Archive for the 'Book Stuff' Category

August 2, 2010 | "Whoa whoa I gotta go...back to schoooool...again",3rd Semester,A Royale Pain,Adv Children's Lit,Book One,Book Stuff,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Prescott College,Reading is FUNdamental,Summer 2010,Your Two Cents

As part of my Creative Project in my ACL course, I’m posting the first five chapters of my work-in-progress A Royale Pain: Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant (Book One) during the month of August. Your opinion/critique is requested. Are you new to the blog? Ready why I’m doing this here.

Deets:
* New chapter posted every Monday
* Post your comment/critique/advice/suggestions in the Comment Section
* Comment section closes on Sunday
* ACL Project ends Aug 30th

CHAPTER ONE

FBI Headquarters
Phoenix, AZ Branch
One Week Later

Tykota Black Hawk and I are waiting in a conference room at the Phoenix branch of the FBI when the door opens and Tyson Beckford and Heidi Klum walk in. Okay, not for real, but pretty damn close.

My jaw drops.

Tykota immediately stands up.

“Hello. I’m Special Agent Jamal Karr and this is my partner Special Agent Cassandra Powers. We head up the Phoenix Youth Informant Division. And you must be Draven Atreides,” he says, holding out his hand.

“Um. Yeah,” I mumble, jerking to my feet and shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Draven,” Agent Powers firmly shakes my hand before turning to Tykota.

“Tykota Black Hawk of the Black Hawk Protection Agency. We’ve heard very good things about your company,” she says.

Ty shakes her hand. “Thank you. We do our best,” he says.

We all sit down and one end of the large table and I really can’t help but blatantly stare at these supermodels disguised as FBI agents. Let me just say that I thought the whole “dark suit” thing was just a Hollywood/T.V. show thing. Um, yeah, no. Definitely not just a Hollywood/T.V. show thing. The dark suits are legit. I had no idea until they strutted through door, rockin’ designer suits like they were on a freakin’ runway.

I. Kid. You. Not.

I’m waiting for them to do the pause-pose-pose-walk routine.

Seriously.

Their physical prettiness just kind of, you know, slaps you upside the head. He’s smooth dark chocolate and she’s ice-cold vanilla, you just have to stare at them with your mouth hanging open for a few seconds. I’m sure they’re used to it by now, so I’m hoping they give me a few minutes to get myself under control here.

From this day henceforth, you will be referred to as Agent KAPOW, I think with a smile. And yes, I’ll have to say it just like that. In all caps.

“Let’s get down to brass tacks, here.” Agent KAPOW opens leather notebooks and pulls out a stack of folders. Agent Powers leans her forearms on the table and looks at me.

“First of all, Draven, we’d like to thank you for being our first recruit here. The Youth Informant Division is a new concept for the FBI in general, but we’ve come to realize that we need sometimes need assistance in the field. The public is very wary of what we do and now know that they’re willing to help if we provide the opportunity to do so,” she begins to explain.

Agent Karr continues. “There are situations in which we are unable to use undercover agents, but teens of a certain age might work better. Hence the creation of the Youth Informant Division. To say that your situation is unique would be an understatement. There’s a recruitment process currently in place for the Y.I.D., but that’s being waived for you. We ask that you please keep how you got here, and the terms of your contract, a secret from future recruits. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, hands clasped tightly under the table. Gosh, they’re so deadly serious.

“Good.” He looks to his partner.

“We’ve reviewed the terms of your contract with the FBI and just want to clarify some points. You will be supported financially by the FBI until one year after you graduate from college. This will be null and void if you decide not to go to college and work full time or dropout while you’re attending. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“In addition to your school courses, you will be required to take six informant skill-enhancing classes. You will have the chance to choose after you’ve been assigned to a case. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You will be required to undergo a psychological evaluation at the completion of every assignment. If you are declared unfit, you will be removed from the Division. Do you understand?”

My eyes widen and I look at Ty as my heart lodges in my throat. By remove, do they mean—?

“Not killed. We’re not murderers, Draven,” Agent Karr chides.

I release a sound between a snort and a scoff. “No, no. I know you don’t kill kids. I just, you know, wanted to be sure that we’re,” I flap my hands, “you know, on the same non-kill page.”

“It means you will no longer be part of the Division,” he says.

I nod vigorously. “Of course. Yeah. I get it. Can’t handle the fire, you’re booted out of the kitchen.”

She raises a finger, lips twitching. “Most of all, it’s highly important that no one in your regular life discovers what you do. The FBI, Mr. Black Hawk, his wife, and his men are the only people who should know. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Say ma’am one more time and it’s going to get ugly. It’s Cassie or Agent Powers,” she shoots back.

I clamp my lips together and stare at her. She smiles and it reaches her eyes. I relax a little and give her a small smile in return.

“Okay. Agent Powers.” Calling her by her first name seems too informal.

“You will be given a monthly living expense of six hundred dollars. Make it work as that’s all you’re given. If you can get a part time job at your age, feel free to do so. Just let us know where that is,” Agent Karr instructs.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be sixteen in August,” I say.

He glances down at an open file then back at me. “So you will. And for the record, it’s Jamal or Agent Karr. Sir makes me sound like my father. We’ll sign you up for driving school to help you get your license. You can choose the kind of car you want, but we make the final decision. We’ll take care of the insurance and the maintenance.”

“No hundred thousand dollar cars and no sports cars,” Agent Powers warns.

“No problem.” And it won’t be. I’ve only wanted one car for as long as I can remember: a purple vintage Volkswagen Bug. Those might be hard to come by nowadays, at least one in good condition, but a purple new or used Bug will do just fine.

Agent Powers studies me for a long moment and I have to fight not to fidget. “You’re a very pretty young lady, Draven. Were you born with green eyes?”

I’m taken aback by the unexpected personal question. I blink and glance at Ty, wondering what I should do. He nods.

“Um. No. I was told they were blue and changed as I got older,” I respond.

“Can I ask how you came up with the name Draven Atreides? It’s unusual. Pretty, but unusual.”

“One of my friends back in New York was a big fan of this movie called The Crow. He found it in his older brother’s movie collection and watched it all the time. It became his favorite.” I smile at the memory. “The main character’s name was Eric Draven and he was a musician. My friend was a musician, too, and he was pretty good. He needed a name for his band and I suggested Draven’s Crow,” I laugh. “I didn’t think he’d like it, but he loved it. His family moved away not too long after the band naming thing.” I shrug. “I admit I had a little crush on him. And he was a nice memory during my time there. I wanted to take that with me, I guess. Atreides was the last name of my fifth grade teacher. She read aloud to us every day. I loved her for that. She had the best voice.”

“You could have kept your name.”

“I didn’t want to be Olivia anymore.”

“I meant India. You could’ve kept the name India Asher.”

I swallow around a tight throat and look down at my lap. “Well, I was thinking new life, new place, why not a new name? A fresh start. Besides, I kept part of it.” I had to. I didn’t want to completely cut the connection, so I made India my middle name.

“You were adopted at birth.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

“Do you know who your biological parents are?”

“No.”

“Do you want to know?”

“No,” I shoot back without hesitation. And then another thought comes to mind. “Not even if you have the ability to locate them.”

Agent KAPOW nods in unison.

“Fair enough,” Agent Karr says. “But should you ever want to know—“

“I won’t,” I interrupt, staring him down. “My parents were John and Abigail Asher. They’re dead now. End of story.”

“All right,” Agent Powers says quietly. “You’ve been here a week and we’ve been informed you found a place to live?”

“Yes.” Ty speaks up and I’m grateful for the subject change.

I settle back in my chair and feel the tightness ease between my shoulder blades. I untwine my fingers and place my arms on the chair rests. It’s not an interrogation, Draven, just a debriefing.

“The Portland Square apartments off of Portland and Central Avenue,” Ty’s low, smooth baritone brings me out of my thoughts. “All of my guys live on the fourth floor and I was able to rent a studio loft for Draven on the same floor. She’ll have extra protection and they will more than likely check on her.”

Everyone at the table is scribbling something and I feel guilty for not doing the same. No one told me I had to take notes.

“And are you getting settled all right? Any problems?” she asks.

“No. The apartment’s really cool, Shannon’s really nice, and Ty’s men are great. At least, the ones I’ve met.”

“Good. We’ll be taking care of the rent, of course. That’s part of the financial support. And what explanation do you have for living alone, Draven?” she asks.

“My parents, John and Abby Atreides, are archeologists on an extended dig in Egypt.”

“That’s a great cover, but we suggest using names that—“

“That are familiar to me,” I interrupt smoothly. “I’ll be less likely to mess up if I use names I know.”

Agent KAPOW nod and make notes.

“You’ve been doing some reading.”

More like getting some coaching, I grin smugly at Ty.

“Very clever.”

Yes, well, I’m a clever girl. At least, that’s what Isabelle Chevalier used to tell me.

They close one folder and open another, then push two more across the table towards me and Ty.

“We’re going to give you a little more time to adjust before starting you on your first assignment, but we’re going to tell you about it anyway so you’ll be prepared. Did Special Agents Donohue and Cortese tell you about Craycroft School of the Arts?” Agent Powers inquires.

“They told me it was a charter school and that the people you’re looking for have some connections to that school.”

“It sounds like they did their jobs. Saves us the trouble,” Agent Karr says.

“That doesn’t seem odd to you? That the criminals you want are connected to people at this school?” Ty asks.

“Yes, we do find it odd, but we’ve found nothing out of the ordinary about the school itself. It’s a charter school that gets their funding from the public: individual donors, foundations, sponsors, grants. All charter schools operate like this, so it’s not unusual. Right now, we’re just chalking it up to coincidence,” Agent Powers says. “We’re trying to dismantle a major crime ring called The Inner Circle. Their reach is far and wide and involves everything from drug trafficking to major heists. We were getting close, and then it all fell apart when we lost some undercover agents.”

“Lost as in…?” Ty asked with a raised eyebrow.

Agent Powers clears her throat and shifts in her chair. “Two were killed and one switched sides.”

“Ouch,” I murmur with a wince. That sting must have left a nice little mark.

“To say the least. We’ve backed off and decided to approach from a different angle,” Agent Karr picks up the story.

“And by a different angle, you mean from the bottom? The middle?” Ty probes.

“We’re starting at the bottom. Cut off the legs and there’s nothing left to hold the organization together. These people we want aren’t important enough to be on the wanted listed; they’ve just done enough to show up on our grid, made them persons of interest and someone we should keep an eye on. Your foster parents, Derek and Isabelle Chevalier, are a perfect example of this. As well as the guy we’re looking for now.

In your folder, you’re going to find some intel about your target, Jean-Pierre Du’Lac. He’s a French chemist, with dual citizenship in both France and America thanks to his French mother and American father, both dead. He makes the drugs and then finds ways to ship it. Thanks to his product, there’ve been some casualties in France, Italy, Sweden and Germany,” Agent Karr explains.

I open the folder and right on top is a picture of said mad chemist. The guy looks like he couldn’t harm a flea. He seems so average with the brown hair and brown eyes magnified by thick lenses. But looks can be deceiving as was evident by my foster parents.

“He goes by quite a few aliases, as you can see, and has recently targeted an exclusive spa in Paradise Valley: The Royale Treatment Day Spa. They’re remodeling and plan to re-open the spa soon, so we’re thinking he got in as a sales consultant for a bogus French skin care company. The spa and the attached hotel are owned by Jackson and Emily Royale, a wealthy family who’s made themselves rich with lucrative real estate ventures. The spa is run by Diana Royale. And even though they’re changing out their staff for the remodel, we’ve decided not to take the chance of putting in an undercover agent. We’re going to go the Y.I.D. route and see what you can find out. Your assignment is to get close to Diana’s niece, Taffy, who attends Craycroft.”

I flip the picture of Jean-Pierre over to find a class picture of Taffy Royale and have to refrain from rolling my eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me. Long blond hair, blue eyes, bright smile, looking as if the world owes her instead of the other way around, I used to encounter girls like her on a regular basis working in the baby boutique Derek and Isabella owned. I didn’t get along with the spoiled type then and I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed. But I’m not about to admit it to Agent KAPOW. Maybe this time will be different. I did some reading on this school and it’s not your typical public school.

“All right,” I say, trying to sound confident.

“We know that this atmosphere will be an adjustment for you, Draven. Making the transition from homeschool to a public school can’t be easy, but we’d like to stress that there’s no time constraints on this assignment. Like any undercover agent, we understand that it takes a while to befriend and build trust. We just want to know what you see and hear and hope that it will lead to an arrest,” Agent Powers states. “The only time you’ll see us is at your case debriefings. You’ll report directly to Mr. Black Hawk. Any additional intel we receive about the target will be provided by him.

School starts August ninth. You’ve already been registered and Mr. Black Hawk should be receiving confirmation any time now. You’ll also receive an Orientation Packet and a schedule of classes. You’ll be required to attend Orientation and meet with the Director of Admissions to determine your schedule. We advise you to take advantage of the group tours that are open to the public and get to know your way around. You’ll also receive an email within twenty-four to forty-eight hours indicating dates and times of the available informant classes. Do you have any questions for us?”

I blink and blankly look down at the open folder in front of me. Do I have questions? I probably should but with all the info swirling around in my head, they might’ve gotten pushed out of the way.

“Draven?” Ty urges.

“Uh, no. No questions. Not right now,” I say.

Agent Powers smiles and its surprisingly sympathetic. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. But you have a couple of months to process it all. Mr. Black Hawk is always available to you as are we. You can call me or Agent Karr at any time.”

“Thanks.”

“Mr. Black Hawk, are there any questions we can answer for you?” Agent Karr asks.

“No, not at this time,” he says.

We all stand up and another round of handshakes ensues.

“Welcome to the team, Draven. We’re glad to have you.”
———-
COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE NOW CLOSED

Did you read the Prologue? If not, go HERE

August 1, 2010 | 3rd Semester,A Royale Pain,Adv Children's Lit,Book One,Book Stuff,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Prescott College,School Daze,Summer 2010,Your Two Cents

“The courts have recognized that the government’s use of informants is lawful and often essential to the effectiveness of properly authorized law enforcement investigations. However, use of informants to assist in the investigation of criminal activity may involve an element of deception, intrusion into the privacy of individuals, or cooperation with persons whose reliability and motivation may be open to question. Although it is legally permissible for the FBI to use informants in its investigations, special care is taken to carefully evaluate and closely supervise their use so the rights of individuals under investigation are not infringed. The FBI can only use informants consistent with specific guidelines issued by the Attorney General that control the use of informants.”
— FBI website

The Federal Bureau of Investigations does not endorse and is not officially connected to this book in any way. All mistakes and incidents are of the author’s own making.

INTRODUCTION

My biological parents abandoned me when I was a baby. I’ve spent years in the foster care system. I’m sixteen now and have been recruited by the FBI as an informant. I am not a genetically enhanced super-soldier or a government-trained agent. But you’re going down. I’m going to expose you for who and what you are—and you will never even see me coming.

My name is Draven Atreides.

Watch your back.

I’ve got my eye on you.

———————————————————

PROLOGUE

New York City
Central Park
May

I’m meeting two undercover FBI agents in Central Park today.

Not every teenager can say that. Then again, not every teenager can say they worked with the Feds to put their foster parents behind bars. That’s one for the history books, I’m sure. I chose the meeting place. I needed to be outside. After being exiled to CPS temporary housing for the past two weeks, I needed to feel free. The sun may be warming my skin but it doesn’t reach the bone deep numbness I’ve felt for months.

I’m talking the kind of numbness that comes from being betrayed; by the system, by the people who claim to love you. I have no regrets; I had discovered Isabella and Derek Chevalier’s dirty little secret. I could not have lived with myself if I hadn’t done something to stop it.

Yeah, I stopped it all right. I stopped something so big I can barely wrap my mind around it. Barely believe the FCFH (aka Foster Couple From Hell) had been a small cog in a big wheel of illegal activity. But not anymore. I’d stopped them dead in their tracks. I’d held up my end of the deal. Now I’m about to find out if the Feds will do the same.

Glancing to the right, my heart rate kicks up a notch when I see two familiar people. Agents Donohue and Cortese (a.k.a. Agent DC) are dressed in plain clothes and holding hands like a couple. I sit up straighter when my gaze moves to the other person with them. He’s tall, even taller than Agent Donohue, with black hair cut military short. As they get closer, I can see that he’s not only tall, but big: shoulders wide enough to block out the sun, thighs the size of tree trunks. He removes his sunglasses and stabs me with eyes as black as coal. I scramble to my feet and take an automatic step back. Who is this man and why is he with Agent DC?

I nervously tug the brim of my floppy sun hat down and adjust my oversized glasses. Wiping my damp hands on my butt, I suddenly wish I had worn something other than shorts, a T-shirt, and flip flops. Like maybe a suit of armor.

“India Chevalier, this is Tykota Black Hawk,” Agent Donohue says.

“It is nice to meet you, India,” he says in a low tone, holding out his hand.

I swallow hard, curl my hands around my thighs and take yet another step backward. I look around, uneasy, wondering if anyone would come to my aid if I screamed for help.

“He’s not going to hurt you, India. I promise,” Agent Cortese assures me, holding her hands out. “We’re just here to talk about the deal. It’s all right. C’mon. Sit down.”

I move to the far side of the blanket and we all slowly sit down. They take a moment to get comfortable and glance around the area. The tree we’re under provides shade so dark that Agent DC take off their sunglasses. As much as I want to keep mine on I don’t want to appear rude, so I remove mine as well. I focus on the agents, but out of the corner of my eye I’m keeping tabs on Mr. Stone Face.

“So, about the deal,” I say.

“We’d like to make a counteroffer,” Agent Donohue says.

“I don’t want a counteroffer. I want the original offer.”

“And that offer still stands,” Agent C jumps in, “But we’re hoping you’ll take this counteroffer.”

Agent D pulls out a manila envelope and tosses it over to me. “The FBI have set up Youth Informant Divisions in Los Angeles, Chicago, and right here in New York City. We’re looking to open up a new division in Phoenix and we’d like you to be the first recruit.”

I glance at the envelope, then back at him. “Youth Informant Division? What the hell is that?”

“A couple of years ago, we caught an online predator. We needed some help in the chat rooms and we were able to do so with assistance from someone just like you, India. A teenager,” Agent D begins. Agent C takes up the story. “We work a lot of cases, India. We can’t work some of the smaller ones because we can’t get close enough.”

Now I begin to understand. “You can’t get close enough because all your people look like cops. Which is true.” I wave my hand. “I mean, look at you two. Even dressed down and trying to look like a couple, you still look like cops. You’re too buttoned up. And the hair? It screams law enforcement. And don’t even get me started on your posture. Only motorcycle cops and yoga instructors sit and walk like they have a stick up their ass.”

Mr. Stone Face coughs, making me aware of his presence. He glances away, then back, and I see his lips curl up in a quick grin. That expression of emotion softens his face and I relax a little.

“That’s a really good observation and why you would make a good informant. It’s also why Y.I.D. was created. We have a need and teens like you can fill that need,” Agent D is saying now.

I reach for the envelope, open it and pull out a small stack of stapled papers. “What’s the catch?”

“Financial support for the next seven years. That covers everything you’ll need until you graduate from high school, four years of college and one year following college graduation. Tykota here owns The Black Hawk Protection Agency in Phoenix and he’ll be your legal guardian—”

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” I interrupt, raising my hand. “I do not do the parental thing anymore. It’s an effing scam. I’m not going to be stupid enough to buy into it again.”

“India, you’ll get a new life and a new name. It’ll be just like the Witness Protection Program, but you’re still a minor. You have no money, no savings, no parents, and no home. You’re going to need a legal guardian and Tykota is your best bet,” Agent C says.

“I don’t even know this guy. How can he be my legal guardian?”

“I’m married and we have a daughter, who’s also married,” he says in a calm tone.

“How delightful for you. The last couple that took me in were married, too, and look how that turned out. I’d rather live by myself, thankyouverymuch.”

“Fine,” Agent C says with a nod.

I open my mouth, ready to argue some more, but snap it shut at her quick response. “Fine? I can have my own place?”

“If Tykota being your legal guardian is contingent on you living by yourself, then that’s fine. Notate it on page four, number six, paragraph two.”

“Fabtastic,” I murmur, turning to the page as instructed. I read over the paragraph stating living arrangements, cross it out and make notes in the margin.

“What else?” Agent D asks.

“What else what?”

“What else do you want?”

“A car and a laptop of my choice.”

“Do you know how to drive?”

“No.”

“Do you have a learner’s permit?”

“No.”

“Fine. Add it in somewhere. The laptop is part of your financial support. What else?”

“I don’t want to have to pay taxes for the rest of my life,” I blurt out, thinking of the movie Armaggedon.

Agent D bursts out laughing, obviously recognizing the reference. “You’ll be assisting the FBI, India, not saving the world. Nice try, though. What else?”

I bite my lip. There has to be something else. There should be something else, but I can’t think of anything. I mean, I’ll be getting financial support until a year after college graduation. What more can I possibly ask for? A regular life with a normal childhood would’ve been nice, but normal and regular? It’s overrated.

“India? Is there anything else?’ Tykota asks quietly.

I sigh and look down at the papers in my hand. “No. Nothing else.”

“All right. Case information will be conveyed to you and Tykota on an as-needed basis. You will be required to have a psych eval at the close of every case and your informant file will be reviewed annually. You’ll also be required to take classes,” Agent D says.

I raise my eyebrows. “Isn’t going to high school enough?”

All three adults chuckle. “These classes will help you hone your skills as an informant,” Agent C replies.

“What, like, weapons training or something?”

“No, not quite that high level. You’ll need to know how to defend yourself, though, so we will—”

“I will teach her,” Tykota interjects.

“Right. I forgot about that academy you run. The school we’ll be placing you in is a charter, Craycroft School of the Arts. We’ve found that the subjects you’ll be looking for have a connection to someone at that school.”

“Huh. So it’s kinda like Sunnydale but without all the demons and the Hellmouth. Fabtastic,” I say.

Blank stares.

“Y’know, Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Used to be a really popular TV show? Sarah Michelle Gellar as a stake-happy vampire slayer?”

More blank stares.

I wave a hand in the air. “Right. No more references to teenybopper shows. Moving on ….”

“You’ll report to Tykota on a daily basis and to the local FBI office for your classes.” Agent D pauses to pull out index cards from his back pocket. He holds them up. “Instructions I have to read you verbatim. If you like, you can flip to the second to the last page of the contract and follow along.”

I do so, even though it looks like Greek to me. When he’s done, I blink, wondering if I look as dazed as I feel. “Is there a Cliff Notes version?”
Agent D throws me a scowl and I wince. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“Good. We’ll have the amendments added and have you sign it before you leave tomorrow.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Tomorrow? So soon?”

“It’s best that way, India. You need to get out of New York City. And the sooner, the better,” Agent C says, glancing around.

“Right. Of course.”

“So. Are you ready to begin your new life, India?” Tykota asks.

“More than ready. And the name’s Draven. Draven Atreides.”

——————————–
And so the story begins. Come back tomorrow for Chapter One

COMMENTS FOR THIS POST HAVE BEEN CLOSED.

May 5, 2010 | Book Stuff,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Life in General,Road Trip Wednesday

Road Trip Wednesday is a “Blog Carnival”, where YA Highway‘s contributors post a weekly writing or reading-related question and answer it in on our own blogs. You can hop from destination to destination and get everybody’s unique take on the topic.

You’re more than welcome to participate! Just answer the question on your own blog, and leave a link to it in their comments.

Topic #28: What photos inspire your books?

I can honestly say that the only time I use photos for my books is when I’m trying to describe something. I didn’t do this with my first two books, but found the need to do so with the DA series.

This apartment complex inspired Draven’s living quarters. I went there, photographed the outside, and even toured an empty apartment, writing down everything I saw. Everything I saw ended up in the book.

The Portland Square apartment complex on Portland Avenue had been the first complex Ty had shown me my second day here, and I’d fallen in love with the open floorplan at first sight….

….On the street level is the parking garage, a City of Phoenix police sub-station, a small gym, a reasonably priced restaurant, and a sandwich place. A dog park with wrought iron benches sits in the middle of the street, like a median, and spans the whole length of the street, from Central Ave to 3rd Ave…….

…..As I take the elevator to the 4th floor in building C, I can understand why we’ve never run into each other. The complex has 410 units, 4 levels in each, and the three buildings take up three blocks….

Formally known as The Willow House, this coffee/deli shop was the inspiration behind Draven’s favorite hangout, CoolBeans Cafe. It’s under a new name, new management and totally looks different now. But again, I went there, ate, took pictures of each room, and talked to a couple of the employees (who worked there at the time) to get the story about the place.

Located in a cute historic house, CoolBeans Café is a coffee/deli place and a popular hang out for the students at Craycroft. Rader is already waiting in line. After paying for snacks, we walk around the converted house, past the kitchen where Vanessa hands out food, and check out the porch. Then I take him back to one of three non-smoking rooms.

“Do all the rooms have a theme?” he asks as we sit down.

I grin, knowing he’s thinking that because of the room where I like to sit. I refer to it as the Mother Nature Room due to the paintings about saving the environment and Mother Earth. The books on the small bookshelf are about natural healing, saving the environment, and nature.

“They have poetry slams on Thursday nights and open mike nights out on the porch on Mondays. I’ve yet to go to one, but I’d like to sometime,” I say, removing the lid from my strawberry yogurt and stirring it with a spoon.

“Definitely sounds like an experience. The closets are so small, but it’s neat how they made them into display cases for all that stuff.”

“Yeah, I never would’ve thought of doing something like that.”

He points at the walls. “Are the paintings from local artists?”

“Yep. So’s the merchandise. The books are from estate sales.”

“Nice. So, you come here a lot?”

“Everyday, actually. In the morning for breakfast and sometimes for lunch.”

He nods. “So this place used to be a house?”

“Uh-huh. It’s been a coffee shop for about eleven years. The ladies that run this place, Jules and Van, told me it used to be a real estate office, a pet shop, a knickknack store, and a karate studio.”

Do I sound like a travel brochure or what? Gawd, just shut up and eat your damn yogurt.

The school that Draven goes to, Craycroft School of the Arts, was inspired by the high school my niece graduated from: Metropolitan Arts Institute.

When I first started writing Book One, I took the day off and “shadowed” her. Very fun and very cool (everyone thought I was a new student. Shock abounded when her classmates found out I was her aunt…and a lot older than I what I appeared to be. LOL). The school is in a former office building. There’s no cafeteria–only a break room type of room with two vending machines and a refrigerator–no athletic teams and the former offices are now classrooms. The whole time I was there, I was wishing I had gone to a high school like that.

I’ve never used pictures for my characters. My niece (the girl in the pic) is the inspiration behind the DA series and the character of Draven. Draven’s friends, as well as all the characters from my first two books, are based on everyday people. People I’ve met, maybe people I’ve worked with, or people I saw from just people-watching. When it comes to creating characters, I’ve never been the type to search for pics or tear pics from magazines. It’s always been just people I see and writing down what I see.

So, what about you? Do you use pictures to inspire your stories? Do tell.

Technorati Tags: Road Trip Wednesday, YA Highway, The Willow House, Metropolitan Arts Institute

April 30, 2010 | "Whoa whoa I gotta go...back to schoooool...again",2nd Semester,3rd Semester,A Whole Latte Trouble,Adv Children's Lit,Book Stuff,Book Two,Creative Writing II,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Financial Mgmt,Life in General,Mentors,Nonprofit Explorations,Prescott College,School Daze,Spring 2010,Summer 2010,The 4-1-1 on Me

Today officially ends the Spring semester.

I made it through another semester without having a little breakdown.

This is good.

Kristi Edwards, North-Central Region advancement officer for the Arizona Community Foundation, and the Director of the Yavapai County Community Foundation, was my mentor for my Nonprofit Explorations course. The only mentored course I had this semester. Being a newbie in the NP world, she gave me a great overview of the NP sector in general, so now I have a better foundation–no pun intended–for the other courses in my degree plan. She was a wonderful mentor and I look forward to working with her again in the Fall for my Fundraising course.

I turned in my mentor evals and now I’m waiting for them to be signed. I get a whole month off before the Summer session starts. And, unlike my first two semesters, it’s going to be balls-to-the-wall 3 classes up until graduation in Dec next year.

No more whining about feeling overwhelmed.

I’m just going to have to suck it up and remember to breathe.

This summer, I’ll be taking:

~ Creative Writing II: Revising Your Novel mentored by the wonderful Georgia McBride, founder of YALITCHAT. I’m so looking forward to this class because I’ll be working on revising the first 100 pages of DA Book 2. A novel that I finished a while back, and started to edit, and then…stopped. So, it’ll be nice to revisit that story.

~ Advanced Children’s Lit: an online Moodle course through Prescott College

~ Sustainable Financial Mgmt mentored by Chantal Sheehan, COO of local nonprofit New Global Citizens. I met with her this evening and got a really good vibe from her. I think it’s another good mentor/mentee match. This organization is doing wonderful things with youth, so I’m very much looking forward to gleaning all I can from her.

Can’t wait to get started.

Technorati Tags: Kristi Edwards, Arizona Community Foundation, Yavapai County Community Foundation, Georgia McBride, YALITCHAT, Chantal Sheehan, New Global Citizens

February 13, 2010 | "Whoa whoa I gotta go...back to schoooool...again",2nd Semester,Book Stuff,Dance Jam Productions,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Life in General,Nonprofit Explorations,Prescott College,Random Thoughts,School Daze,Secrets and Kisses,Spring 2010,The 4-1-1 on Me

If it seems like I’ve been MIA from the blogosphere and only posting a couple of times a week, it’s because I’ve been up to my hairline in school stuff. I realize it’s been a while since I’ve done a Weekend Wrap-Up. For a while it’s because there wasn’t much going on on the weekends. I should get back to that, seeing as how this weekend should be blog-worthy. Although, New Years was blog-worthy, too, and I didn’t blog about that, either. Go figure. So, let me catch you up on what’s been going on.

I was taking three classes, but then dropped the Modern Fiction course at Rio Salado. I guess I wasn’t into is as I thought I’d be. I figure I’ll take up a Creative Writing course at a later date. I’ve also been working on a community project for one of my other courses (which I’ll officially announce on Monday) and that’s overshadowed just about everything. That assignment involved a powwow with my BF and grew into something worth “squeeing” about.

I knocked out one of my New Years Resolutions last month by joining a gym: 24 Hour Fitness. I’m currently taking 2 dance fitness classes a week and let me tell you: that first class was. A. Killer. The 24Dance is on Monday nights at 530, so I basically go there straight from work. It’s all different types of dance—salsa, jive, hip-hop, bellydancing, etc. Seeing as how it was my first time, I didn’t stretch out. And paid for it two days later. By the time the Zumba class rolled around on Thursday evening, I was no longer sore. Of course, that comforting thought ended after an hr in that class. I could barely walk the next few days. Everything hurt and my body was saying things like “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Stop. Moving.” But I was sleeping good. Sleeping like the dead. And I had more energy. Now, a month later, I think my body’s gotten used to the high-intensity-heart-pumping classes and I’m no longer sore. Ar least, not as much as I used to be. I think I may be even losing some weight.

In the midst of all this, I tried to join a writing accountability group. “Tried” being the key word because I only did it for 2 weeks. This group was going to help me balance my writing life with my real life. We posted daily goals each week, but by the second week, I was already starting to see a pattern: 1) I would forget was I was supposed to be doing each day and 2) When I was supposed to be concentrating on writing DA3, I would think about something I had to do for school. During this 2 week period, I was feeling a little depressed and was carrying around this…raging anger. I was holding all this in and it was affecting my interactions with my manager at work.

The group itself wasn’t making me feel this, by no means. Part of it, I’m sure, was because of Auntie Flow’s Monthly Visit. The main thing was that I had inserted something new into my life and it wasn’t working. Once again, I was getting overwhelmed. My writing felt forced. I needed to take stock. Even though I was excited and hopeful about being a part of this group, it was just a case of wrong place, wrong time.

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Technorati Tags: 24 Hour Fitness