Adam Lambert, Donna Gephart, Blueberry Goodness and Other Important Chit Chat

ADAM LAMBERT appears on American Idol tonight and tomorrow night! Yeah!You know where I'll be!

Whew, got that out of the way.

My friend Donna Gephart has great news: Her novel How to Survive Middle School (middle-grade fiction) is now in bookstores. HSMS received a starred review from Kirkus and a very nice review from Booklist. Way to go, Donna!

Last night, I dreamt of The Hotel of Blueberry Goodness. (I told you this was important chit chat!) My family and I had snuck onto the grounds, explored the hotel, and found a beautiful suite unlocked. We spent the night. I still remember what it looked like, and here's the odd thing: the setting of the dream was the same as when I dreamt of the hotel here. I wish I could really go there.

Here's what else is going on: The Summer of Moonlight Secrets comes out end of May. I'm speaking at Sawgrass Bay Elementary tomorrow, and I have two Barnes & Noble appearances coming up in May. And I'm sponsoring a writing contest for some local schools. The grand prize winner receives a signed hardcover of SOMS before it's even released! Other winners receive the new Violet Raines paperback, which features a sneak peek of SOMS. Also, I'm in revision rounds for Me and Jack, eating rice cakes, and chugging energy drinks.

Hope all is well with you! Have a great day!

FREE! NEW! BOOK GIVEAWAY! The Summer of Moonlight Secrets

Goodreads is hosting a giveaway for THE SUMMER OF MOONLIGHT SECRETS! Two review copies are up for grabs. If you'd like to read the book before anyone else (and maybe review it!), enter the contest here.

Good luck!

Adam Lambert Alert!

American Idol has finally recognized there is only one way to bring back last year's glory days--Adam Lambert will appear as mentor Tuesday and perform Wednesday. And he promised to be a nice boy!

THE GLAM IS BACK!

In other AI news, Casey James, Crystal Bowersox, and Lee Dewyze, are my call for the top three.

I did have a moment of inspiration from last night's show. If I see people fading during my presentation at IRA, I'm sending in the bagpipe man.

I'll Be in Chicago for IRA

My publisher is flying me out to Chicago for the IRA 55th Annual Convention, April 25-28th. I can't wait! My presentation is called, "How I Use Real Places, True Feelings, and Almost Breaking the Law to Write Fiction for Young People." I get to show all my slides and talk about stuff I like--I ask you, does it get any better than that?

One thing has me worried though--I just saw on Yahoo that Chicago has 10,000 cameras recording citizens on its streets. I have never hailed a cab before, and I'll be doing just that after landing at O'Hare. I hope those guys who watch the videos don't fall out of their chairs laughing.

The Easter Games, In Which I Play To Win

There is nothing I like better on holidays than having the family over and playing a cutthroat game of words. This Easter it was Catch Phrase, and my sister and I teamed up against EVERYONE ELSE to smear their faces into the ground with our prowess. When it comes to this game, I am no one's mother, no one's wife, no one's daughter--my loyalty is to my teammate and only victory satisfies my bloodlust.

I told my sister we should be on separate teams, for I know the force between us. No, she said, we must be one. And we were one. UNSTOPPABLE, UNBEATABLE, UNDEFEATED TO THIS DAY! No one can touch us. I gave her Not a radio supper, but a and she answered TV dinner. She understands erudite clues such as It's a literary word, something pastoral--a grassy-- "Knoll!" she shouted.

Rack 'em up and cry, losers. This game is ours to win. Stumble over your words like ginger while we rack up points because you run out of time. You entered this challenge knowing our reputation. Did you think it hyperbole?

My sister and I look forward to next week. It's her birthday. There will be cake and there will be ice cream and presents and singing. And when that's over, there will be THE GAME.

What Boys Say

When little boys sit in my van eating French fries from Burger King, they think I'm not listening.

I am.

Boy 1: My dad rents movies and copies them. He knows it's illegal, but he doesn't care.
**
Boy 2: What are the three forms of matter?
Boy 1: Water, gas, and POOP!
Boys: HAHAHAHAHAHA!
**
Boy 2: Do you kiss your brother?
Boy 1: No, I think it's against the law.
**
Boy 1: Do you still have lice?

Middle Grade Authors

I have joined a secret society of middle-grade authors. While you are watching The Hills, we are meeting in the basement of cyberspace, plotting our dominance in the blogosphere. We are authors and illustrators and miscellaneous others. We will interview, review, and discuss, and we want you in our world. Even now, we make plans for topics you cannot ignore.

As of yet, we are unnamed, but make no mistake--we plan to take over the world.

Resistance is futile.

American Idol Rolling Stones Night--HOT!

He's young! He's hot! He's fresh!

Last night was Rolling Stones night on American Idol and Adam Lambert rocked the house with "Satisfaction," leaving most of us in shock on our couches, desperate for more.

Oh, wait--that was last year, when American Idol was exciting.

I've been told to let go of Adam, whom I compare every AI contestant with and find them lacking. Adam is so last year, someone has told me. Well, sorry! I just remember the days of my youth, last year, which was my first year watching American Idol, and I can't help but recall how pumped up I felt after each of Adam's performances (and sometimes Allison's). He was hot energy delivered via satellite. I pumped my fist, I sang along, I voted--if I'd had a lighter, I would have flicked it.

The next morning I would wake, watching Adam prance across the inside of my eyelids. I couldn't wait to get started on my day. People with tremendous gifts inspire me in my writing, even if what they do resembles nothing I punch out on the keyboard. It's seeing them wrench their gift to its fullest that sets me on fire. A night after Adam and I'd hammer out three days' of writing in two hours.

I opened an iTunes account because of Adam. And that's the standard I am now setting my voting by--will I pay to download this song? No, not really.

Forgetting Adam (ha! Like I ever will!), here are the people I like best: Crystal Bowersox. I bet if you traced her family tree, you'd find Janis Joplin hanging off a branch. Casey James. He's got that cool raspy voice I love, and he's the only guy singing upbeat songs. AI contestants--I have my own problems, please don't bring me down in song.

And now for AI contestants only--SUMMER FRIEND'S TIPS FOR WINNING AMERICAN IDOL:

* If you are a guy, wear a wallet chain.
* Five o'clock shadow always looks good. (Must be 18 or over for this tip.)
* If you can't dance, don't. (You know who you are.)
* Clip your nails. (Again, you know who you are.)
* If you are a girl, wear weird combos like cocktail dresses and combat boots.
* Be quirky, but not goofy. (A fine line there--I submit for proof Megan Joy flapping her arms like a bird, to much mockery from the judges.)
* Don't be 16.

And the most important thing of all:
Have a moment. Please review all Adam Lambert cuts for this.

Adam Lambert — Satisfaction Video - Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

Get your big pants on! It'sHammyTime!

First Review for The Summer of Moonlight Secrets

I've received my first official review of The Summer of Moonlight Secrets!

From The Children's Book Reporter: "Danette Haworth created a cast of lovable, believable characters, and put them in an absolutely incredible setting." Please visit The Book Report and read the whole review.

I'm so happy!

Freckled, Irish Pupils, Vampires, and Insomnia

The optician told me my eyes are in really good shape.

"Did you know you have freckles on your eyes?" he asked.

"Cool," I said.

"That means your eyes have sun damage."

Oh. I thought it meant that my Irishness pervaded even my eyes. The doctor went on to tell my that my pupils were unusually large All the better to see you with, heh-heh, and that he didn't even need to perform the usual dilation.

I left with a slight prescription and the doctor's opinion that the $2.00 cheater glasses were working well enough for now.

Later, I wondered about my unusually large pupils. Being an amateur photographer, I knew that my F-stops were allowing in more light.

I am a nocturnal being.

I checked my cuspids but saw no fangs. I am not related to Edward, Barnabas Collins, Nosferatu, or even Dracula. No, I'm afraid the problem is simple and much more common: insomnia. Now this doesn't relate to freckled, big pupils, but I had a rotten night of sleep, so I'm going to travel down this tangent.

Here's a link to ten famous insomniacs and their unusual approaches to the problem. I like entry #2: Amy Lowell, poet: in a hotel, Lowell hired five rooms--one to sleep in, and empty rooms above, below, and on either side, in order to guarantee quiet.

Another website tells me that more women than men suffer from insomnia. They discuss a litany of reasons why. Silly male doctors. Here's the real reason your wife can't get any sleep: She weighs half as much as you do. When she rolls over, you feel nothing. When you roll over, she feels like she's cresting a water bed with no baffle. Also, she does not snore.

In the meantime . . .

My Dad's Name and Being an Air Force Kid (Don't you dare say brat!)

In doing some Internet research for my current revision, I found my dad's name on a memorial brick for Air Force veterans. I was just trying to see if I could find any references to his AF career, so it shocked me to the point of tears to see this memorial instead.

My father loved being in the Air Force. He couldn't wait to get out of his one factory coal town. After he enlisted, he first worked as a ham radio operator, a job he enjoyed. He had a series of assignments that took him (and later us) all over the world and he made friends everywhere.

One of the best parts of my childhood was living on base, McGuire AFB, New Jersey. There's no such thing as being a new kid on an Air Force Base. Everyone's new. The homes were townhomes, arranged as three sides of a square, the open side being a huge playground. After school, we all spilled out onto the field to join the kickball game. I had a best friend on my first day. (I was pretty good at kickball.)

It was the only time we ever lived on base. My dad was a recruiter, and you can't find new recruits on base. My almost three years in New Jersey wiped out the English accent I arrived there with, but moving around so much has mixed up my dialect. Most people ask me if I'm from Canada. I don't know why, but I like that.

My dad grew up in Pennsylvania. He said "crick" instead of "creek." "Pitza" was picked up from local joint, loaded with pepperoni and onions. My mom loved his accent and thought he was funny. They met while they were both on dates with other people. Two months later they were married.

That darn brick. Ah, me.

Star Wars Flash Mob Takes Over Mall

Better than a convention--a FLASH MOB!

VIOLET RAINES paperback is out!

The paperback edition for Violet Raines Almost Got Struck by Lightning is out today! My favorite element of the new cover is the footbridge. The artist captured it perfectly; it looks dangerous and rickety, and I swear if Violet doesn't look like she's swaying on it.

When I was younger and had to sell cookies, we were taught to say, "How many boxes should I put you down for?" If you want to add Violet Raines Almost Got Struck by Lightning to your bookshelf, check out the Violet Raines giveaways on Twitter and Goodreads.

Happy Tuesday!

American Idol Season 9 Predictions

Call your bookies, I'm laying down some predictions for what I think will be American Idol Season 9's Top Ten.

I just finished watching the recording from last night, and I wrote down eight names, figuring the other two would be filled by contestants to whom they haven't given air time (so they can pull a big upset later). By the time I got to my computer, I could only remember impressions of six of them. BAM! Two people cut already.

Here are my early predictions for the top ten:

Andrew Garcia--Can you believe what he did with Paula's song? He put me in a smokey lounge with his cool rendition. Very excellent!

Haely Vaughn--I liked her little laugh at the end of her song. Energetic, big voice, and young!

Lilly Scott--This girl is cool. From her straight blue-platinum hair to her jazzy voice, she has got the goods. I hope she makes it to the top five.

Casey James--Plays guitar, cool bluesy voice, and looks like Brad Pitt. Don't be surprised if he wins. Brad Pitt! I'm just sayin'.

Didi Benami--Range! Wow!

Crystal Bowersox--Janis Joplin reincarnated with a guitar. She's good.

Tonight, more people will get cut, maybe some of the ones listed here. If so, I'll have to eat crow. If not, remember--you read it here first!

A Plea to My Husband from Our Garage

O Master of the house,

I am blighted and ashamed. Lift your hand to me, and I will be restored. Once, I stood, open and ready before you. Now my contents spill over like vomit from a drunk. Your neighbors to the south snicker as they pass; your own children hold their noses against my stench. In shame, they lift their scooters and roll out through the house. In shame, they enter only through the front door. In shame, my mouth remains shut.

But you, my master, have the power to lift this ruin from me. Remember when I was new, when you saw that I was good and housed your car and not trash in my belly. Do this for me this weekend, master, that I may lift my door and show my glory to your neighbors. He is good, they will say. We were mistaken. Your children will access my innermost parts and the feet of your bride will alight upon my floor once more.

And for you, I will house you in comfort and organization forevermore.

Kids in the Hall--Not Enough Caffeine

Having trouble tweeting today, but MARY, this is for you!

Barbara O'Connor Blurbed My Book!

I'm so excited! My editor sent The Summer of Moonlight Secrets to a writer I respect and admire--Barbara O'Connor. Barbara read the ARC and is providing this blurb and has given me permission to blast it into all corners of cyberspace!

“The Summer of Moonlight Secrets is like nothing I've read before: the perfect combination of intrigue, suspense, humor, and folklore. With characters so real you'll think you've met them and a gloriously unique setting, Danette Haworth delivers the whole package.” —Barbara O’Connor, author of How to Steal a Dog and Fame and Glory in Freedom, Georgia

YAY! Thank you, Barbara!

A Manatee with His Little Friends at Blue Spring

More than two hundred manatees lounged and played in Blue Spring run last week. Manatees are mammals, and though you wouldn't think so, they basically have no blubber. When river temperatures get too cold, manatees migrate to warmer waters. Blue Spring is a popular destination for them.

They're known as sea cows, but their closest relative is the elephant! Gentle giants is another nickname. You wouldn't believe how graceful these creatures are. At times, they twirled slowly, beautifully, like aquatic ballerinas. They looked like they were smiling. A couple of them launched out of the water like dolphins, to the joy of the onlookers crowding the docks.

The Thing that Courtney Summers, Author of SOME GIRLS ARE, Doesn't Want You to Know

Even before I read Some Girls Are, I knew I wanted to interview Courtney Summers again. If you follow Courtney on Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, Goodreads, Flickr, AuthorsNow! BlipFM, FriendFeed, her blog, her book trailers, and countless other places (which can all be accessed through her website), then you know she never actually stops working.

I began to realize this after Some Girls Are was accepted and was going through the usual editing/proofreading rounds. Courtney spoke of being so many thousands of words into another draft--a new draft. How is this possible? I thought. There aren't enough hours in the day.

But what if she works into the night. What if she works all night? A shudder went through me. Courtney is Team Edward, but even vampires sleep. I went through her posts, and one word stood out that explained everything: ZOMBIES.

They never sleep; they don't need to eat; and they don't stop for anything!

Just think about it.

In any case, I was very happy when Courtney said yes to an interview with Summer Friend. I recently read her young adult fiction, Some Girls Are, and was taken by not only the tight writing and the excellent pacing, but by the way Courtney sent me back to the crowded halls of my own high school. Even though I'd never experienced the events in the book, the atmosphere, the attitudes, and the crucible that is high school were so accurately depicted in this book that I found myself once again caught but unwilling to look away from the machinations of a group to which I could never belong. For my full review, scroll down or click here.

And now, on to the interview!

Welcome, and thank you Courtney for your visit! Let's get right into it.

Some Girls Are was so intense. When you were writing, how did you come off the intensity to merge back to real life?

It's funny (well not really funny, but), but the writing and publication of Some Girls Are marks an extremely difficult time in my life. My grandfather, who I was very close with, died, and I experienced some personal upheaveals in 2009, when it was being prepared for publication. So I was basically sandwiched between the intensity of what was happening on the page and what I was going through when I wasn't writing; there honestly wasn't a lot of breathing room. Maybe that benefitted the book in the long run, but it wasn't until I finished the book that I was able to decompress and sort merge back to reality completely.

I know how hard that was for you when your grandfather died. I'm so glad that he got to see you succeed with Cracked Up To Be and to know that you were doing something you loved and excelled at.

An odd little detail I loved in Some Girls Are was that Regina found that secret spot where the volleyball nets were. I found a similar spot in my high school where the gym’s balcony had a folding partition. Were you like Regina—finding secret hiding spots and skipping out?

I was too much of a chicken to skip out! And I always wanted to! I wish I'd found a folding partition. My friends and I never ate in the cafeteria, so we spent lunch period searching for relatively quiet places to eat, but it was hard to find a private spot that hadn't been claimed. I remember the first--and last time--we ate on the steps outside of the drama room. Prime real estate!

Both CUTB and SGA deal with the inner workings of the popular group. Where did you exist in the high school hierarchy?

I didn't even exist on it! I was in a group of people that sort of hung around the outside. It was a good spot to observe, but sometimes I really wanted to matter more than I felt I did.

You have definitely found your niche now!

As Regina began to exact her revenge, I couldn’t help but feel a little bloodthirsty. How did you feel as you wrote those scenes? What music or other things helped keep you in that mood?

I actually loved writing those scenes. A lot. Probably too much, maybe. :) But they were so vicious and driven by raw emotion and it was fun to tap into that place while writing. Honestly, I was so amped to write those points in the book--because I knew the biggest moments in the book would be those moments--that it wasn't hard to get me in the mood to do so or keep me in the mood to do so.

Regina’s parents were largely absent and Regina didn’t confide in them. Can you give us a little backstory on their nescience?

I think when a book is about bullying, people really expect or want parents to play a larger role. They don't in Some Girls Are. The book isn't about them. I made that choice, not out of convenience, but because that's a reality for many teenagers. Regina's parents are largely absent because of their jobs, and they are largely unaware because--exactly, as you said--Regina doesn't confide in them. Growing up, I had a very close and very communicative relationship with my parents (I still do), but when I didn't want them to know something, they didn't know it (Hi, Mom & Dad!). I've said this elsewhere, but I don't think someone is ignorant because they are unaware of every thing that goes on in another person's life (whether that person is their child or not), and I definitely don't think you have to be clueless to be deceived, to be misdirected. Regina's mother attempts to find out what is going on and Regina misdirects her at every opportunity. Keeping secrets, manipulating truths, is--bad as it sounds--pretty easy. :) Annndd it was sinister to end this answer on a smiley, wasn't it?

Ha! You keep us wondering, Courtney. Very good point on the misdirection--I hadn't thought of that before, but you're right. Misdirection is easier/better than an outright lie, because misdirection takes only a nudge, just a slight angle off, to prevent anyone from seeing the truth. Also, I think sometimes parents might be relieved to not know the truth in its full ugliness, because that ignorance allows them to not have to act (in a situation in which they might not know what to do). They can tell themselves, Oh, it's just teenager stuff; everyone goes through it.

Courtney, thank you so much for taking the time to visit with us. Readers--intrigued? Check out Courtney's website to read excerpts from Some Girls Are and don't forget to watch the trailers--they're excellent!

Book Release Jitters

Over on Verla Kay's, there's a discussion going on about the anxiety and anticipation as the release date for your book arrives. Violet Raines was published end of summer 2008, and The Summer of Moonlight Secrets will be out May 2010.

Here are some true things I've learned:

There will be no big ceremony heralding the stocking of your book on shelves (but you will be exquisitely aware of it).

When you last went to the bookstore, there were three copies left. Your mother just went by and saw only two. "Who could have bought it?" she will say. You live in a town with more than two million people.

Not everyone will like your book. Some of them will post their reviews.

Some people WILL LOVE your book and some of them will post their reviews.

People who hardly know you will ask you for free copies.

You will love those who love your book. They are the best people.

Your family and friends think you are making the big bucks now. They want to know how much.

You will scour the Internet looking for your title, but you will be afraid to click into the Search results.

Young people will send you emails saying that you wrote a perfect book and they are having the same problems as your main character. You will almost cry over these emails.

You will receive handwritten letters expressing joy over your book. Most of these will be printed in pencil. You will buy pretty stationery to write back in your own handwriting.

You will write another book.

Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers

Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers opens with a heart-pounding, thoughts-racing incident, and Summers lets up only for a second to give the reader a chance to breathe before she puts the hold on again. Her second novel for young adults is intense and real.

The premise for SGA is simple: Spurned by the popular crowd of which she was once a part, Regina Afton retaliates. But, oh, the complexities that Summers weaves into this design.

SGA is so tight, so fast, so intense--just overall excellent. The feelings in it are true, and even for those of us who weren't in the popular circle, we know the machinations, so the downfalls and the vengeance are excellent. Regina suffers through a good part of the story like a boxer who refuses to fall, then she comes out swinging. One can't help but revel as Regina exacts her revenge. (I read with blood dripping off my teeth, a wild look in my eyes.)

Summers draws the high school experience with a fine hand: loving but oblivious parents, parents who are largely absent, secret hiding places of the school building in which to hide out for a while, and of course all the drinking, drugs, swearing—none of it gratuitous, all of it real.

In both Some Girls Are and Cracked Up To Be (Summers’ first novel), Summers ends without putting the characters in a circle holding hands in field of daisies (where of course they'd be singing, "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing.") I think these are realistic endings, the only kind of endings for YA readers who know that life doesn't dot all the i's or cross all the t's.

Books like this become a friend to the reader because the secret feelings of being in high school--the insecurities, the ambitions, the alienation--are laid bare for all to see. You know that old writerly saying--"Open a vein"? Courtney Summers has done it with this book.

I recommend this novel for mature YA readers. I also recommend it for writers—Some Girls Are is the epitome of tight writing and excellent pacing. I guarantee you’ll turn every page in one sitting.

Suprise at a Book Signing

Another flash fiction for you. The prompt for this was to describe the scene at your first book signing, where you encounter a surprise visitor. My flash comes in just under the line at seventy-four words.

* * *

My brother.

“You bastard!” he yelled. “You stole my book!”

The crowd gasped.

“Security!” I shouted, then turned to him. “The court already settled that—my handwriting, my fingerprints, my book.”

He fought as they escorted him out. He threw a right hook, forgetting that arm has never been the same since he shattered the bone last year. Long time in a cast. I’d had to write everything for him, bills, grocery lists--everything.

Scholastic Book Clubs Editor Answers Five Questions

Ever wonder how a book makes it into Scholastic Book Clubs? The answer to that and more are in this video, featuring Scholastic Book Clubs Editor David Allender. (For the full post, click here.)

Maggie Stiefvater's Many Talents

Oh, sure--you probably know Maggie Stiefvater from her bestselling books, Shiver, Ballad, and Lament, but did you know she could do this?

Goodbye, Mr. Snowman (I will miss you.)

The Boss! Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"

The Boss! My favorite Christmas song of all. Yes, I will post this every year.

Jingle Bells--New Lyrics!

Jingle Credit Card Bills

Dashing through the store,
Credit card in hand,
Heading for the toys,
Last Star Wars in land.

Knock some ladies down,
Do it with great cheer,
You snooze, you lose, you've got to cruise,
Christmas Day is near.

Ooh!

Jingle bells, credit bills,
Ca-ching-ching all the way,
O what fun it is to buy
When you don't
Really have to pay.

Jingle bells, credit bills,
Ca-ching-ching all the way,
O what fun it is to buy
When you don't
Really have to pay.

Student Trailer for Violet Raines!

I stumbled across this very nice trailer by a student, posted by "mrsbwimmer" from an elementary school. Kudos and thank you! (There is a brief ad in the beginning.)

In the Twinkling

And today, a flash fiction for you.

In the Twinkling

When he’s done whacking us, our old man leans across our bed, his tattooed arms stretching out like spider legs. “Next time’ll be worse.” He straightens up and clenches his fists, daring us to make a sound. Don’t matter. Me and my brother agreed a long time ago we wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him, anyways.

He kicks our bed with his cowboy boot and stomps downstairs. We don’t move. I know my brother’s crying ’cause I hear him sniff, but he don’t say nothing.

“You okay?” I ask. It hurts to turn my head, but I need to look at my brother’s face. His right eye’s swollen; going to be hard to hide that tomorrow. Probably have to skip school till it heals ’cause he told us if they find out, they’ll put us in foster homes and we’ll never see each other again.

“I’m okay.” He closes his eyes and tears squeeze out.

Another thing we agreed on is we don’t call him Dad, even though he is. Mom never woke up after one of their parties and we buried her a few days later.

I try to take a full breath but something stabs my insides.

The screen door slaps against the frame. Voices float up with the smoke, and we hear the crack of beer cans. Music rattles the window. The walls vibrate. I struggle up from the bed, careful not shake my brother, and look out the window. Bunch of old cars in the driveway, another party, more people coming and him outside talking. He drops a beer can and crushes it with his boot. Then, like he knew I was there, he looks up and turns his eyes right on me.

My heart slams against my chest and I drop into bed. My brother groans. Something sharp hurts me inside and I hold myself trying to make it go away but then he’s there, in our doorway, his body bowed and tight like a coyote. He takes the room in two steps, grabs me up and slams me against the wall beside my brother. Pulling the back of our hair, he pounds our faces into the wall because we wouldn’t listen, that’s all he wanted, was it that hard to listen, you stupid bastards. He stops for a moment, but when we slide down, he clutches our throats and shakes us, throws us on the floor. His boot hammers my head, finding the soft spots. I stretch out my hand for my brother.

And then, like I been holding my breath too long underwater, I burst out and I am free. Light shoots from my fingertips. My brother is beside me, golden and beautiful. He throws his head back and laughs and his mouth is filled with light.

I wipe my eyes. Instead of tears, little white flames cling to my fingers. I gently blow them like dandelions and they float around us, feathers of light, twinkling with brightness.