Indeed

Posted on by Beth Hull

It makes sense not to swear around your toddler. She picks things up. She mimics you. She said “geez kid” the other day after you said, “Geez, kid, stop climbing into the bathtub.” She learns words you don’t even teach her. Like “farmer’s market,” and “soy sauce,” and the lines to “Scarborough Fair.”

It’s eerie, is what it is.

She shouts, “See you guys!” when friends leave. What the heck happened to “bye-bye”? And her latest copycat-ism: “Indeed.”

You didn’t even know you were saying it, did you? Who says, “Indeed” anymore? But it  must be you. You’d notice if Husband was saying it. So you ask her if she’d like more milk. “Yes, indeed,” she says. How about some goldfish crackers? you ask. “Goldfish…crackers…indeed,” she says, weighing each word carefully, as if they were vowels on Wheel of Fortune. Did we see a dog yesterday? you ask. “Dog indeed.”

Where is my child? you want to ask. Why are you running around sounding like you swallowed a book of Jane Austen fan fiction? Come back, little Z! Come back!

You’ve been paying attention to what you say now, searching for that “indeed.” The one that jumped out of your mouth and created an indeeding indeeder. Haven’t found one yet.

Puzzling indeed.

Oh, because I’ve been watching it over and over again (Z is obsessed with the Sienna family now), here’s a link to the Swagger Wagon music video from Toyota. I don’t drive a Toyota, nor do I have any immediate plans to go out and buy a minivan, but this is hilarious.

Come back Friday for my second, very-cool, very nifty author interview, featuring local author and poet Josh Fernandez!

The Unwelcome Mat

Posted on by Beth Hull

What part of NO SOLICITING is unclear?

Is the word “soliciting” too big for the average door-to-door salesperson? Maybe they’re all from Britain and they think my sign is anti-lawyer?

Whatever. It’s a tasteful sign, black, with gold lettering. Probably $1.99 at Home Depot. It came with the house, so I don’t know how much it cost. But I’m thinking of replacing it. Maybe with something neon, flashing letters. A hot pink flamingo beside it. Because I DON’T LIKE TO BE BOTHERED. I don’t want whatever you’re offering. I don’t want a new roof, a free estimate. I don’t want strangers knocking on my door.

When we moved here, Z was almost five months old and taking three or four naps a day. The doorbell was extremely loud, and while we didn’t often have unexpected visitors, the few times we did the clanging of the doorbell woke her up. My solution: a sign that reads “Please KNOCK instead of ringing doorbell.” It’s taped over the doorbell, so no one can miss it.

Should I add a post-script? “Please KNOCK instead of ringing doorbell, but if you’re selling something don’t even bother, unless you’re a girl scout selling cookies.”

I don’t want your new siding, your solar energy, your religion, your encyclopedias, or your pizza coupons. But I do want your cookies.

Sunny Shines

Posted on by Beth Hull

I’ve been trying to read The Happiest Toddler on the Block (Harvey Karp) because I want to have the happiest toddler on the block.

As Husband says when he’s being especially infuriating: “It’s nice to want things, isn’t it?”

Z’s a very happy little kid, truly. She is also prone to fits and tantrums, and demonstrates an alarming capacity for drama (if one single person who knows me makes a “like-mother-like-daughter” comment they will never receive a Christmas, birthday, or Valentine’s Day card from me again. That means you, Mom). I don’t think Z is atypical of toddlers in these respects. It must be very difficult to be three feet tall and not able to run to the store for a pint of Ben & Jerry’s whenever life gives you a smackdown. Instead, your mean mom doesn’t even let you have ice cream (more for her, she reasons), and she’s even put restrictions on the goldfish crackers. Then your dad jumps in saying, “It’s nice to want things, isn’t it?”

Because life is rough for a two-year-old, I’m making an effort to be a better mom. That includes trying out some of the ideas in Karp’s book. What usually happens, though, is I try something which doesn’t work, and then I come up with something that works better for Z. Example: he recommends “hand checks” as rewards, which is just like it sounds–taking a pen and putting an ink check on your kid’s hand. Well, Z freaks out if you come at her with anything pointy, especially if it’s going to leave a mark. Hand checks? Not such a good idea for her. Before I figured that out, I started drawing on my own hand to show her it was okay. The middle-schooler in me (who is really just below my 29-year-old surface) jumped out, and next thing I knew I had this:

Pretty cool, huh?

Okay, fine, maybe not cool to anyone old enough to read, but Z thought her new friend was awesome. She named her Sunny, and we had such a great time with Sunny that I considered getting a Sunny tattoo.

Sunny talked Z into trying broccoli again, she convinced Z that diaper changes are fun, and she generally gained Z’s cooperation in so many areas that I started to feel a little jealous of Sunny. I mean, who is this imposter, anyway? Z will run down our driveway towards the street while I shout fearfully for her to stop, but she’d probably be potty trained in a second of Sunny suggested it. (In fact, watch Sunny come back today so I can give that a shot.)

The thing is, little kids need heroes, and for the longest time, I was Z’s hero. Nobody else. After all, for Z’s first year I had the mama’s milk and nobody else did. Stupid Sunny never had mama’s milk. It’s all part of growing up, I suppose, my daughter adopting other people and characters as her heroes. If I’m already having trouble with her adopting a character invented from my own hand, I can tell this is going to be hard for me.

Maybe I have some growing up to do as well.

First Sentences in YA Lit, Answers

Posted on by Beth Hull

In lieu of a book review, here are the authors and books matched up to the first sentences I posted on Friday. (Oh, and the parenthetical P notations indicate, where I remember, that the first sentence comes from a prologue, since I’ve been obsessed with prologues lately.)

1. We went to the moon to have fun, but the moon turned out to completely suck. -M. T. Anderson, Feed

2. It was a dark and stormy night. -Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

3. I remember lying in the snow, a small red spot of warm going cold, surrounded by wolves. -Maggie Stiefvater, Shiver (P)

4. When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. -Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

5. I don’t believe in ghosts. -Gillian Shields, Immortal (P)

6. The tree woman choked on poison, the slow sap of her blood burning. -Holly Black, Valiant (P)

7. Chauncey was with a farmer’s daughter on the grassy banks of the Loire River when the storm rolled in, and having let his gelding wander in the meadow, was left to his own two feet to carry him back to the chateau. -Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush (P)

8. Blood fills my mouth. -Bree Despain, The Dark Divine (P)

9. In these dungeons the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind. -Kristin Cashore, Graceling

10. Her parents were going to kill her for this. -Carrie Vaughn, Voices of Dragons

11. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse I saw the dead guy standing next to my locker. -P. C. Cast & Kristin Cast, Marked

12. On the day Claire became a member of the Glass House, somebody stole her laundry. -Rachel Caine, Glass Houses

13. Mommy forgot to warn the new babysitter about the basement. -Kelley Armstrong, The Summoning (P)

14. Janie Hannagan’s math book slips from her fingers. -Lisa McMann, Wake

15. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. -J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

16. “Please tell me that’s not going to be part of my birthday dinner this evening.” -Libba Bray, A Great and Terrible Beauty

17. There were only two kinds of people in our town. -Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl, Beautiful Creatures

18. Around midnight, her eyes at last took shape. -Lauren Kate, Fallen (P)

19. Torrential rain was pouring the afternoon Rebecca Brown arrived in New Orleans. -Paula Morris, Ruined

20. Dad had Uncle Eddie round, so naturally they had to come and see what I was up to. -Louise Rennison, Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging

21. It didn’t take long for Phoebe to figure out Jeremy wasn’t coming back for her. -MINE!

22. “Guess who?” -Alyson Noel, Evermore

23. Someone was looking at me, a disturbing sensation if you’re dead. -Laura Whitcomb, A Certain Slant of Light

24. Some things start before other things. -Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men

25. Flames shot high, turning the night lurid with carnival light. -Annette Curtis Klause, Blood and Chocolate (P)

26. Everyone’s seen my mother naked. -Elizabeth Scott, Something, Maybe

27. Jason was going to Brain Camp. -Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

28. I’d never given much thought to how I would die – though I’d had reason enough in the last few months – but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this. -Stephenie Meyer, Twilight (P)

29. My mother used to tell me about the ocean. -Carrie Ryan, The Forest of Hands and Teeth

30. There are these bizarre people who actually like physical education class. -Carrie Jones, Captivate

So there they are. Happy Monday! It’s going to be a beautiful week!

First Sentences in YA Lit

Posted on by Beth Hull

Here are 30 first sentences. Do you know the books they go to? If you know what I’ve been reading lately you’ll have an advantage, but I threw a few old favorites in just to keep you guessing. Um, obviously if the suspense is killing you it’s easy enough to find the answers online (which is why this isn’t a contest, just an excuse to use the information from my first-line notebook). I’ll post the authors & book titles on Monday.

The interesting part of this exercise is the discovery that some first lines are definite hooks. I know which ones I think are amazing, and I know which ones, well, aren’t. And there are a few that are not winning first sentences, but if you stick around for the rest of the paragraph–Wow (I’m thinking specifically of #17 when I write this).

Take a guess if you feel like it, or just enjoy!

1. We went to the moon to have fun, but the moon turned out to completely suck.

2. It was a dark and stormy night.

3. I remember lying in the snow, a small red spot of warm going cold, surrounded by wolves.

4. When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.

5. I don’t believe in ghosts.

6. The tree woman choked on poison, the slow sap of her blood burning.

7. Chauncey was with a farmer’s daughter on the grassy banks of the Loire River when the storm rolled in, and having let his gelding wander in the meadow, was left to his own two feet to carry him back to the chateau.

8. Blood fills my mouth.

9. In these dungeons the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind.

10. Her parents were going to kill her for this.

11. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse I saw the dead guy standing next to my locker.

12. On the day Claire became a member of the Glass House, somebody stole her laundry.

13. Mommy forgot to warn the new babysitter about the basement.

14. Janie Hannagan’s math book slips from her fingers.

15. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

16. “Please tell me that’s not going to be part of my birthday dinner this evening.”

17. There were only two kinds of people in our town.

18. Around midnight, her eyes at last took shape.

19. Torrential rain was pouring the afternoon Rebecca Brown arrived in New Orleans.

20. Dad had Uncle Eddie round, so naturally they had to come and see what I was up to.

21. It didn’t take Phoebe long to figure out Jeremy wasn’t coming back for her.

22. “Guess who?”

23. Someone was looking at me, a disturbing sensation if you’re dead. 

24. Some things start before other things.

25. Flames shot high, turning the night lurid with carnival light.

26. Everyone’s seen my mother naked. 

27. Jason was going to Brain Camp. 

28. I’d never given much thought to how I would die – though I’d had reason enough in the last few months – but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this.

29. My mother used to tell me about the ocean. 

30. There are these bizarre people who actually like physical education class.

Author Friends: I’d love to read your first sentences, too! Post them below.