So Over My Head would describe my week. And the entire month of April. Anyone else?  Thank goodness the weekend is HERE! WOOO!

A sweet reader emailed and suggested I preview another chapter from the latest Bella Kirkwood installment and pick it from the middle. So since I’m a little news-less, I thought I would comply. (But I will try and run some toll booths or set off some alarms this weekend so I have something to bring you Monday.)

From So Over My Head (and for variety’s sake, I personally recommend reading it in a French accent.)

…As my car comes into view, so does Luke. He sits on the hood, lounged back on his muscular arms. Geeks should not be this devastatingly good-looking.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Thought we could hang out.” He doesn’t move from his lazy recline.

“I’m sure Ashley Timmons is waiting for your call. Besides, I’m just going home.”

“Sure you are.”

Not once have I ever wished for a crime-solving partner. Not one time.

Ruthie throws a leg over her motorcycle. “You know, maybe it’s because it’s been a night of emotional expression for me and I’m extra sensitive, but I’m picking up on some vibes here. Yeah”–she waves a finger between us–”I think you two are up to something. And it ain’t a date.”

“Good night, Ruthie.” I open my car door. “And Luke.”

He jumps off the hood and grabs the door. “Not so fast. We’re a team.”

A team members wouldn’t dunk me in a water tank.” Every time I think about that, I get ticked. “I’m working solo.” I direct my glare at Ruthie too.

She hops off her bike and scurries to my car. Pushing Luke out of the way, she slides into the backseat. “Where are we going?” She bestows Luke with her haughtiest stare. “I am the sidekick, you know, so don’t get any ideas about taking my title. I have the book and everything.”

A corner of his mouth quirks. “I know a place where we can park the car out of sight and keep an eye out for anyone leaving.”

“Oh, espionage!” Ruthie claps her hands. “I love it. Hey, should I have brought my slingshot?”

“NO!” Luke and I yell simultaneously.

After texting my mom that I’m going to be hanging out with Ruthie and Luke, I steer the car onto a side road, and we wait.

Ruthie whiles away the time by humming. “Can you guess that tune?”

“Sounds just like the last three.” Luke rubs the bridge of his nose.

Ruthie sighs. “Did I tell you the story about the time I stapled the church secretary’s skirt to a pew?”

“Yes. And when she stood up to sing ‘Just As I Am,’ her skirt fell down, and she farted. Good story.” Ugh, I just want to go to sleep. And get away from Luke. Seriously, the guy almost kissed me tonight. Right? I’m sure he was going to. But why? Maybe now I’m just some challenge to him. I know Ashley sure isn’t.

Luke jerks his seat up straight. “There they go–Stewart and Red.”

We all watch Red’s old Ford F-150 pull out of the carnival parking lot.

“Start the car,” Luke says. “But keep the lights off.”

“Omigosh. This is so CSI.”

I roll my eyes in the dark at Ruthie, and at the count of ten, I put the car in drive. We follow them through downtown, staying back a comfortable distance. They drive to the city park, adn I stop the car across the street.

“What are they doing?” Ruthie whispers.

I reach into my purse and get out my little pink binoculars. “They’ve got shovels.”

“They’re stopping at the memorial fountain.”

“Probably gonna scoop up some pennies,” Ruthie says. “I sneak out here and do that every once in a while myself. You don’t get much, but it’s a good way to fund a beef jerky and Yoo-Hoo purchase.”

“They’re digging all right.” I hand my binoculars to Luke. “Right next to the fountain.”

Thirty minutes later father and son climb back into the truck, armed with nothing but their shovels.

“Whatever they’re looking for, they didn’t find it.” I work out a kink in my neck. “Maybe this is what they wanted the dog for–to find something.”

“I totally should’ve brought snacks.” Ruthie pops in her fifth piece of gum. “Some bean dip would really hit the spot.”

We all duck down as the truck goes by, its headlights shining through my Bug.

“They’re turning down Hall Street.” Luke straights to a seated position. “Let’s go.”

Over the next hour Red and Stewart stop at a pig farm, the Dairy Barn, and a used car lot. Finding nothing at the water tower, the two guys toss the shovels in the bed of the truck.

“Wait a minute. What’s that?” Luke adjusts the binoculars and zooms in. “A piece of paper. They’re reading off some sort of instructions or something.”

“Maybe it’s a treasure map!”

I’m so exhausted, I laugh out loud. “Ruthie, this isn’t Pirates of the Caribbean.”

Luke shifts in his seat, his body humming with renewed energy. “She could be right.”

I lean on my armrest and yawn. “Buried treasure?”

As we follow the truck back to the carnival grounds, Ruthie voices what’s we’re all three thinking. “Buried something.”
(from So Over My Head, copyright 2010)

That’s all for now! See you next week where we’ll do some giveaways and talk about exciting things like American Idol and cat barf.

Jen

10 comments

Before I go any further, I have to get this out of my system. Stick with it. Just when you think it’s close-worthy, they change it up.

Did you check out the Jack Black wanna-be? You know he probably left that lobby with some phone numbers. It looked like the lobby of my first dorm. Except that one had fun in it. And people. And paint of this decade.

Things I’ve learned in the last week:

1. My readers have really blessed me recently. I’ve received tons of sweet emails lately, and then there’s this swanky review of So Over My Head.

2. Summer vaykay couldn’t get here quick enough, even though it’s all completely booked, and I have no idea how I’m going to squeeze in the massive painting overhaul my house is crying for.

3. I currently have two couches in my small living room. This is because Craig’s List is not the “quick selling gold mine” people told me it was. It’s a freak show of pervs and spammers. And I refuse to play the perv-spammer game, so I’m currently stuck with enough living room furniture to seat all 90 of my students.

4. Dr. Mercola FREAKS me out on a daily basis, and I don’t know why I get his newsletter. Here’s a typical example:

Monday: If you don’t eat more fish, you’re going to die.
Tuesday: Your cell phone is going to kill you, but luckily the FDA is waving red flags.
Wednesday: The FDA is a corrupt bunch of goat worshipers and their red flags were not even biodegradable.
Thursday: If you don’t listen to Lawrence Welk and buy 500 dollars of my own brand of supplements, you’re going to die.
Friday: All fish are contaminated, and if you’ve eaten any this week, you’re going to die.

5. I’m now shamefully sorry I laughed at Bret Michaels when he got clocked by a descending set at last year’s Tony Awards. If I’m not legitimately praying for this man-of-many-hair-extensions, then every rose does not have a thorn.

6. My friend Kari had a baby this week! Welcome to the world Sarah Jane. I will try not to hold it against you that your mom is quitting work as a fellow teacher and ditching me. Because baby sitters aren’t that bad. They’re character building. And if that’s not a good option, how hard would it be to strap the baby on and just teach too? My friend Kari’s selfishness is out of control. She’s lucky I’m still willing to eat queso with her. On a daily basis.

7. Loved the “love your body shape no matter who you are” episode of Glee this week. I also loved that the cheerleader with Down Syndrome was back. I love that character.  But why is Rachael’s boyfriend going to her school? When did that happen?

8. My house smells like a crock pot. I hate the crock pot. I would tell you what I cooked in it, but it doesn’t matter. No matter what you put in it, it all smells and tastes the same.

9. Kristin Chenoweth has more talent than a girl has a right to. She is the team leader for short girls. And why does she have such great arms? You should either have one or the other–talent or sinewy biceps. But not both.

10. My Komen Race for the Cure got rained out. Actually about 1600 people showed up, but usually about 15k more are present. I still got up at 5:45, and there are pics of the event (the race, not my getting up at the unholy hour), but let’s just say instead of running/walking, my portion of the team (Save the Hooters, complete with owl t-shirt), went out for breakfast instead. My friend Holly’s portion of the team finished the race. Waffle-free.

11. Speaking of running, May is national running month. To celebrate I’m going to eat some cupcakes.

12. I’m pretty tuned-out to Idol, but Bowersox was awesome last week.

13. At my school, we got to wear jeans the last half of the month of April. It was awesome. The problem with this is it makes you really dread May. I have enough sick days to miss the whole month and just not show up, but I’m worried they’ll start asking for doctor’s notes after week two. And I have yet to get a doctor to write me a note for sickness fake-itus aurora borealis.

14. I’m not sorry Kate is gone from Dancing with the Stars, and I refuse to buy into this Kate Propaganda and feel pity for her. I will never feel sorry for someone who routinely invests that much time with self-tanner and hair extensions. Bret Michaels and Barry Manilow being the natural exceptions.

I hope you’re having a good week! See you soon.
JEN

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Congrats to the winners of So Over My Head. We had such a great response to the week’s question, that I picked three winners instead of one. I should charge everyone a dollar though, because that question cost me MAJOR BUCKS. I had to order a bunch of books afterward!  Anyway, the winners are….Vanessa, Margaret, and Moriah. Email me with your home addys (jen at jennybjones dot com).

I have had a fast and furious week, so I am too pooped to blog. But swing back by Monday for

1. More giveaways.

2. More sneak peeks into So Over My Head

3. Pics of the Susan May Warren event in Tulsa (minus the sirens and flashing lights)

4. Pics from my amazing night at a teacher’s award ceremony that pretty much MADE MY SEMESTER.

5. Pics from the Komen Race for the Cure, where we are debuting our 2010 pro-boob shirts.

6. Pics from the book club I visited this week, and the SUPER AMAZING basket-o-treats those sweet women made me.

7. I think that might be it. I will try and rustle up some more excitement between now and then. Because reviewing that list…I’m not sure if those things would lure me back to the blog either. Maybe I’ll try and set off some more toll booth alarms.

8. Or maybe I’ll let a unicorn take me on a magical ride to the land of the blueberries.

HAPPY WEEKEND!

JEN

8 comments

Don’t forget, Friday I’m drawing a name for a free copy of So Over My Head. I’m LOVING our question of the week, and am compiling a list of must-read books right now. Keep the suggestions coming. You can see contest details on Monday’s post.

We have one of our first reviews for So Over My Head by the lovely Deena at “A Peek At My Bookshelf” blog. If Deena lived close by, I think I would have to stalk her with constant thank you’s. You can read that review HERE.

(Police update: So far I’m happy to report the po-po has not come for me. But it’s early in the week yet.)

Have you guys picked up a copy of Susie magazine lately? Once upon a time there was a magazine for teen girls called Brio, published by Focus on the Family. Then it got cut off at the knees and went away. The founder of Brio and editor, Susie started her own magazine, and I have to admit, I like it even better. And I’m not just saying that because my books and I are in the May issue (not shown above). A Charmed Life series is featured, along with some other great suggestions for books to read for those dreaded book reports, like Donita K. Paul, Sarah Anne Sumpolec, Cindy Woodsmall, Sandra Byrd, my friend Stephanie Morrill, Hayley DiMarco, and others. AND there’s a fabulous article/devo called “A Day in the Life of Royalty” by kick-butt author and friend Natalie Lloyd, author of awesome book Paperdoll. (If you’re not reading Natalie’s blog, btw, you are totally missing out. I’m one of her groupies and never miss it.) Plus the magazine is PACKED with opportunities for major give-aways. Like 222 of them. Free! Prizes! Free prizes!

And I have a short story in there as well. I thought I would give you a little preview of the story. Here ’tis.

The Smallest Sparrow

I step onto the bus, inhaling exhaust fumes and anger.

I drag my eyes over all the seats, trying to find an empty one to escape to. Everyone is paired two by two, and I’m surrounded by their laughter and general good cheer. These people are excited to be heading to church camp. Me? I’d rather chew my own arm off.

“You can sit with me.”

My eyes drop to the left as a tall, brown-headed guy scoots toward the window. It’s the only seat available.

“I’m Dawson.”

And I’m Miserable. A slave to my parents’ twisted request that I return to the very place that has haunted me for the last two years.

“Do you have a name?” he asks.

A million smart remarks war in my head, but my counselor says I have to work on that. “I’m Melanie Bancroft.” I wait for the recognition to light his face.

It doesn’t. I turn away from him and ponder this. People know my name because I’m the girl who watched her sister drown at Camp Samaritan two summers before. I’m the girl who dove in with her twin, the other half of her heart, and came up with nothing. I broke to the surface…but she did not. I’m the one who had to endure the stares. The pointing fingers. The whispers that were anything but quiet. I’m the one who had to go home to parents who told me they didn’t hold me responsible, but like me, were never quite the same.

“Is this your first year?” Dawson, asks, clearly not  picking up on my don’t-talk-to-me vibe.

“No.” I laeve it at that.

“You don’t look too excited to be going to camp.” Dawson’s brown eyes reflect concern.

“It was my parents’ idea.” They thought if I returned to the camp, I might gain some closure. They seem to think I’m stuck in this time-warp of despair.

“My sister doesn’t want to go to camp, either.” He gestures toward the back.

I nod my head, wondering why he’s still talking to me. Usually people give up by now.

“My sister Brittany’s the one with her life jacket on.”

I follow his gaze and see her. She sits int eh back row, surrounded by giggling girls who are just as polished and primped as she is not. Nor do they have Down Syndrome.

“It’s her first time to camp, and she’s really nervous.” He inhales deeply. “That makes two of us. I’m kind of protective of her. Hey–maybe you could help me. You know, keep an eye out for her.”

Dude, you do not want me in charge of keeping watch over anyone. “I don’t think so.”

His expression darkens. “Yeah, sure. Forget I asked. Brittany’s an awesome girl, though. In fact, she’s pretty amazing.”

Great. Now he’s offended. “I’m sure she is. But I’m not really good with…people.”

“Because she’s different?”

No, because she has a pulse. Because two years ago I let my sister drown. Because I’m out of the business of taking care of anyone.

Dawson doesn’t speak to me the rest of the three-hour ride. He turns and talks to everyone around us. It appears I ticked off the most popular guy on the bus. My backside is totally asleep by the time we lurch to a stop under some giant oak trees.

“Welcome to Camp Samaritan!” a woman calls as we gather in the front yard. “Campers, you’ll be divided by age, so find a counselor and see what cabin you need to go to. Your counselors are in the red shirts.”

I catch sight of Dawson again.  He’s wearing a red shirt. Super. He’ll probably assign me to trash duty all week. I thought he was just one of us high-schoolers. Ten minutes later I toss my suitcase in the Acorn cabin. Other 17-year-old girls mill around me. I recognize a few of them, but maintaining friendships has not been my forte lately.

The screen door rattles on its hinges as a suitcase rams into it. I hear a small yelp.

One girl rolls her eyes. “That’s Brittany.”

Dawson’s sister pulls on the door, but it hits her suitcase. She picks up the bag, only to have no hands for the door. Throwing a disgruntled look at my roommates, I leap from the bed and fling open the door. I grab Brittany’s stuff and set it inside.

“Thanks.” Wide eyes study me before taking in the room.

“I guess that’s your bed.” I point to the remaining bunk. A top one.

She shakes her head, her earrings flying. “I can’t. I can’t sleep up there. I’ll fall off. My mom told me I wouldn’t have to sleep on the top bunk.”

A blonde roomie pipes up. “Brittany, you can handle it, can’t you? If you can’t sleep up there without falling out, then maybe you should call your mommy and go back home.”

I swallow back acid. The old me would take up for her. This me is just too tired. And it would require talking t o them–all those other girls. “You can have my bunk,” I say, anxious for peace.

“I do want to go home.” Brittany’s  eyes fill with tears. “I want to go home.” She bolts out of the cabin, yelling at the top of her lungs for her brother.

After lunch, we gather in the courtyard for a quick meeting. Dawson blows a whistle to get our attention. The girls from my cabin dissolve into obnoxious giggles. I have to admit, the college boy is cute.

“You’ve got two options,” Dawson says. “You can either go with me for a bike ride through the hills, or you can go with Counselor Meg for a hike. Either way, you have to stay in groups of two or three. Don’t lose each other.”

And where do you go if you don’t want to do anything?

“I don’t like bikes.” Brittany’s bottom lip trembles as she slides closer to her brother. “I want to hike, Dawson. Please go with me. Please.”

“I can’t.” He surveys the group of campers. “Who wants to partner with Brittany for the hike?”

There’s an awkward silence as people shift together–away from Dawson’s sister.

“I will.” I startle at my own voice. Did I just say that?

“Great!” Dawson’s face splits into a grin. “Brittany, this is Melanie. She’s going to be your buddy today.”

“Oomph!” I stagger backward as Brittany covers me in a bear hug. She clearly doesn’t know about my no-hugging policy.

“Thanks, Melanie.”Dawson gives my shoulder a squeeze as he walks by, gathering his bikers.

To be continued…in Susie magazine! So pick up a copy to read the rest. or else you’ll miss out on what happens on the hike with Brittany. And what happens between Melanie and Dawson. And the moment Melanie lets go of her old hurt. And…the aliens that carry them all away. And why Mt. Rushmore explodes and an ocean wipes out the Eiffel Tower.

Okay, so maybe not all of that is in there, but still check out the May issue of Susie magazine.

Have a great rest of the week.

JEN

14 comments

First of all, stick around for new giveaway details. But that’s later.

Right now, you need to know that this is going to be one of those stories that would go much better with pictures.
But I don’t have them.

Friday night I decided it had been a long time since I had gotten in the car and gone on a one woman road trip (and that last one went SO successfully), that I would just hop in Blackie and take off for the border. The Arkansas-Oklahoma border, that is.  Fab-o author Susan May Warren was going to be speaking to the Tulsa branch of ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers), and I decided at the last minute I would go. I have been hearing raves about Susan May Warren’s teaching forever, but had yet to be able to catch one of her writing classes. Plus Tulsa has a Whole Foods, something my corner of Arkansas does not. (But Whole Foods does not have Snickers, so it all evens out I guess.)

Susie’s class was awesome. I took seven pages of notes. Madam Warren and awesome author Rachel Hauck have writing retreats throughout the year. If you can swing it, I highly recommend it. Or you can catch these two authors and more teaching at the ACFW conference in September, which I also highly recommend. You know what I DON’T recommend? Typing with a cat on your keyboard. Because I just typed one of those sentences five times.

The session ended at about 9:45, and I set out for the long trek home. I am happy to report my GPS unit worked a lot better than it did on my last solo voyage out in the middle of nowhere, where it kept telling me to make a left turn off a side of a mountain and repeatedly trying to kill me. (I’m still a little bitter over this, but I think the GPS and I worked out our differences this weekend.)  I had JUST the right amount of change left for the turnpike toll. So I pull up to the turnpike at the dark hour of 10:45, throw my coins in…and drop one. Crap! It’s dark. A car is coming. I can’t find the dang nickle. I dig in my purse and find one solitary dime. Throw it in. Nothing. The green light doesn’t turn on, signaling I can go. I dig for more change. I got nothing. NOTHING! Cars…lining up. I’m getting stressed. I can’t get out of the car, because I’ve seen enough Nightmare on Elm Streets to know that just as soon as I do, a murderer will appear out of nowhere and rip out my soul then take off with my ‘02 Black Wonder. So I throw in a buck…

…and run it.

Tripping an alarm. Sirens blared. Lights flashed. And I just gunned it. As I said on Facebook, it was like the spirit of Burt Reynolds took over my body, and I quoted Smokey and the Bandit all the way home.   “My handle is Smokey Bear and I’m tail grabbin’ your tail right now!”  “Cowboys love fat calves!”

So I hope each of you is prepared to be my one phone call when they hunt me down. I’ll probably have to retreat into the woods and go all Unibomber on them. Because they’re not taking me alive. Also like the Unibomber, this will involve wearing hoodies. And giving up shaving. (You know, now that I think about it, this won’t be too different from any other day…)  I figured the state of Oklahoma made money off this deal, so I’m not too worried about it. But if you see my face on America’s Most Wanted, do let me know. I’ve got some family members I’ve been wanting to one-up. . .

So Over My Head is available on Amazon, which means it could be on the shelves any moment now. Let’s start this week by giving one away. To get in the running, all you have to do is tell me when the last time you broke the law. Wait, no. That’s not it. The question of the week is: What is a book you’re wanting to read next. (not mine.) I just finished reading a few YA books and am on a teen lit kick. Next up is a book recommended by super author Natalie Lloyd, called  100 Cupboards. A book I WANT to read is Crescendo, the follow-up to Becca Fitzpatrick’s Hush Hush. It doesn’t release ’til November. Hopefully by then they’ll have a new cover. The one for Hush Hush was so acclaimed that this one disappointed me.  I did a book talk on Hush Hush last week in my classes, and my kids have been speed-reading it and passing it around. Gives me a total librarian high. But…what book are you waiting to read? Let me know by Thursday evening. Preferably before I report to my parole officer. I’ll randomly draw a name to announce Friday.

Have a great week!

JEN

59 comments