young adult fiction

Sequoia Weeds

Posted on by Beth Hull

As promised, a photo of my mini-garden. It is confined to planter boxes for the time being, but we have plans to expand into the back lawn.

Hello salad!

That’s the flattering angle of my “garden.” From the other direction, scary. The arugula is just screaming for attention–it’s in the far planter, crowded, insisting on space, and stealing it from the stunted beets and the three sickly soybean plants.

At dinner last night I asked Husband if he thought it was the coolest thing in the world that I can step into the back yard and “pick” our salad just before we eat it. For him, the novelty wore off after the first night. For me, it never gets old. I look at the bright green things in my salad bowl and just marvel at how these used to be tiny seeds. I have loved them. Like a proud parent, I even made phone calls to friends and family when they sprouted.

I’ve been spending so much of my attention on these two planter boxes (and the failed experiments of container lettuce) that I neglected the front and side yards. Now they are SCARY.

Monster Weed

I don’t think this photo can really get my point across. This is only a small cross-section of one-eighth of the tree-sized weed growing in the side yard. It’s–really–big. Well, it was. And it has friends–many friends. And it had these prickly leaves (hence the heavy work gloves…oh, who am I kidding–I’m freaked out about spiders and all kinds of bugs and always wear gloves when I work in the yard).

The gardening stuff gives me something else to think about. This week had a downer (the agent formerly interested in Savage Autumn sent an impersonal r e j e c t i o n letter), and an upper (SA made it into the second round of the ABNA contest). And I’m starting to really think about the next book, which is so much fun, but my brain needs a break sometimes, and it needs to get outside.

Well, the sequel to The Hunger Games awaits. So glad the weekend starts tomorrow!

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Posted on by Beth Hull

As I mentioned yesterday, I was reading The Hunger Games and LOVING it.

Scene at home on a lazy Sunday. Beth in sweats (like every day of the week) curled up reading (again, like every day of the week). Husband looking good as always, covered in toddler (like every minute that he is home and she’s awake–huge case of Daddy-worship).

Husband: Hey, Beth. (struggles to set Z down; unsuccessful)

Beth: (engrossed in book) Hmm?

Husband: There’s a huge pile of gourmet chocolate in the kitchen just waiting for you. (dances around room with Z)

Beth: Mmm-hmm.

Husband: An editor from a big-time publishing company called and wants to publish Savage Autumn. Million-dollar advance. (beckons parade of elephants through house for Z’s entertainment)

Beth: Mmm-hmm. I’m reading now, can we talk about this later?

Okay, so that’s not a real conversation. What Husband did say when he came in was, “Wow, it’s so weird to see you smile while you read.”

I usually scowl. It’s not on purpose, and usually not at all related to whatever I’m reading. Maybe I have bad eyesight, or my pensive face is more of a pissed-off look. Maybe the scowl is a defense mechanism developed over years of me wanting people to leave me alone while I read.  Whatever the reason for my usual scowl, The Hunger Games was so well-written, with such an intense and interesting plot, that I couldn’t help but smile.  I hope someday to write a novel that good–even if it never gets published, I would be thrilled. I would read it over and over again, applauding myself on an excellent selection of point-of-view character (Katniss is perfect), supporting cast, description (the sci-fi/future element isn’t in-your-face, but conveyed through very subtle clues in larger scenes). And the plot! Did Collins dream this up? It is so far out. Her imagination is incredible.

I don’t want to say more, because one of my friends hates spoilers, and I think she should be able to read it without any expectations (other than the expectation that it’s a freaky-amazing book).

Anyway, a thank-you to my friends Megan and Neda for suggesting I read it.

Haiku-oscope

Posted on by Beth Hull

a new week begins

thousand petals pushed to sky

the crocus blossoms

***

I was going to write something really cool here, but frankly, I’m reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (finally) and really can’t be bothered by anything. Don’t bother me until I’m done with this book. That goes for you too, Z. I think I’ll have to hire a babysitter when I read the second book in the trilogy. SO GOOD. I can’t even handle it. Suzanne Collins is my new hero.

Mood Enhancers that Do Not Come in Capsule Form

Posted on by Beth Hull

1. ice cream–the ultimate comfort food

2. learning that my mother is bffs with an editor at a big-time publishing company (I can’t speak from experience here, but I know this would cheer me up)

3. Clarkie, my cat

4. Sarah Dessen’s novels This Lullaby and The Truth About Forever

5. Pride and Prejudice on film (the BBC version…but when do I have 5 spare hours?) OR, you know, the book is okay, too

6. movie Blue Crush (I love sporty girl movies–the inspiration comes in handy for after I indulge in #1 above)

7. Louise Rennison’s book Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging

8.  movie Bend It Like Beckham (see #6 above)

9. a walk (again necessary to counteract negative effects of #1)

10. watching Z dance

11. an empty kitchen sink–no dirty dishes!

12. reading Abridged Scripts from The Editing Room

13. perusing paint swatches (see post Baby, Let’s Paint the Town Coral Expression)

14. gardening (unless there are slugs)

15. circling everything I want in the IKEA catalog

16. NAPS–mine and Z’s

17. chocolate never hurts

18. new pens and/or new diary books

19. emails from the library telling me a book I’ve been waiting for has arrived

20. having prettily-painted toenails

There are so, so many more, but rather than list them all, I think I’ll head out and enjoy some of them.

Beautiful Creatures by Garcia & Stohl

Posted on by Beth Hull

Tuesday Book Review

I’m never sure whether I should immerse myself in young adult fiction–especially contemporary fantasy–or avoid it while I’m writing. Since I’m between novels right now, it seemed safe to read this one, and I’m glad I did.

Beautiful Creatures is a whopping 563 pages of incredible setting and genius point-of-view storytelling. I finished the book a week ago and still can’t get over how well the small South Carolina town came through. The setting in Beautiful Creatures was a character on its own. The first sentence really gets this point across: “There were only two kinds of people in our town. ‘The stupid and the stuck,’ my father had affectionately classified our neighbors.” The fictional town of Gatlin comes alive through the people who live there, the weather (which Lena, the heroine, unwittingly changes with her moods), the physical mapping of the town, and through its history, linked forever to the Civil War (or, as many townsfolk call it, “The War of Northern Aggression”).

As a writer, I learned mostly from the setting, but also through the characterization. Macon Ravenwood is my favorite character in the book. Best quote: “I loathe towns. I loathe townspeople. They have small minds and giant backsides. Which is to say, what they lack in interiors they make up in posteriors” (p. 124). Hilarious. I bet the authors had a blast coming up with the dialogue.

The story is told from the point of view of Ethan Wate, the typical guy-obsessed-with-the-new-girl, Lena Duchannes. In the beginning I was reminded of the narrator of The Virgin Suicides–someone obsessed, always watching the girls, a little creepiness before the tragedy in which he really has no part. Instead, Ethan takes an active role. Selecting him as the POV character was a stroke of genius by the authors, because Lena, who the story actually seems to be about, is obnoxious throughout the whole book. She’s waiting for her sixteenth birthday, when fate is supposed to decide whether or not she will be a good witch or a bad witch. (By the way: ticking clock of approaching birthday–great method of keeping suspense up even when nothing exciting is happening.) This makes her whiny and moody, something with which I have no personal experience.

It’s late. Bottom line: Nebula Stamp of Approval.