I'm either onto something or losing it.

I think most people who know me well know that I am not into kids books. Like, picture books and middle grade and stuff like that. Those just aren't my thing at all. And, in fact, I distinctly remember that only five weeks ago, I had a conversation with a MG author in which I said, "I could see myself going from YA to adult fiction before I'd write for a younger audience." (This was not said disparagingly in any way; I was just being honest.)

I really don't know what has happened to me, but suddenly I'm really, really interested in writing a series. Like upper MG or lower YA maybe?

I keep thinking of the books that I loved, loved, LOVED when I was growing up. For several years, I was really into series like SWEET VALLEY TWINS, SWEET VALLEY HIGH, THE BABYSITTERS CLUB, and THE NANCY DREW FILES.

I think what I found appealing about them was that they were easy, fun, and the characters were going through things to which I could relate. Wanting to get their ears pierced, liking boys, having arguments with friends, losing loved ones. And you know, even when I wasn't investigating murders or dying of a cocaine overdose (Regina Morrow, I'm looking at you!), the situations in these stories always felt real to me anyway. And the absolute best part was getting to keep reading about the same characters as the series continued to find out what was going to happen to them.

So. . . I don't know. I guess I've been feeling like that might be something I want to pursue. I mean, I'm definitely still about the dark YA. But if I can get a cool series idea together for younger readers, I'd love to have the opportunity to see what I can do with it as well.

I'm still revising!

Super-locked. For my own fun and amusement, I thought I'd post the old version of a scene and the new version in case anyone is interested in checking it out.

Now, part of why I changed it is because some of the backstory changed. (Daniel was never “the smart one.” Seth was never out of control back then.) I was making alterations to make the new facts fit. And then I started feeling like this scene that was supposed to be really powerful and important got bogged down in logic. Fed up with it, I started deleting sentences and paragraphs.

And, I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy. But I think it’s drastically better now. Which is good. Unless I'm wrong...

Back home, I was trying to brush my teeth, but I was losing it. Since the bathroom shares a wall with Mom’s room and the insulation is about as thin as cardboard, I turned on the sink full blast and flipped up the switch of our rattling exhaust fan to keep Mom from hearing me.

I kept reminding myself that what I’d seen next door hadn’t been Daniel dead after passing out; it had been Daniel sleeping after passing out. It was hard to calm down, though, because for those few seconds my best friend had seemed to me very dead.

It was too much. Way too much.

I hadn’t wanted to think about it before, but Kendall was right about Isaac. During the two years I knew the guy, one thing had always been true: Isaac was stupid and reckless.

Just like me.

Isaac and I were always the ones pounding back more than we could handle, puking our guts out, and getting hangovers that would keep us down for an entire day, but Daniel was the smart one. Sure, he’d drink and get high like everyone else, but he was better at staying in control. Lately, though, he’d become stupid and reckless. As bad as Isaac and me. Sometimes worse, even.

I couldn’t handle it if Daniel died on me, too.

I cupped my hands under the faucet and splashed my face a few times. The tears were falling quickly and I was full-on sobbing now. Fucking hell. I held the edge of the counter and I lowered myself onto the fuzzy purple rug.

I cried so hard my stomach hurt. So hard I had to crawl to the toilet because I thought I was going to puke. So hard I slapped my own face to try to snap myself out of it. I’d never cried like this, not even when I found Isaac. I hated crying like this.

It had been two and a half months since Isaac’s death. That day I’d gotten what Daniel called “scared straight” and made the decision that I had to stop being a screw-up. I’d quit drinking, partying, and…well…just about everything I’d been doing. Daniel had gone the other way; he started doing everything more. But after fifty-eight days, I gave up. I failed. Just like everyone must have known I would. For our first gig without Isaac, I got drunk out of my mind. I’d never been able to face going onstage without a serious buzz going on, but trying to do it sober that night was way beyond what I was capable of. And now, I’d been next to Daniel drinking every night since.

One thing was for sure: things weren’t getting better for either of us, and if we kept it up, we could easily end up like Isaac.

I wiped my eyes and cheeks with the back of my hand. There was no way I was going to let that happen.

***

Back home, I tried to brush my teeth, but I was losing it. Since the bathroom shares a wall with Mom’s room and the insulation is about as thin as cardboard, I turned on the sink full blast and flipped up the switch of our rattling exhaust fan to keep Mom from hearing me.

I kept reminding myself that what I’d seen next door had been Daniel sleeping. But calming down was hard; for those few seconds the best friend I had left had seemed to me very. . . dead.

It was too much. Way too much.

Cupping my hands under the faucet, I threw cold water at my face until I was gasping and coughing and choking on it. Fucking hell.

I held onto the edge of the counter, and lowered myself onto the purple rug.

Then I cried so hard my stomach hurt. So hard I had to crawl to the toilet because I thought I was going to puke. So hard I slapped my own face to try to snap myself out of it.

I’d never cried like this, not even when I found Isaac. I hated crying like this.

In a way, I wanted to run back to Daniel’s. To throw him at a wall. To punch his face. Or maybe—maybe—to thank him for having enough decency today to not die on me.

***

Revising update.

I've been mostly quiet around here because I've been non-stop revising. As always, the process has been a total, well, you know, with me being EXCITED! ABOUT! NEW! STUFF! and then me being Eeyore-depressed and frustrated and feeling like I will never, ever finish this and why did I even write this book in the first place because it sucks so very incredibly much and so do I.

As of about an hour ago, I'm having an up feeling like I will finish. Eventually. I still have one new scene to write. (I hand-wrote a rough draft last week, but it's going to take a lot of work to get it up to par.) After I finish with that, I'm going to read the whole draft aloud to myself to catch errors and make additional changes that come up.

I've made some very major discoveries during this revision. For instance, the character who I thought was the protag's best friend actually isn't. (No, seriously. I just figured it out yesterday, and I was the last to know.) I also learned why I had such a hard time writing query letters during my agent search: I didn't actually know what this book was about back then.

Whoa, right?

I know.

Interesting Part 2

Super locked. There has been a lot of confusion over who Seth's best friend is in FREEFALL.

When was helping me with my query, her version included a line about Seth's "best friend" dying. (I'm pretty sure I changed it to say "friend.") When Jim put together the deal memo, he also mentioned Seth's dead "best friend." When Liesa's assistant typed up my contract, she did the same! Others mentioned it in critiques as well.

All this time, I've been thinking, People. Seth's best friend isn't dead! See, Isaac is the dead friend. The best friend, Daniel, is very much alive!

On my draft, Liesa points out a couple of place where Seth tells readers things about his friendship with Daniel that she doesn't find consistent with what we actually see of them. I've been thinking it over all these weeks, and then last night, I read through every one of Seth and Daniel's scenes.

And that's when I realized: The person who was confused about Seth's best friend was me.

All indications show that it was Isaac. In fact, if it weren't for Seth twice telling readers that Daniel is his "best friend" and Daniel saying it once in dialogue, there is nothing in this story that shows their relationship that way.

So, I removed those three "bests" in the manuscript. And now it's official that Isaac was the one. Why did it take me so long to see this?

Interesting...

Super-locked. I'm stuck on a scene I'm revising, so I went back through the ms to scan through parts I've already changed. From what I'm reading, I'm actually. . . not sure if Seth is an alcoholic anymore.

The stage fright used to be tied to the drinking in Seth's mind like this: I've always been out of control with my drinking, but I don't want to drink anymore because that's what killed Isaac and I don't want to die---> I can't perform onstage without getting wasted; it's just not possible ---> I fell off the wagon when I played that first show after Isaac died and it was one of the worst nights of my life ---> I'm not going to go on tour/play shows ever again because if I try, I'll start drinking again and I'll be a hopeless failure forever and ever.

And now, it seems to be more like this: I used to get a little buzzed to deal with my stage fright ---> After Isaac died, I started drinking all the time to get my mind off of everything ---> For the first show after Isaac's death, I got trashed beyond belief, and it was an embarrassing, miserable disaster ---> I'm getting sick of always feeling like this; I don't want to spend all my time alternating between wasted and hung over anymore ---> I don't think I have it in me to perform anymore, either.

I think there was more urgency in the first version, but the second version is probably 1) more realistic and 2) closer to what Liesa/Pulse wants to see. I'll have to see how it feels when I'm completely done to get a better idea.