Oh right.

I have a blog. Where I'm supposed to be writing things about....I don't know...things.

I just handed in the third book in the series YOURS TRULY, LUCY B. PARKER - which feels so weird seeing that the first one isn't even out yet (it will be, on April 20th) - so I'm giving myself four whole days to not write, which feels like an eternity. Unfortunately that time will be spent doing my taxes which is right after "stick needles in my eyes" on my list of Top 10 Ways to Spend My Time.

I figured out I wrote three books this last year. And a rewrite of a screenplay. So I"m a little tired. But beyond grateful to have the work. I received an email from a 14 year old girl in Cyprus a few weeks ago who said that my books made her feel "more normal" which, as far as I'm concerned, is the biggest compliment I could ever receive and better than any award. When I was fourteen, reading did the same thing for me - made me feel more normal. And at 41, it still does that for me, although the older I get, the more I realize that the whole idea of "normal" is kind of a crock. And that, frankly, normal people are boring. But on my not-so-good days, I yearn to be normal because somehow I think that that'll make life easier. Which it doesn't. Life is life and there are good days, and bad days, and boring days, and exciting days and the only thing you can count on is that it's always changing...maybe not as quickly as you'd like, but it DOES change. Usually once you stop trying to make it change and just relax into what's going on in the moment.

(Wow. I'm really rambling. And I'm only halfway into my first cup of coffee.)

So LITTLE MISS RED is out...haven't gotten a ton of feedback on it yet, but what's interesting is that some of the comments are along the lines of the fact that Jack - the hot guy that Sophie falls for - is sort of a jerk. Which, because this is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood and he's the wolf character - he's supposed to be. And Sophie's journey is to come to realize that. I don't know how it is for other authors, but for me, the reason I write is to feel understood...and maybe it's just because I haven't been doing this that long, but every time I read a review where I feel as if the reader hasn't quite understood my intention of what I was attempting to do, I want to go over to their house and and bang on their door and sit them down at their kitchen table and explain myself so that I can change their mind and they'll not only get it, but they'll love it.

(Did I just admit that? On a blog? A blog that is public and can be read by everyone?)

But that's not going to happen (a) because it's insane and (b) because I have too many writing deadlines to hit so I don't have the time to traipse around the country ;)

Oh - before I forget. If you live in NYC, as part of the NYC Teen Author Festival, I will be taking part of a panel discussion on Friday 3/19 from 4:15-5 in the South Court of the 42nd Street NYPL (the one with the lions) called The Boy You Can't Have.