant bites from her fingers. Pain lit the fear inside her. She stared at Inq. “Get me out.”
“I don’t know...” Inq sounded upset, worried, for the first time Joy had known her. And now was a bad time to start. “I don’t think I can.”
“Yes, you can!” Joy said. “Get me out! Try!” She held out her hand as if Inq might dare to take it, but the Goth girl shook her head and splayed her fingers as if she were waving goodbye. Joy’s heart thudded wildly. “Ink...”
“Don’t call him,” Inq warned. “He’d appear inside with you, and we need to be sure we can get you both out first.” She glanced over the fiery line, her mouth tight and grim. “Hang on.”
;-)
And, lastly, I leave you with this smile for the rest of the day. It never fails to crack me up!
*pulls blankets over head*
*pretends to be a turtle-turtle*
*resumes typing*
