THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO Karma or Coincidence? Countdown (Becky Kyle)

If you've read this intro already, by all means, skip right down to the guest post!

As many of you know, THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO, my second novel for young adults officially comes out March 25th from Algonquin Young Readers.

THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO tells the story of almost-16-yr-old Francesca “Beans” “Frankie” Schnell who, four years ago witnessed her baby brother, Simon, drown. Guilty and broken, Francesca has hunkered down in the shadows of her life, resolved to play second fiddle to her dead brother’s memory and to her best friend Lisette, a blonde bubbly beauty Francesca lives vicariously through. That is, until she meets a young boy named Frankie Sky who bears an uncanny resemblance to her brother. Frankie brings humor and hope to Francesca’s life, but are all the similarities between Frankie and Simon merely wishful coincidences, or could he be Simon’s reincarnation?

Curious coincidences abound in THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO —not only the overlaps between Simon and Frankie Sky, but also Bradley’s gift to Francesca, Bradley’s bird sighting, and the ties to the statue of  Saint Florian (sorry, you'll have to read to know what these are ;)). Midway through the story Francesca starts to think these events can’t really all just be coincidences, but maybe are “something bigger and magical at work.”

Have you ever experienced strange events that seemed like more than coincidence and made you wonder if fate was at work or that soul and or reincarnation exist?

Throughout the month, I've decided to pose that question to friends, some writers, others bearing other artistic talents, for a brief account of their own experience with karma, kismet or a mystical connection. I leave you to answer the question, “Karma or coincidence? Random or something more magical at work?” 

I hope you find these stories as intriguing and lovely as I do.

- gae

Today, I have writer friend and cat enthusiast Becky Kyle, contributor to Ladies of Trade Town and other anthologies, and editor of Tails from the Frontline (Wolfsinger Press, November 2014) telling a story of a near miss and some well-timed fate on Halloween...

Halloween 1998 – We had just moved to Beaverton, Oregon and I was new to the area. I finished a rose latch hook rug for my best friend, who’d lost a family member, and I wanted to find binding for it. It was 3:30 PM and I knew I could just make it around the corner to the Craft Warehouse to get what I needed before the big rush of Intel and Nike employee traffic hit.

I arrived at the Craft Warehouse and was surprised to learn that, while they sold latch hook

rug kits, they did not sell the binding material. 

They suggested I go to Joann’s Crafts, which was about a half-mile away. I figured I still had time to make it before 4:00, but got preoccupied by the staff who had always mostly ignored me before then, but had suddenly taken an interest in my project. 

I rolled the rug out and was pleased to get many compliments from the crew. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t get out of the store – the sales help wanted me to show other customers and as people came in and saw there was a show-and-tell going on, they wanted to see, too.

It was near 4:00 before I could leave Craft Warehouse. I considered the traffic and opted to still head to Joann’s so I could get the rug done and get it out to my friend. As I neared the store, I heard quite a few sirens, but that wasn’t uncommon. This was off 185, which was a very busy street.

When I arrived at the Joann’s, I asked for directions to the area where they sold rug binding. The clerk was quite abrupt and told me I couldn’t get to it. I politely asked if she might get me what I needed. 

She explained that, no, there was now a car where the rug binding was.

When I walked out of the store, sure enough I could see to the other side where a massive 1970’s sedan was sticking out the windows. An elderly woman in her eighties had lost control nd hit the window at full speed. She was at the hospital undergoing emergency treatment. 

The time she’d hit was almost exactly the time I would have arrived at Joann’s if I had set out as soon as I learned the Craft Warehouse did not carry what I needed. If the admirers at Craft Warehouse had not held me back, I would have been standing at the rack in the exact spot where the car had hit and likely would have been killed or seriously injured. 

- Becky 

Friday Feedback: Shhhhh...

shhh... don't tell anyone I'm here. 

So, Kate faked me out.

Said right here that Teachers Write was ending on the 12th.

Hmmm. Maybe she's trying to get rid of me.

So I thought LAST week, was the last Friday Feedback of the summer.

Guess I've got egg on my face.

If you missed last week, there were nice parting gifts and everything. I'm hoping a few of you will make it far enough in your writing to take me up on them soon!

So, anyway, yeah, I said last week was the last, so I lied, so shhhhh. Let's not tell anyone we're here. I mean, how can I close out the last week of Teachers Write without a Friday Feedback?

So, instead of an excerpt from a WIP from me, how about the first few paragraphs and a peek at the beautiful cover for my next YA, THE SUMMER OF LETTING GO -- since it's starting to pop up everywhere anyway.

ARC's in October. Release in March.

I can't wait for a second book.

If you'd like to post an excerpt, I'll read and give feedback. Like always. Come on. You know you want to. And don't forget THE RULES.

Happy end of summer, and happy back to school for those of you back in your classrooms already.

***

Chapter one.

It’s not even noon in not even July, yet already the sun bakes down hot and steady, making the air waffle like an oily mirage.

Lisette walks ahead of me, her blond ponytail bobbing happily, the stray strands lit gold by the sunshine that spills down through the fresh green canopy of leaves. Bradley holds tight to her hand, ducks to avoid the low-hanging branches. Prickles of sweat appear between his shoulder blades — dark gray spots against the pale blue cotton of his T-shirt that mesmerize me.

I shift my gaze to my spring green, no-lace Converse sneakers, wondering for the millionth time what it would feel like to have my hand in his.

As if he reads my thoughts, he turns for a second and smiles. My heart somersaults. I shouldn’t feel this way about Lisette’s boyfriend.

- gae

Got Paperback?

This is me in my monkey hat.  

Are you sick of me yet?

(please say no, please say no, please say no...)

It's okay, sometimes I'm sick of me too.

Still, it's a dog eat dog world out there, and writers have to promote themselves.*fn1

So, once again, here I go.

If you prefer not to read any further blatant self author book promotion, here's a lovely place to sit, instead,

looking out over my father's gardens. Feel free to stay here and relax:

Nice, right?

(Are you still here?)

If you are still reading, guess what?

Square Fish did a fabulous job with the cover! 

My paperback is out! Well, the official release date is February 5, but the ship date is 1/17 which means boxes and boxes of the The Pull of Gravity in paperback are now circulating all over the country. *fn2

Meaning this: It would make me really happy if:

a) you buy one for yourself; b) you buy one for a beloved tween or teen; c) you read it and loved it and told two friends to a) buy one for themselves or b) buy one for a beloved tween or teen.

also, it doesn't hurt *fn3 if you put up a review on Amazon.

But what would make me happiest -- at least if you are local -- is d) if you come and join me to celebrate the paperback release on 2/10 at the wonderful Huntington Public Library (it's a Friends of the Library fundraiser). If you want to read more about the launch party, you may do so HERE or HERE (you must register to come!).

If you don't come, be warned. You will be missing:

a) monkeys *fn4;

b) jugglers *fn5;

c) flame-throwers *fn6;

d) delicious cupcakes *fn7; and

e) a live, bravura performance by an internationally-acclaimed musician! *fn8.

Plus, clearly, I will do the entire reading standing in a pool. *fn9

So, see, in the end, this isn't really about me and my blatant self promotion.

This is about YOU, reading a good book, telling your friends about a good book, and having an awesome Sunday afternoon in February with live cupcakes and live music. *fn10

Also, there's a Writer's Workshop and Publishing Q&A beforehand, if that's your cup of tea. *fn11

So, that's it. I love my readers and need my readers and I'm grateful if you spread the word.

Speaking of which, my next book, still unnamed but referred to as Frankie Sky, comes soon from Algonquin Young Readers. They've launched their Fall 2103 line of galleys into the Universe and have gone live on Twitter (@AlgonquinYR) and facebook. If you're either place, you should check them out and follow them. I'm sure there are monkeys and jugglers galore! *fn13

Thanks for reading.

xo gae

footnotes:

*fn1: did you skip over that link? Because seriously, at least if you're a writer, it is one of the funniest things I've ever read. Just in case, I'll give you the link again. Hell is My Own Book Tour.

*fn2: this may be a slight exaggeration.

*fn3: it actually helps -- some Amazon algorithm that does something to do something.

*fn4: lie, no monkeys.

*fn5: lie, no jugglers.

*fn 6: lie, no flame throwers

*fn7: all completely true!

*fn8: I promise "David and David" are talented, plus, we must have some relatives in another country somewhere who will vouch for them...

*fn9: hey, I will if the Huntington Library will let me! :)

*fn10: okay fine, no such thing as live cupcakes, you say? What if I put spirulina *fn12 in them?!

*fn11: my cup of tea lately is Tazo Zen Tea (I mean, come on! Lemongrass and Spearmint?!). I'd be genuinely curious what yours is, if you want to tell me. I'm an excellent listener that way. :)

*fn12: i promise not to put spirulina in them.

*fn13: has no idea if there are monkeys and jugglers. You'll have to buy the books and open the pages to see. . . :)

Friday Feedback - A Peek at a "Vomit Draft"

Welcome to Friday Feedback. Come on! Be brave. You know you want to... :)

If you do, you know the rules:

• Does the piece "hook" you enough to make you want to keep reading. If yes, why? If no, why not?

• What doesn’t work for you (if something doesn't) and why?

• What does work for you, and why?

• If you want the same feedback, post 3 -5 paragraphs in the comments and I (and maybe some of my writer or reader friends) will chime in. 

If you want more rules than that, read HERE.

Today, I'm tossing up a piece of a vomit draft.

Sorry about the gross-out term, I learned it from my classy writer-friend James King (he really is way, gold-toe-socks classy, which is why it's funny that I learned it from him).

Btw, this is Jim's book (see what I did there? I dropped his name from James to Jim thereby showing off that he's my good friend): 

It won the second Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. It's not YA, but you can read it. There's a grouchy old guy who kidnaps his 15-yr old granddaughter for a road trip (read to see why), so you'll relate to it, even if you're still a YA. It's an excellent read. So, yeah, go buy that book, out in paperback now.

Anyway, according to the ever-reliable and eloquent Urban Dictionary, Jim didn't make the term up. A vomit draft is, "A very rough draft; Not much thought given to the full essay/article/story, the purpose is just to finish it, not judging what is being put into it. Just do a vomit draft, just get it done."

Yep. That's about right. In fact, the piece I'm putting up today is something I began a few months ago on a whim (triggered by combining some cool articles I had read) and am only about 30 pages in. Since this is the current opening, and I never allow myself to revise those till the end (*coughs*), it really is unedited. Whether this stays at all, whether it changes, or whether I even ever finish this particular manuscript, totally remains to be seen.  So far, it's narrated by a 16 year old kid named Kyle, who lives in Brooklyn, NY. The working title in my computer is Jumper, though I guarantee that will not stay the name.

So, give me some feedback, and then post yours.

Happy Friday, all.

1.     Jane Doe

The girl sits on my bed in my t-shirt and a pair of my plaid pajama pants – both way too big  – and stares at the floor. Her long brown hair, still damp, hangs over her vacant face. She’s pretty much been doing that since she got here.

I watch her from my bedroom door, unable to shake the way she looked when Dad first walked in with her, hair and clothes coated in a layer of grey-white dust as if she climbed in through a chimney.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, but she doesn’t answer.

She’s showered now, her clothes in the wash, except for the wings that hang from the back of my desk chair. Yeah, you heard me. Wings. The white costume kind, like little kids pull from a dress-up box, or wear for a play at church. 

“Okay, then,” I try again, but I seem to be talking to a ghost.

I leave her there, wordless, head back to the washer to move her stuff into the dryer. As I pass through the living room, I hear Dad, still on the phone in his office, talking in hushed voices.

Dad’s regular voice is anything but hushed. The whole world has been hushed for days now, the city blanketed in eerie quiet. Even, here, in the Heights, everything has changed. I stop and stare out a north-facing window. Nearly a week since the towers collapsed, and the burnt smell still clings to the wind, wafting across the East River, dragging its endless cloud of foggy ash.

- gae