Our weekend, by the numbers

Number of laps of the outside of our house done by Thor in his imitation of Iniesta's celebration of Spain's winning World Cup goal: 1

Number of shirts removed as part of said imitation: 1

Number of laps of our house done by my children in imitation of their father: 2

Number of clothing items removed during laps: all of them

Number of laps done naked: 3

Number of laps done wearing each other's clothing: 1

Number of laps done wearing underwear on their heads and screaming with giggles while their father chases them, trying to corral them into the bath: 1

Number of neighborhood block parties we are likely to be invited to this summer: sigh.

The House at Jacqui's Corner

In which I compare myself to A.A. Milne.

You probably know that all the Winnie the Pooh stories started as bedtime stories for A.A. Milne's own kids. Haven't you wondered what the bedtime stories in other writers' houses are like? They must be fabulous, yes? Full of art and talent? Of course they are. Witness.

1. WHEN COOKIE MONSTER MET A COOKIE
by Jacqui (for Tink, enacted using her two favorite stuffed animals)

One day me was walking along when me saw cookie. It look delicious. It all brown with honey dripping on it. Me knew it was Black Bear's cookie, because me know Black Bear loves honey.

Me know it wrong to eat Black Bear's cookie. But cookie so delicious! Me look at cookie. Me look at Black Bear. Me look at cookie. Me look at Black Bear. Me know friends most important thing in world.

Nom nom nom nom nom. Forget you Black Bear. Nom nom nom.


2. THE FAMILY, take 1
by The Mighty Thor

Once upon a time, there was a family. There was a beautiful, handsome and strong and smart father. There was an okay mother. And there were two kids, the Lady Piggybottoms and Sir Squigglimadoo.

(collapses in laughter at own joke, unable to finish story)


3. THE FAMILY, take 2
by Tink

Once upon a time, there was a family. There was a pretty and smart mother and a pretty and smart daughter. There was a hairy ape father. And a bear. STOP! MOM! MAKE HIM STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF!!!!!!! (nails brother with Black Bear)


4. THE FAMILY, take 3
by The Mighty Thor

As I was saying, there was this family with the parents and Lady Piggybottoms and Sir Squigglimadoo. They lived in a beautiful castle in Michigan. And then one day a Cheerios monster ate them all up. Nom nom nom nom nom.

The end.

My children have no hope of normalcy, I fear.

Sonnet #116: Ode to the Mighty Thor

In which I confess to The Mighty Thor, who loves me anyway. There should be a line in there about spending all my time blogging, but Shakespeare failed to anticipate the need for that in our time.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it dirty laundry finds,
Or when it notes dustbusters filled with goo.
Oh, no! It is an ever-fixèd mark*
That looks on tantrums and is never shaken;
Through waist-high grass it mows well after dark,
Though at 5:30,** both the kids awaken.
Our diapers, pipes, and shingles all have leaks,
Which in inspector’s searches did not rise;
The boxes will be closed and packed for weeks,
But bear with me, e’en as I do revise.
I swore I’d work, but must confess, my One:
I never writ, nor errands did I run.

* Not unlike the ever-fixèd mark shoes make on walls when hucked them in frustration
** That’s a.m., people.

You Can't Go Wrong With Dripping Letters

Today's episode of No, Seriously. Just Try It. is brought to you by The Mighty Thor who reports, "Lately, I am thinking about book covers."*

I worked at a bookstore for five years. I shelved hundreds of books for kids and adults. I know about book jacket marketing and book jacket dynamics. I know that, as The Mighty Thor said just now, "the cover doesn't even have to represent what's in the book; if it's a cool cover, people will buy it." Despite all this, I am still a sucker for a good book cover.

For today, though, I want you to forget that book jackets are marketing devices. I want you to think of your cover as one visual image encapsulating your whole book. It needs to convey the title, the mood you want to set, the one mental picture you want people to have as they start reading, and maybe a snapshot of your setting -- all in one image.

With that in mind, design your book cover. No, seriously. Just try it. I don't care if you can't draw. Lay it out. What goes where? Cut things out of magazines if you have to. Steal pictures of kids off other people's blogs.** What is your title? What font will it be in? What scene is so pivotal it can represent the whole book?

The hope, of course, is that having to answer these questions will crystallize what's important to you in your book. Also, if the cover's done, it'll be just like the book is already written, right?

The Mighty Thor did have some suggestions:
1. Dust sprinkled across the background (think Philip Pullman).
2. Killer zombies killing someone.
3. Cave trolls. In fact, Thor has announced that he's going to write a book and the whole thing is going to be an ode to cave trolls.
4. "You can't go wrong with dripping letters."
5. He will under no circumstances buy your book if the cover features stills of the actors in the film version.

So, with all that in mind, what does your cover look like?

* These are the kind of conversations we have all the time in our house.
** Not really, okay?

Space Chicken, Intergalactic Milk Delivery Poultry

In which I eventually get to my new favorite technique for getting unstuck while writing, I promise. But first, a word on zombies and poultry.

My husband* would take issue with my last post. He says you can't have a checklist of what makes a great novel without one of the following:

1. zombies
2. nanotechnology (preferably a swarm of tiny robots gone bad)

He would probably also grudgingly accept the following:

1. fire
2. defenestration
3. shape shifters
4. a biological villain, such as a supervirus**

In fact, whenever I write something new, my husband inquires which of the above it contains. He is always disappointed. He would like the social conflicts in my classroom oriented picture books to be more often resolved through clone wars.***

Now, Tinkerbell loves my books. But, she REALLY loves the stories her dad tells her in the bathtub, which revolve around the exciting adventures of Space Chicken, Intergalactic Milk Delivery Poultry, whose efforts to bring fresh cold milk to all of our universe's children (alien and otherwise) are constantly thwarted by circumstance and occasionally goofy bad guys.

The fact is, the Space Chicken stories are fun. Fun to make up, fun to hear.

Which bring us to my new favorite technique for getting unstuck. You know those times when you have something to write, or to revise, and just isn't coming? It just looms over you, dreaded and humongous? Your house is spotless, your bills are paid, and you've created hand-made paper scrapbooks for your pets -- anything to avoid putting pen to paper? Here is your assignment:

Choose one item from the lists above and use it. I am not joking. I don't care if you're writing an 18th century romance; have the lovers attacked by zombies. Make the mama bunny toss the baby bunny out the window.

I am willing to bet three things:

1. It will be much easier to write the scene (or whatever) than however you're trying it
2. It will be much more fun to write as well
   
3. Even though you can't use the scene like this, you'll find something, some little tidbit, that you can use. And hopefully having that little bit will make the whole thing start to come together.
   

Let me know. And if you need more, try here, which is what inspired my sharing this.

* My husband is actually quite well-read and enjoys many books without any robots. Just not as much, I think.
** Preferably one that speeds through the air and is neurologically devastating so that our hero can be a pediatric neurologist with a penchant for research and several letters in track...
*** Also, he would also like me to refer to him in future posts as "The Mighty Thor."