Log-Lines from the Edge of Ridiculousness

Last week I braved my fears and threw my attempt at a log-line for my book out to the masses for feedback.  And what feedback I got!  Such encouraging, kind, constructive words from so many of you…I’m still chewing through it all, but I’m feeling better about the concept.

We really Are Not Alone…and it rocks.  *big grins*

One suggestion that I found really helpful was to compare the book to popular movies or books that already exist.  While the hubster and I were discussing this idea, the conversation drifted, as it generally does, into the ridiculous.  Soon we weren’t talking about my book at all, but saying things like:

Beverly Hillbillies meets The Breakfast Club

Five nouveau riche hillbilly highschoolers move to Beverly Hills and find themselves in detention after refusing to conform to privileged private school rules.

or

Uncle Buck meets Ghost Busters

Unemployed bachelor and all-around slob, Buck babysits his brother’s rebellious – and ghostly – teenage daughter and her cute – and slimy – younger brother and sister.

We spent a decent amount of time cracking up at our new game and very, very clever book premises.  (To be fair, the hubster was home sick that day, jacked up on cold medicine…and I’m all a muss with preggo hormones…so things probably sounded far funnier to us than they will to any of you.)

As we were cackling and patting ourselves on the back for our wit and humor, it dawned on me how this could easily turn into hours and hours of fun – or, at the very least, a blog post.  :)

So here are some log-lines for unwritten books based on the idea of marrying popular movies/books/tv shows together.

300 meets 18 Again

King Leonidas – trapped in the body of his swinging grandfather – must lead a force of 300 men to fight the Persians while maintaing his bad-ass reputation, while his grandfather, trapped in King Leonidas’ much younger body, decides to re-live his youth.

How to Train Your Dragon meets Pride and Prejudice

Sparks fly when spirited but clumsy Elisabeth Bennet meets single, rich, and powerful dragon-slaying Viking Mr. Darcy.

Training Day meets Top Dog

On his first day on the job as a narcotics officer, a rookie cop works with a rogue detective who wasn’t what he expected: a dog.

Footloose meets Diehard

A city boy moves to small-town USA where he gives a local terrorist operative a dose of their own medicine through the medium of rock and roll and dancing.

Seabiscuit meets Boondock Saints

An undersized depression-era racehorse sets out to rid Boston of evil.

Elf meets Dirty Harry

After inadvertently wreaking havoc on the elf community due to his ungainly size and love of his gun, a man raised as an elf in the North Pole is sent to San Francisco to track down a serial killer.

UHF meets Jersey Shore

A local public TV station gets a new owner – a 20-something New Jersey-ite with orange skin, sky-high bouffant, and a vapid lifestyle.  Against all odds, the station becomes a big hit, with all sorts of gags and wacky humor from her friends.

Alright, that’s plenty from me – I want to hear what you’ve got!  What are some story combinations so ridiculous that they have you laughing out loud?

Napping, Fried Chicken, and Pedicures: Arguing w/ Self

This post is utterly uninspired.

Let me tell you what I’d rather be doing right now:

Napping.

Eating fried chicken.  The extra-crispy kind from KFC that’s guaranteed to take minutes, if not hours, off your life with every bite.

Getting a pedicure.

Better yet, eating fried chicken while getting a pedicure, followed up by a very lovely nap.

I’ve promised myself that if I can knock out at least one blog post today, I’ll give myself that nap.

“What about the fried chicken?” I argue back with myself.

“No fried chicken,” I firmly reply.  ”You’ll eat it and then just feel gross.  You don’t really want it.”

“Yes, I do,” I say obstinately.

“No, you don’t,” I insist.  ”Look, do you want a nap or not?”

Pouting.  ”Yes.”

“Then you need to write a blog post.”

“If I write a blog post can I get a pedicure AND a nap?”

“Not today.  Today, just a nap.”

“What if I write a REALLY GOOD blog post?”

“Nope.  No pedicure.  Just a nap.”

Crosses arms in front of chest, scowls at the wall.  ”Fine.  I’ll write a blog post.  But it’s not going to be good.”

Impatiently.  “Just write the damn post.”

There you have it, folks.  My inner dialogue…with myself.  Or should I call it monologue, since it’s only me, talking(arguing) to(with) me?

And maybe that’s cause for concern, the fact that I can carry on entire arguments with myself…

You know what?  I’m not gonna worry about that right now.  This blog post is finished, and I’m off to score a nap.

ROW80 Check-In: Week 4

Hey y’all!

Week four was satisfying. Reading, writing, exercising…all went well. There wasn’t a whole lot of overachieving going on, but I nailed each goal (except one), which is enough for me at the moment. The exception was the ‘do something good for myself’ goal (*scrunches up nose*), but I’ll do better this coming week, promise.

Hey, and you guys, I absolutely loved getting feedback on writing log-lines (and blurbs), and can’t wait to spend some time this week playing with your suggestions. Thanks – like, a ton!

The really, really good news is that I think we’re looking pretty darn good, homeschool-wise. If that aspect of my life is going smoothly, all the other pieces fall into place relatively easily.

Birthday boy!

Today marks my oldest child’s tenth birthday! We’re super pumped – at our house, we celebrate birthdays for a full week. Birthday weeks are everybody’s favorite because it’s a week chock-full of fun, fun, fun. So I might be a little more absent online than normal, partying my booty off to celebrate a decade with one of the coolest, most remarkable young men I’ve ever known. Go ahead and be jealous! Or, better yet, come over and join us in the fun. We know how to have a good time!

Wishing each of you a happy, productive week!

LEAVE A CAPTION SATURDAY

Rules:  Look at picture.  Leave your caption in the comment section.  Best caption wins…nothing.  But hey, it could be fun!

“How long do I gotta sit here before it hatches?”

Quick Giggle: The Bark Side

I’m sure everybody and their dog (ba-dum-bum.  I’ll be here all week, folks.) has seen this by now.  But, oh my goodness, isn’t it just the best thing since sliced bread?  I dare you to watch and not grin!

May the Force be with you (bark).

Hives

I’m breaking out in hives.

For the past nearly two months, I’ve been sweating in solitary confinement over writing a log-line for my book.  The solitary confinement has been self imposed because, per my usual ridiculousness, I hate the idea of trying something, sucking at it, and then looking stupid in front of all you lovely people.

But sometimes (okay, really, probably all the time), a girl needs feedback.

Some basics first, for those of you reading my blog who aren’t writers – a log-line is a single sentence that tells what a book or story is about.  Kristen Lamb has a frigging fabulous post on writing log-lines – one I’m a little embarrassed to admit I can pretty much recite verbatim.  (That’s embarrassing because I still have this sneaky suspicion that I’m failing miserably in my log-line writing attempt.  Hence this post.)

When I first began writing three years ago, I was clueless.  Everything about my start in writing was @$$ backwards.  My pants were in charge and I was flying by the seat of ‘em.  All I knew about the story I was writing was that I was trying to get my character to a specific destination.  The why’s for getting there weren’t important to me when I began.  *cringe*

Several months after I started writing, I somehow realized (among a plethora of other smack-myself-in-the-forehead-I’m-going-to-be-lucky-if-this-thing-is-salvageable epiphanies) that I needed to figure out where the story was going.  So I stopped and began my first feeble attempt at plotting.  At that point, the book became three books.  After the drafts of those three books were finished, I realized that the story hadn’t tied up as neatly as I would have liked, and so a fourth was born.  Now, three years later, I’ve got four books drafted, all tightly knotted together, the first book nearly polished enough for beta-readers, and I’m trying to figure out how to go about this log-line crap.  Do I write one log-line for each book?  Or do I write one for all four?

(And let it be known to the writing-deities of the universe that I am well aware of how @$$ backwards it is to work on the log-line after the story is written.  I see my folly now.  It will not be repeated when I start a new book, I swears…)

I’ve been working on one for all four, partly because I’m being lazy (shut up, I know – writer’s aren’t supposed to be lazy.  I’m playing my third trimester card here), and partly because while each book definitely has its own story to tell, in the end, all four books come together as a very solid whole.

But the problem with writing one log-line for a four-part series is that I’ve ended up with what I’m sure is the world’s longest run-on sentence.  And also, I’m not sure if a log-line for the whole series is the best way to represent a single book.  I don’t know; maybe I need to do both – one log-line for each individual book, and one for the series as a whole.

Oh, lordy.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve got so far – one log-line for the entire series.  Have a looky:

Abandoned in the woods as an infant, and brought up in a family that despised her, a teenage girl places her trust in an other-worldly stranger hoping to discover what she really is without being caught by either of the two men who claim to be her father: one, who wants to kill her for what she’s not; the other, who’s intent on using her as a weapon because of what she is.

Thoughts?  Does it catch you?  Does it make you want to read?  Or does it drone on and on to the tune of more YA white noise?  Perhaps I ought to throw a vampire in there for good measure (*giggle, snort*)…

I would heart, heart, HEART your feedback, lovelies – from all of you, writers or no.

I Could Fly

When I was a little girl, I could fly.

Every recess you could find Little Jo Blu, as my grandfather called me, making a bee-line for the swings.  I would stay there for as long as I could, pumping my legs as hard as I could, soaring into the sky.  I could fly, and fly I did…usually donning an imaginary red cape very similar to the one Super-Woman wore.

I don’t really remember much about flying in the school-yard.  It seems like there must have been someone alongside me, but I can’t remember who.  The memory is isolated and foggy.  All I can really recall is the feeling I’d have in that achingly brief moment when my swing would reach as far as it could go, and for a instant – a fraction of a breath – I’d be suspended in air, weightless and free.  Then gravity would wrap its firm fingers around me – a reminder of just how earth-bound I was.

It never got old, that feeling of suspension.  The feeling that if I believed hard enough, I could become a bird, or at least fly like one.

Last week, as I was lying in bed wide-awake, trying to talk my frazzled mind into going to sleep, this memory (among others) careened into my brain.  I can’t figure out what prompted it, but I miss it.  Miss being so utterly lost in the feeling of swinging, in the power of imagination, that for the briefest of moments, you are what you dream you are.

These days my dreams are different.  I don’t daydream about flying.  I haven’t had an imaginary red cape in decades.  I dream about a house that cleans itself.  A dog that doesn’t shed, or eat poo.  Meals that make themselves.  Clocks that count seconds a little more slowly.

Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, I forgot about flying.  It left me.  No, that doesn’t sound right.  I think I left it.  At some point in my life I decided it was silly.  Too fanciful.  Unrealistic.

I think I need to go find a swing, and remember.

ROW80 Check-In: Week 3

First of all, let me say to all you who stopped by and left the sweetest, most encouraging words last week, THANK YOU.  I’ve gone back and re-read all your encouragement several times throughout the week – it’s meant so much to me.  If I could squeeze each and every one of you, I would.  Thanks, so much, from the bottom of my heart.

Last week’s check-in turned out to be the start of a week-long pit-stop for me.

With some carefully-worded guidance from my sweet, enduring husband (who knows full-well just how ugly my pregnancy listening filter can make any words, no matter how kind), I decided to all but cut myself off from the web, and focus on the most pressing issue at hand: our homeschool curriculum.

Thankfully, after two months of tears, tripping down the wrong paths, pulling out our hair, etc., I think we’ve finally got it figured out.  The week has been spent diving into this new curriculum, and I’m seeing all the signs that we’ve found one that works: the boys are happy and willing to do their work, sweetZ’s tickled to have her mommy-time back, and I’ve got a couple spare hours a day I can devote to writing/blogging/WANA-ing.  This coming week will really be the true test for all that, since I didn’t write a sentence – blogging or otherwise – last week.  Instead, I snuggled with my girl, napped when I was tired, and had fun helping my boys along.  I’ll add back in my writing responsibilities this week, and see how it goes.

Even though last week was less-than-stellar, goal wise (with the exception of the wholesome brekkie thing, and the reading thing), I’m satisfied.  Some problems, if you don’t stop everything to fix them, will grow into something wholly crippling.  This was one of those problems.  Any homeschooling parent lives with a constant nagging shadow following them around – the fear of somehow failing their kids in a way that will cripple their chances at becoming a successful adult.  It’s a powerful fear, one that will bring me to my knees faster than just about anything.  Last week was one of those weeks, but I’m finally feeling that burden beginning to lift.  Phew.

Hoping your week went well, sweet friendlies!  Sorry I’ve not been to any of your blogs over the past week, but I’ll get back into the swing of blog reading in the coming days.  Much love to you all!

LEAVE A CAPTION SATURDAY

Rules: Look at the image below.  Write a caption in the comments.  Best caption wins…nothing.  But hey!  It could be fun!

“I’ll give you ten seconds to get outta here before I pump your guts full of lead.  One…two…TEN!”

Quick Giggle: Total Eclipse of the Heart…Literally

Total Eclipse of the Heart.  80′s power-ballad love-song staple, right?  But the video…oh, the video was(is) so ridiculous, it’s a very easy target for mocking.  Someone took the job of mocking it very seriously, and dubbed in their own lyrics, describing oh-so-poetically what’s happening in the video:  “I walk onto a terrace where I think I’m alone, but Arthur Fonzarelli’s got an army of clones…”

Hope this gives you as many giggles as it did me!