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.

The Untimely Demise of Wilbur, the Pig from Charlotte's Web

I once entered a little contest for which the prompt was to write an obituary for a famous literary character. Word limit: seventy-five words. Here's my entry, coming in just under the line at seventy-four words:

Wilbur, one terrific pig, has died. He was slaughtered--a case of mistaken identity. Wilbur is survived by Charlotte's grandchildren, some sheep, a goose, and a rat. Uncle Homer expresses his sympathy to all Wilbur's friends for the sorriest mistake he ever did make. Folks wanting to pay their respects are invited to the viewing and reception at Uncle Homer's house Sunday afternoon. One terrific ham will be served, along with all the trimmings.

Three Column Conversion!

Yay! I successfully converted my two-column blog into a three column blog. Tweaks are still needed, though--I've having all kinds of trouble with the header. I'm calling it a night. I must watch my recording of America's Next Top Model.

I'm on Twitter!

OMG! I'm twittering: @danettehaworth.

U2 Concert!

U2 in the house!

Last month, I went to see U2 LIVE! They brought the house down; Raymond James Stadium in Tampa will never be the same. The stage ensemble, known as the spaceship or the claw, was massive, the effects spectacular, and the concert only established what I already knew--U2 is the world's greatest rock band. Please notice: my ticket actually reads I M Fan.

Wait till you see the pictures--wait! Don't go yet! You will not believe how close our seats were! I could see Bono's eyebrows even without my binoculars! I could see so well that I saw Larry come to the stage and I yelled at my husband to get Larry on video.

"No one's even out yet," my husband said.

"Turn it on!" I didn't have time to tell him how right I was.

Then the spotlight grew brighter and the stage smokier and the beat of Larry's drums filled the air. Yeah! Larry! I remembered how Larry has carpal tunnel syndrome and gets specially made drumsticks because banging the drums is painful for him, he's been dealing with it for years--but no time to dwell on that, sorry Larry! because Edge appeared in a spotlight, then Adam, then BONO, then all HE!! broke loose and the screaming began! My husband doesn't scream, and there were no other women by me, so I had to do all the screaming for my section. Let me just say for the record, we were well-represented.

Here, for your pleasure, are just a few of the hundred or so photos I took of the concert. I hope you enjoy them!

These first two are from videos:


This bridge spanned the gap from the stage to the catwalk. A sea of hands stretched upwards, trying to reach Bono as he sang "Beautiful Day."
This photo is my favorite.

Check Out My New Website!

Same old address, brand new website! Please check it out!


Click here to go Danette Haworth.

I'd be grateful to hear any comments, especially if you encounter glitches of any sort. Hope to see you there!

Feeling Groovy today

"Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers-it's been stuck in my head all morning, the same two lines--O, black water, keep on rolling/ Mississippi moon won't you keep on shining on me. Yes, I should have guessed the name by that, and I did! After I googled the words, that is.

I give you the video now, so you may listen and get the song stuck in your head. Pay it forward!

The Summer of Moonlight Secrets to Appear on Cover of Publisher's Catalog!

My editor just sent me an email with this wonderful news:

Our Marketing department was so enamored of the Moonlight Secrets cover that they have decided that it will be gracing the cover of our Spring 2010 catalog! . . . Every bookseller around the country gets a copy of our catalog and Moonlight Secrets is the first thing they will see when they pick it up.

WOW! This day just keeps getting better and better!

Here's the Cover for The Summer of Moonlight Secrets!

I'm thrilled to present to you the cover for my new book, The Summer of Moonlight Secrets. Brandon Dorman illustrated the cover. Isn't it awesome! I know that's kind of like saying, Isn't my child cute? but I can't help it! I'm awed by the magnitude of his gift. I hope you like it too!

Random Stuff on U2 and Copy Edits

U2 played Friday to more than 70,000 fans in Tampa, and I was one of them! You would not believe how close our seats were! I'll post photos later.

By the way, U2 fans, there are more than ten U2 references woven into the previous post--did you find them all?

Copy edits: French toast, French fries, but plaster of paris. Who knew?

It's a Beautiful Day! I'm going to see U2!

It's a beautiful day and I'm going to see U2--or maybe it's a beautiful day because I'm going to see U2.

Boy, am I excited! We bought our tickets as soon as Internet pre-sales opened months ago. Farthest away ticket--$75! We're talking a huge, outdoor arena in Tampa--you know, elevation so high you could get vertigo, don't get too close to the edge--look out! So the sweetest thing my husband did was take over the ticket buying. Now we have good seats. Don't ask me how much they cost.

Even so, this day in October will be out of control! I can't wait to see Bono! I'll probably have to use binoculars or look at those huge screens; some people think that's even better than the real thing because you can see their faces, but I prefer to watch the specks on stage because they are the real thing.

We don't have a GPS, so we'll use the old map. But parts of it are tiny, where the streets have no name. Guess if we get lost, we'll have to walk on. Hubby will navigate; I will follow.

I cannot wait!

Bono! I'm wearing my purple shirt!

The Comma: A Small but Mighty Foe

I've decided that I hate commas.

They don't know what they want. They're neither left nor right; they're ubiquitous. That is their power.

They used to precede the word too at the end of a sentence, but they've slacked off; the contemporary comma no longer sets off too and sometimes not even either.

Introductory phrase? Set it off with a comma! she barks. But wait! Look at the small print: introductory phrases are usually followed by a comma, if a pause is intended. Short introductory phrases don't require a comma.

She pounds her fist on the table. Subjective!

Oh no! Oh, no! Both correct!

I'm in copyedit mode. When I did this for Violet Raines, I felt like the success or failure of the book depended on if I deleted a comma or not. But I am wiser now, more experienced.

Still . . .

I hate you, Comma!

Signed, Sealed, Delivered!

The revised manuscript for The Summer of Moonlight Secrets has been delivered and accepted! YAY! Tomorrow, I'll receive the copyedited printout to go through--this is going fast!

Also, I've seen the cover, and it is absolutely beautiful. I couldn't have asked for or even imagined a better cover. I spent a whole weekend looking at it. Thank you, Brandon Dorman!

On Making Book Trailers

I'm absolutely in love with some book trailers I've recently discovered. I'd love for you to see them! After the jump, I've posted some links to sites with good instructions for making your own book trailer, something I'm going to try for The Summer of Moonlight Secrets.

The first two trailers were created by Maggie Stiefvater. The amazing thing about Maggie's trailers is that she created the art, composed the music, and played the instruments for both videos. Even if there were no books to stand behind them, these trailers are pieces of art.

SHIVER by Maggie Stiefvater YA novel


BALLAD by Maggie Stiefvater YA novel


SOME GIRLS ARE by Courtney Summers YA novel (attitude and mood!)



Here are a few links I found that have a lot of good information on how to use Windows Movie Maker, where to find photos, music, and even videos.

Author Jill Elizabeth Nelson gives step-by-step instructions in this easy to understand post.

Megan Crewe provides lots of information, including plenty of links for images and music.

Lynnette Bonner posted a series on how she made her book trailer. Scroll to the bottom to start from the beginning of the series.

Courtney Summers guest posted on Summer Friend and gave us the how-to.

Enjoy and good luck!

Quick Post on Fame and seeing Margaret Peterson Haddix

Okay, yesterday I said my goal was to see Wendy Mass, Tim Green, and Margaret Peterson Haddix.

Missed Wendy by fifteen minutes; nix on Tim Green, BUT . . .

I did see MARGARET PETERSON HADDIX's hair.

Here's what happened:

All systems were going down.

"Mary!" I said to my Scholastic rep. "Where's that Starbucks?"

She shook her head. "It's a long way. Head down the hall. You'll feel like you're lost, but keep going and then you'll find it."

"Thank you," I said, scratching my arm and those little pricklies across my scalp.

I beat it down the hall, the whole while scanning everyone's tags for that special color that would mean they were an author, i.e. Wendy, Tim, or Margaret. No go.

I hoofed it down the hallway, around a turn, past the lobby. Must have been half a mile by now. I needed that cappuccino.

"Lady--please!" I grabbed a woman by her shirt collar. "Starbucks!"

Sympathy flooded her eyes. She pressed a dollar into my hand. "It's a long way from here. Keep going that way, then go up an escalator."

I strode through the hallway on my hard heels--yes, I know, that's supposed to be high heels, but since they weren't made for distance, they'd become hard heels. I walked through four seasons and a different time zone before coming upon the moving stairs that would take me to nirvana.

"Double shot cappuccino," I hollered at the barista, "and throw some ice cubes in it. I need it now!" I had her toss in a piece of banana bread because my trek had depleted my energy.

Do you know how long the walk back was? I drank my whole cappuccino and ate the bread before I could even see the exhibit hall.

But what about Margaret, you ask. Ah, yes. Halfway through my journey back, I noticed people exiting a darkened ballroom with the slide show still illuminated.

Aha! says I. Someone important is here.

Slipping through the door, I saw a line that took up the length of the ballroom. Like a thick rope, it coiled around the corner. Seeing the line people all facing one way, I deduced where the author was, but I could not tell who it was, for around the table, people clustered ten deep. And they were all taller than me.

"Who is it? Who is it?" I said, jumping up and down to see.

"Margaret Peterson Haddix!" someone answered.

Right then, at the apex of my jump, I swear I saw the top of her head, dark hair, maybe even an eyebrow.

I looked at that line, I thought about my booth, and then I resumed my journey.

Another day, Margaret.

Later, I'll post about those rowdy Scholastic Book Fair people, Joe's parking technique, and photos!

I had a great time!

FAME in Orlando! (In Which I am a Groupie)

Tomorrow (October 1st), I'll be part of the Scholastic group at the FAME conference (Florida Association for Media in Education) at the Marriott World Center in Orlando. I'm to sign books and chat, but my secret mission is to meet other authors whose books I've read and get a photo with them!

My short list includes Wendy Mass, Margaret Peterson Haddix, and Tim Green.

I have three pairs of black pants and I can't decide which pair to wear. How can that be so hard?

In any case, stop by and say Hi! if you're there!

Lizardy Kitchen

Having lived in Florida for a while, I’ve become accustomed to the beautiful sunsets, the gorgeous weather, and the lush landscapes. But I’ve never gotten used to the sight of those lizards clinging to my window screens.

I was on the phone recently with my next-door-neighbor when I saw a tail dash under the chair I was sitting on. I shrieked into the phone and pulled my legs up.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” my neighbor cried.

“Oh, one of those lizards is in my kitchen!” I said.

“I had one in the house the other day, too,” she said. “I pushed him out with a broom.”

I got off the phone and returned to the scene with my broom, prancing like an elf in case he darted under my heels. He was under the table. I swiped the broom under, not far—I didn’t want to smush him, just scare him out of there. He didn’t move. I swiped again, and finally I pushed the bristles gently against him. He was an expert at playing dead. He wasn’t leaving on his own; I was going to have to remove him myself.

I took a see-through container from the cupboard and turned it upside down over him. Sliding a thin piece of cardboard under it, I now had him trapped. He was scrambling inside and leaping against the walls. I screamed all the way outside, sure he was going to escape and crawl up my arms.

I made it to the front yard and let out a loud whoop when he popped out.

Throwing her second-story window open, my neighbor from across the street leaned out.

“Are you okay?” she yelled, phone in hand, ready to dial 911.

“LIZARD!” I hollered.

She snickered, then closed her window.

They tease me now about my squeamishness and I laugh right along with them. After all, I heard one of them scream at a snake last week.

Secret Ingredients for Writing

This is Funny!

Oh my gosh! Trolling on YouTube and look what I found! Too funny!