Contest Opens Today! Win a Blog Redesign from me and a crit from agent Victoria Marini

Hey all! The contest opens today! And I have big news..some great prizes to sweeten the deal:

Grand Prize will be
A five-page critique from my agent extraordinaire, Victoria Marini, AND
a blog banner redesign from me.

Second Prize will be
A banner redesign and a signed copy of COMPROMISED, by Heidi Ayarbe, swag and a signed arc from author Meredith Zeitlin's forthcoming book: FRESHMAN YEAR AND OTHER UNNATURAL DISASTERS

So come back Wednesday for entry rules!

Blog Redesign!

Hey, what the heck? It's a new year, same me, but I wanted to put more focus on the other things I do besides write, such as graphic design and illustration for children's books. I'm also thinking forward---I'm going to be having an interview with the wonderful HEIDI AYARBE, where she and I discuss self-promotion for authors, reveal her brand new website design (that I did for her) and have a contest! Details to come.

Also, pssst.....I'm going to be announcing some exciting news next week. Lips sealed for now!


Here are some links to my other blog header designs to get you excited for my blog design giveaway contest:

Teen Writers' Bloc with the my talented friends, Dhonielle Clayton, Corey Heydu and Sona Charaipotra

http://www.teenwritersbloc.com/ 


And here is Heidi's redesigned blog:

http://heidiayarbe.blogspot.com/

Oh, and I designed this one, too, for author of Possession, Elana Johnson:

http://elanajohnson.blogspot.com/

Book Review of DIES IRAE and interview with author Christine Fonseca

School psychologist by day, critically acclaimed YA and nonfiction author by night, Christine Fonseca believes that writing is a great way to explore humanity. Her debut YA Gothic series, The Requiem Series, including DIES IRAE and LACRIMOSA, examines the role of redemption, sacrifice and love. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she can be sipping too many skinny vanilla lattes at her favorite coffee house or playing around on Facebook and Twitter. Catch her daily thoughts about writing and life on her blog.

Some sacrifices should never be made—even for love.

Mikayel lives by one rule—obey the orders of the angelic Council at all costs. But when he and his friends, Azza and Demi, are sent to Earth as teenagers, following the rules is more difficult than they expected.

Being human isn’t the only problem facing the three angels. Unbeknownst to the Council, demonic activity is on the rise, threatening to break a tenuous peace that has existed for a millennia.

Caught in a struggle for power with unseen demonic forces, and fighting against his rising emotional, Mikayel must now decide how many rules he is willing to break to save his friends, a decision that could reignite an ancient war and will threaten the only thing that matters to the angels, the survival of humanity. 

My Review of DIES IRAE:

DIES IRAE  ( for Kindle – From Amazon, Epub – From Barnes and Noble, Pdf – from Lybrary.com) is a novella—short, exhilarating and packed with emotion. I read it in literally one night, mainly because I loved the writing and characters—but what I really love the most is the visceral emotions pulsing not very far under the skin of her fascinating characters. This is not surprising since Christine is a school psychologist who has written numerous nonfiction books about gifted individuals (link here). Emotions are her stock and trade.

But what I found so gripping about this book was the timeless and epic quality of the story. Set in the distant past, in a vaguely Greek or Middle Eastern locale, the story thrums with a sense of mythic foreboding. Right away, the reader gets the sense that they are about to become witnesses to the cataclysmic event with seismic consequences. The tale is told from the point of view of two brothers in arms, angels Mikayel and Azza, both incredibly compelling and conflicted characters with deep ties and heartbreaking desires. They choices they make ultimately forces an upheaval to their way of life with devastating results.

Christine writes with a terse style that made these two larger than life individuals blaze from the pages in crackling detail. I don’t want to give too much away, but you get the sense from this book that nothing is ever black and white, that the good carry a seed of evil in them and the evil, a seed of good.

If anything, I wish the book was longer. That the build up to the crazy thrilling climax was a little slower and more layered. But this is a novella, so I’m okay with that. DIES IRAE a fascinating parable, vivid and gut-wrenching, and I am so excited for the next books in the series! Way to go, Christine! I’ve been your friend a long time, but now I am a FAN!

Interview with Christine Fonseca

Tell us a bit about your background, why you write, your publishing history, etc. 

I used to think that I started writing recently, that I never had planned on it before. But, the more I think about, the more memories of my college days pour forward, the more I realize that I “pictured” myself as a novelist forever in some ways. Now, I write because it is how I process my own emotions, and bring other emotions to my readers.

I originally started out writing fiction, crafting a novel I foolishly thought I’d just “get published” and yea, that would be it. HA! That did NOT happen. In fact, that novel was shelved. As were the next two. While I crafted a fourth novel to query, I decided to fulfill a different dream and write my nonfiction books related to the social and emotional needs of gifted kids. This book was quickly picked up and sold. So, my career definitely started with my nonfiction. Another book was proposed and sold, and my future as a nonfiction author was solidified. Fast forward six very miserable months and I was still pushing to make the jump into fiction. I had no agent, my querying process was not resulting in an agent, and yea…I was ready to give up. Completely.

Fortunately, I opened myself up to all potential avenues of publication and within a few months of that decision, I signed a four book deal with the up-and-coming Compass Press. And now with the release of DIES IRAE, I have made the much anticipated jump into fiction! WOOT!

WHY A: What was the inspiration for this book? 

DIES IRAE is a prequel novella, pulled from a story in LACRIMOSA, the first novel in the series. Steeped in the mythology surrounding the fall of Lucifer, this story was my “take” on the rebirth of evil onto the planet. I purposefully set it at the cusp of Greece’s Dark Ages, and wrapped in several world mythos into the fabric of the novella and the series. Wanting to stick with the Requiem Mass theme that is present within the balance of the series, I titled the novella DIES IRAE – or Day of Wrath.

Tell us about the other books in the series. 

 The next book in the series is LACRIMOSA. This book takes place 3000 after DIES IRAE, in modern-day NYC. It chronicles one of Mikayel’s warriors, Nesy, as she sets out to vanquish a particularly bad-ass demon, Aydan – someone who just happens to be Azza’s right-hand warrior.  I don’t want to give up too much, but suffice it to say, that things are seldom what they seem, good and evil overlap far more than anyone realizes, and the concepts of sacrifice, vengeance and redemption are stretched to their limits. The rest of the series follows these same themes as the battle between good and evil intensifies and everyone must decide whether or not some sacrifices should never be made!

What else do you have in the works? 

A TON of projects, actually. I am hoping to share some exciting news on both the fiction and the nonfiction front within the next few weeks. Beyond that I am working on a few more psychological thrillers (my new favorite genre), as well as additional urban fantasies. No matter what it is I am working on, one thing is certain – like you have noticed, everything is steeped in emotion!

Christine, you are a notorious multi-tasker, garnering my fond nickname Energizer Bunny. How do you juggle your busy life as a working mom and author? 

Honestly, it is a never-ending struggle. I have learned to be exceptionally disciplined about my time, multi-tasking whenever possible. I have also learned to write in 15-minute increments, as well as remove things from my life that do not move me towards my goals, and the goals of my family. So yea, a daily struggle. Some days I am successful, some days are a train wreck!

Where do you see the publishing industry headed?  

Clearly we are standing at the precipice of change. I think we can expect to see more influence in the e-book domain, enhanced books of every sort and style, and strong influence from readers on what gets published and what doesn’t. I don’t believe print will go away, but I do think there will be a balance between the two.  Furthermore, I think the big six may have to consider changing their model with regards to large advances, etc. Clearly, there are still fabulous advances being given. However, when I read some statistics that many books take a year or more to earn back the advance I am concerned. In our current economic climate, how can any industry expect to survive that mode? Especially when there is a surge in self-publishing and small presses that utilize a different model.

Speaking of the alternative forms of publication, I agree with Kathleen Duey and others that urge authors in any form to insist on quality within their product. I think readers are starting to demand this more and more too. And I agree with some who express concern regarding the flood of .99 books on the market – concern that we are training our consumer to insist on that price point. Also a valid concern. These are all things that need to be figured out within the industry as a whole.

The only thing I really know about this amazing, ever-changing time is this… NOW is the time to remain flexible and open to all of the changes coming our way. It is exciting, really. At least, to me!

Thanks Lisa! And thank you for your kind words regarding DIES IRAE. I just love it when someone “gets” the story the way you have.

Thanks for stopping by, Christine! I just love the historic and mythological underpinnings of this book. LOVE! But mostly what I love, even more is the emotion that drips from every page. So much depth and drama, while being totally believable and not trite or contrived. This is why I’m pretty sure I’ll love anything you write, because yeah, I get you, Christine!

 

 

So what's new with me?

While my blog has been gathering dust, I haven't been doing nothing. Here's what's been going on:
My agent Victoria Marini of Gelfman Schneider has been an enormous help with my new book, BREAKING GLASS. I'm very excited and completely awed by Victoria's genius and dedication in helping me get this polished to a high shine. And of course, much thanks, as always, to my critique group, the Cudas for their slash and burn crits, as well as their wonderful friendships. Also, a big hug to my ever faithful beta reader, Colleen Rowan Kosinski, who has never ever let me down. If you'd like to read the first chapter of BREAKING GLASS, click here.

But what you may not know, is that while I was revising BREAKING GLASS, I worked on a picture book with the incredible Michelle McLean. Our book, illustrated by me and written by Michelle, is titled LYRIA'S EXTRAORDINARY WISH and is also currently out on submission. If you'd like a peak at the art, check it out right here:

http://www.behance.net/gallery/Lyrias-Extraordinary-Wish/2505851


Also, I have started on a new WIP, tentatively called Finders. (not crazy about the name, and so far I have changed the mc's name three times! From Davy, to Danny and now to Bobby! He's kind of a country bumpkin with a strange paranormal problem, so I think Bobby works.) No samples. Not ready to share!

Lastly, can someone please tell me what to do with the book I wrote before BREAKING GLASS? It's called LIFE AND BETH. It did not sell, but I still love it. If anyone wants to read a chapter and thinks they have some ideas what I should do with it.. click here.

Remembering 9-11

I'm a New Yorker and I'm not finding all of the recollections and talk of 9-11 easy. But somehow, reading other people's memories of the day is oddly comforting.

So here is mine:

That morning I was in a great mood. It was nice and early--8:30 AM and I was well ahead of schedule. We'd recently rolled out a few brand new courses at the college where I teach, and I'd finally started to feel I had things under control.

I paused before getting into my car and stared up into that implacably cloudless blue sky thinking I'd never seen a nicer morning in New York City. Yet, while driving to work, though the day was glorious, a vague sense of dread took hold of me, the same sense I'd had pretty much since 1999—that something bad was going to happen. I hadn't felt it for awhile though, especially after a summer where the biggest news was a series of shark attacks.

But that morning, the vague sense was back.

As I was about to turn from Sedgewick Avenue onto Hall of Fame Terrace, I heard Claudia Marshall's soothing voice on my favorite radio station, WFUV, announce rather calmly that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. At first, I assumed it was an accident, and envisioned a small plane hitting the building like a bug on a windshield. But the knot in my stomach clenched tighter.

I pulled onto campus and into a parking spot right in front of my building and sat listening to the car radio as an eyewitness who worked in the Empire State Building recounted how he'd watched a jumbo jet swoop down and fly straight into one of the towers. I was paralyzed with fear and knew this was no accident. I got out of the car, just as our office manager, Sharon, was coming to work and told her what I'd heard.

In my office, I sat, shuffling papers around. At the time I didn't have an internet connection in my office and was cut off from the news. A few minutes later, Sharon came in to tell me a second plane had hit Tower 2. That's when we hugged and started to cry.

We, along with the only other person on the floor, Cesar, our lab tech, tried to get the news on TV. It was hard then, as there wasn't much in the way of broadband and our TV reception stank. But there it was, that horrible image of the burning towers.

Meanwhile, I had a class to teach. And so I went. About half of my class managed to make it, most of them having no idea what had transpired. Again, with the poor internet of the day, and with cell phone and internet finally petering out, it was hard to get information. But, one of my students had a husband who was a police officer. It was she, Rosa Cordero, who informed us that the first tower had collapsed.

It was a small group that had wandered in that morning, maybe about nine students. We were in a state of raw shock. For lack of knowing what else to do, we gathered in a circle, held hands and prayed. A few minutes later a car with a bullhorn demanded that we evacuate the campus immediately. Without delay, we left. With no cell service, I could not reach my husband, who worked two blocks from Ground Zero and who often got a bagel in a bakery in the train station under the WTC. That morning, I wasn't sure what route he had taken to work and I couldn't reach him.

It took me nearly an hour to drive the ten minutes from the college to my kid's school, where my daughter was in Kindergarten and my son in fifth grade, since all the bridges to Manhattan had been blocked and the traffic in a normally quiet area was insane.

When I got to the school, all was chaos. I picked up my daughter and a few of her friends, because their parents were stuck downtown. My friend, who was home recovering surgery, had picked up our sons and another boy. Somehow, I ended up with seven kids in my house, fielding calls from their panicked parents.

The thing I remember most clearly was my son, Ben, sitting next to me on the bed in my bedroom. He was three months past his tenth birthday and he recalled that birthday very clearly, because on that day, June 19, 2001, the four of us had on a whim gone to the observation deck of the World Trade Towers for the very first time and watched the sun set. While we were there a jet flew low over the Hudson River and my son was alarmed.

"That plane can fly right into the building!" he said, fearfully.

"That will never happen, honey. Planes fly here all the time."

So when he faced me and said, "You lied, Mommy," I knew exactly what he meant. And what was I to tell him? What on earth were any of us supposed to tell our children from that moment on?

In that moment, I knew our world had changed forever. Safety was an illusion and we were all going to have to find a way to live with the knowledge that a day that could begin with a clear blue sky could end in horror.

This is the world my kids have grown up in. This is why I started to write, and why, I realized that nothing is too frightening or horrifying to share with a child. That you have to live in the moment, in the now, and take each day as the gift that it is.

Eventually, that afternoon, my husband called. He had decided to bike to work that day, since it was so beautiful, when he was originally going to take the train. On his ride on the bike path that follows the West Side Highway, he heard crazy sirens and care radios blaring with news he couldn't figure out. Something awful had happened. He found out as he got to a spot on the bike path with a clear view of the towers, just in time to witness the first tower collapse.

It took us all, my family, my students, every one I know, a long, long time to heal--to become ourselves again. For weeks that smell lingered in the air--the awful smell of burning fuel and death, a smell I hope I never smell again because I will most certainly cry.

For the rest of the semester, the students at my college were like automatons, diligent robots who went about their work mechanically. All of us were filled with unspoken outrage, that we should be attacked, that such a perfect day should be marred with such hate. Our days were filled with mentions of the dead and the missing--people we knew were lost and never coming home again.

One of my students was an ex-marine on National Guard duty who got called to Ground Zero to rescue people and recover bodies. He returned to class two weeks later, tightly wound and bristling with restless and chaotic energy. After an nearly violent outburst in class, I advised him to get help from the VA--which he reluctantly did—eventually finishing the class quite admirably. To me that brave student, Leo Rosado, will forever represent the bravery that all of us here in New York needed to get up every morning and face our frightening new world--to have hope again in the future.

And to heal that semester, we did the thing we do best--art. The art department created a 9-11 memorial exhibition and all my classes 9-11 projects to help us deal with the event.

But we got through--and that New York--the one that pulled itself together, the New York that came out onto the streets of my neighborhood that night to sing the national anthem and just hold hands and be together is the New York I will never forget. Because we learned just how strong we are.

In the years that followed many good things happened in my life. My son, then 10, who after facing his own academic and emotional struggles, is now 20, and a junior at a great college. My daughter is a beautiful and spirited teen, nearly 16. She doesn't remember much about that day. I turned to writing and art to heal, and it worked.

It's sad, though, to think of how divided this country has become in the years since. But this city, my city is not. We stood together and thrived in this past decade despite the economic downturn and political upheavals that have rocked this country--despite everything. We put aside our petty differences. We learned that in the face of adversity, you can prevail, that life is too short to bicker over differences in color, or gender preferences. It's a lesson I have taken to heart in just about every aspect of my life. No amount of fear will ever squelch our spirit here in New York.

As a footnote, I'd like to mention that in 2002, I entered a web-design contest sponsored by my employer, The City University of New York--and to my surprise, won. The website I designed is still up and running and featured today on the homepage of cuny.edu

It was a healing experience to create that website and I am forever grateful for the opportunity it gave me to express my grief and emotions from that day.

http://www1.cuny.edu/portal_ur/content/911site/web/finalintro.html

If any of you blog followers (if I have any left after being too negligent) want to share your memories, please do.

Road Trip to Rhinebeck, center of the YA universe...

Thanks to Suzanna Hermans and Jennifer Laughran, bookseller and agent extraordinaire, OBLONG BOOKS in Rhinebeck, New York has become a veritable children's book mecca.

Friday night, my critmate Dhonielle Clayton (of Teen Writer's Bloc) and I went on a road trip to see Libba Bray, and two other panelists, Michael Northrop, & E. Archer at Oblong for the Hudson Valley YA Society's: Survivor Edition. It was an entertaining evening, with Libba talking about her awesome new book BEAUTY QUEENS, mad libs style. A peak moment for me was when I managed to get a moment to talk to Libba, who is one the of the most hysterically funny and down to earth people I have ever met. I told Libba how one of my students is a huge fan of hers. She asked if I had the student's phone number and it just so happened I did. Libba called and left an adorable message!!! What a lady!!! And, I should also mention, BEAUTY QUEENS, is an ambitious, incredibly original and hilarious, can't put down read. Libba, you are just the BEST.

But, also, another excellent perk of visiting the hamlet of Rhinebeck is getting to hang out with Jennifer, the Gertrude Stein of childrens' lit. Jennifer is full of information and advice which she dispenses freely and generously for no particular reason other than that she just plain old knows everything and wants to share. Thanks, Jenn!

Another really great part about my mini road trip? Talking non-stop with Baby Cuda (her title as youngest member in my six year old online critique group), Dhonielle-who, poor dear, never seems to tire of my interminable babbling. If some day someone should ask how I plotted my current WIP and the book that my incredibly tenacious agent Victoria Marini has out on submission (BREAKING GLASS) I'm going to have to admit that my super secret technique is the Dhonielle and Lisa road trip. Yep--we have worked out plotting kinks for four of our books and came up with some new book ideas to boot. I highly recommend taking a road trip with a simpatico fellow writer. We had SO much fun (plotting our books is like crack for us--and of course, as usual, we missed our exit), and got so much done. And did I mention we stayed at the world's creepiest motel?

What a great little trip. If you are anywhere close to New York City and can take a drive up to Rhinebeck, NY--you've got to visit Oblong Books. Say hi to the wonderful Suzanna Hermans and Jennifer while you are there. But if you do run into Jennifer---bring plenty of cash, because you will not leave without a book. It's pretty hard to say no to one of the top agents in the biz when she's trying to sell you something. Pity those poor editors. :)

Rising from the dead to review the Kneebone Boy by Ellen Potter

Okay, not exactly dead, but buried in my WIP, BREAKING GLASS, nearly done at 242 pages. I've just been SO ENGROSSED, I hope you'll all forgive me.

I'd promised long ago to review Ellen Potter's KNEEBONE BOY and now I am going to keep half my promise—I'm having a guest blogger, my brilliant and generous critique-mate of five years, Cyndy Kennedy Henzel do the review. When Cyndy told me that she, too was as big fan of this rather unheralded book from 2010, I asked her if she'd like to do the review for my blog. She did and hear it is:

THE KNEEBONE BOY

by Cynthia Kennedy Henzel

I love surprise endings, and Ellen Potter’s KNEEBONE BOY delivered. The Hardscrabble children, Otto, Lucia, and Max, set off to stay with their cousin in London. When they discover she has gone on holiday, they find their way to their great-aunt’s, who lives in a miniature castle behind a sinister real castle once owned by the Kneebone family. Here, the story falls into the pattern of a semi-fantasy as they discover the morbid history of the castle then face dragons, secret passages, and other fantastical elements as they try to rescue the Kneebone heir locked in a castle tower.

THE KNEEBONE BOY, however, is not a fantasy. Or an adventure. Or a mystery. It is more the tale of a dysfunctional family with a dark secret. The father takes periodic trips to paint portraits of displaced royalty. The oldest son Otto, 13, hasn’t spoken since their mother mysteriously left five years earlier, and the great-aunt is wildly wacky.

The reader is lulled into complacency by the Lemony-Snicketish voice of the narrator, one of the children but which one is never identified, into accepting the characters and events that unfold as normal. This works wonderfully to disguise what is actually happening; the clues to the surprise ending are all masterfully planted. However, since the story is told in the past tense, the voice is somewhat jarring at the finale. We are surprised, maybe even shocked, but it is difficult to be empathetic. The narrator also tends to pause to tell the reader something is going to happen; a device that tends to pull the reader from the plot and doesn’t seem really necessary.

I’ll admit I was tempted to put the book down halfway through, thinking that it was just another tale of wacky characters off to visit the wacky relative in the mysterious house and having a somewhat silly adventure. It is not. Keep reading. It is a masterfully plotted story. You will be thinking about this book for a long time.