Well, the bad characters get the names of students and distant family members who gave me grief or bad Christmas presents. Characters I like are sometimes named after friends, family members who still claim me, and names I get from peeking into Cabbage Patch boxes at Wal-Mart.
Sure I do. It’s so inspirational for putting you right into the heart of a scene. And since I have some romantic elements in most of my books, that of course means I listen to a lot of. . . polka. For special moments I even break out the kazoo. (side note: I once worked in a school where the faculty were given NOSE kazoos. No kidding. I still have that thing, but have yet to perfect it.) I also listen to Phantom of the Opera a lot and imagine my characters in masks and capes. Just really elevates the plot of any story. My editors always cut those parts out. But one day. . .
In a word: elves.
And along those lines, I’d like to offer a few time-saving tips for the rest of you. These have sure helped me.
a. Wear the same outfit every day. People will stare, but they will not comment for fear of rudeness. Or fear of getting too close.
b. Become friends with your messy house. A dusty coffee table isn’t a problem. It’s a great place for tic-tac-toe at dinner parties.
c. Send pets out to find their own food. Once upon a time it’s what animals did. How hard could it be?
d. Forget setting aside time for running or lifting weights. Your exercise? Emailing. It’s got to burn at least some calories. Like three.
e. Press your nose to your neighbor’s dining room window and look pitiful. Instant invitation to dinner. It makes them feel included in your career. (And Mrs. Rumpskie, I like a little more ketchup on my meatloaf, by the way. See you Thursday.)
I get up, I eat breakfast (either Twinkies or Raisin Bran depending on how late I stayed up the night before), chug some tea (no sugar, lots of ice), and go to school (with some small measure of hygiene in there, again depending on how much sleep I got). I teach 150 students who are on the edge of their seats, eager for the knowledge they know only I can bring them. By the end of the day I am exhausted from hearing I’m the best teacher in the world and my teaching has convinced yet another student to turn away from gangs, drugs, or the music of Clay Aiken. I go home, eat more Twinkies. Watch ten minutes of Oprah. Check my email for five hours. Then sit down and write for as long as the muse moves me—which is usually about ten minutes. And somehow six months later, a book is born.
I like a variety. I enjoy anything by YA author Richard Peck, especially A Year Down Yonder. I also love books by Meg Cabot, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Sarah Mlynowski, Kristin Billerbeck, and Gary Paulsen. I loved the Twilight series. And you cannot forget your classics such as Shakespeare, Langston Hughes, and Walter the Farting Dog.
You do what I did—search long and hard for a four leaf clover, stalk a few leprechauns, then convert your life savings into pennies and toss them into every fountain in the lower forty-eight. If those things don’t work out for you, I would suggest writer’s conferences. They are a must if you want to get a foothold in the biz. And read. A lot. A just write. I waited a long time for a novel to write itself and show up on my doorstep. Though I hold out hope that this could still happen, we have the write the things ourselves. For more of my oh so valuable advice on this subject, check out this blog post.
You don’t have to pay people to pose as friends anymore.
And the personal jet the publisher buys you for Christmas.
Writer’s Butt ™. You could search for Wikipedia on this condition or just take it from me—it’s serious. You sit for such long periods of time that your butt starts to mold to the shape of the giant seat cushion. Other Writer’s Butt phenomenon include your tushie becoming resistant to gravity, an intense desire to wear sweats every day, and the delusion that Ben and Jerry’s ice cream is your friend.