I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. My chosen theme is “It Must Be”. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: free

I mentioned in a previous post that I live by myself. I like that kind of freedom. My friends know a different story, of course. They think my parents are archeologists and are on some dig in Egypt and that a friend of the family checks in on me on the daily. If they knew the truth (which can never happen), they would both think it was totally siiiiick. LOL. And then my place would become par-tay central.

The more I think about it, though, I could be free of this gig. Any time I say, I could be free. Me or the agency could cancel the deal for whatever reason and I would be just a typical teenage girl. Going to school. Living a semi-normal life.

I remember the life I had before.

I look at the life I’m living now.

And I think…I’m free of “before”, so I can freely enjoy “now.”

So I do.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. My chosen theme is “It Must Be”. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: story

Well, now. This one’s going to be easy. So, my name name is Draven Atreides, I’m 16-yrs-old. And I’m a spy. Yeah, okay, not really. I’m more of a snitch. I mean, I don’t travel to exotic places, I don’t handle or carry weapons (does a pen, a notebook and a digital camera count?), and I don’t work for a government agency. Well, one out of three isn’t bad. Let me explain.

You see, I was abandoned by my biological parents as a baby and I’ve spent all my life in the foster care system. At 16, I ended up with the Foster Couple From Hell. I discovered their dirty little secret–the bastards–so I ratted them out to the local authorities. Lucky me, when I decided to play tattletale, an agency with three letters had been investigating The FCFH for years. So, being the good citizen that I am, I decided to help them out. The agency with the three letters, that is. I cashed in my Get Out of Hell Free card. Three months later, I got a new name, a new life…and a paying gig in the Youth Informant Division. Of course, the real story are the assignments. 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.

Watch your back.

I’ve got my eye on you.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. My chosen theme is “It Must Be”. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: safe

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary describes safe as:

: free from harm or risk : unhurt
2a : secure from threat of danger, harm, or loss b : successful at getting to a base in baseball without being put out
3: affording safety or security from danger, risk, or difficulty
4 obsolete of mental or moral faculties: healthy, sound
5a : not threatening danger : harmless b : unlikely to produce controversy or contradiction
6a : not likely to take risks : cautious b : trustworthy, reliable

I was in the foster care system at birth. I was swooped up by a wonderful couple and had it pretty good on a farm until I was 7 yrs old. Then that wonderful couple was snatched away from me and I ended up in the system again. Bounced around a bit until the FCFH (Foster Couple From Hell) practically lunged towards me and took me to live with them in Manhattan.

For a few years, that life was all right until it eventually didn’t end up being all right. At that point I stopped believing in safe. At least when it comes to other people.

When the Feds came to me with the Y.I.D. deal, I haggled. I negotiated. Didn’t know you could do that with the Feds, did you? Ahem. I wouldn’t advise it doing that all the time. I mean, what you get is what you get. But originally, I didn’t want what they had to offer. But I’m only 16 and the only way they would let me live by myself is if I had a guardian. So, basically, my handler is also is my guardian.

Tykota Blackhawk is cool. His wife, Shannon, is pretty cool, too. Those two really need to be on the cover of a romance novel. Seriously. They’re that good looking. And have wanted me to live with them from the beginning.

But I can’t.

I know Ty would do anything to protect me, and I would thank him for it, but…

Most people feel that having roots, a family, whatever…that’s safe.

But safe to me is, well, me. Just me.

I know, cynical much? Very. At least, for now.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: eternity

I can tell you a lot about eternity…

~ The time it takes to gather evidence against your foster parents and turn it over to the Feds. (not really. It only took a few months)

~ The time it takes to negotiate a deal with said Feds to let you ditch the system, ditch parental unit control, and live by yourself at the “tender age” of 16. (Tender age, my ass. Whoever came up with that phrase needs to live my life for a day).

~ The time it takes to adjust to a new life, a new school…and a new job (which you can’t tell your new friends about. Or else….you’re out of the Division. They don’t kill you, if that’s what you were thinking).

~ The time it takes to learn how to pick a lock in 3 seconds flat. O. M. Gosh. Now that was hard. Although, listening to the High School Musical soundtracks gave me quite the clarity moments. I’m particularly partial to “Bet on Me”.

~ The time it takes to get my story told. Any day now, Celise. Seriously. This is getting ridiculous. I’m sure people are going to get sick of seeing my name and not knowing a damn thing about me.

Note to Draven: I’m penciling you in. We need to have a come-to-Jesus talk, girlfren’.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library, High School Musical

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: Invisible

I thought I might add a picture of me this week for two reasons:

1) In this post, someone thought I sounded “cool”. I thought you might want to see what this cool person looks like. LOL. And

2) This week’s topic is about invisibility. I have a point. Stick around, people. You might learn something. Really.

As a Y.I.D. informant, I’m required to take classes. Yes, in addition to school, I have to take more classes. To be honest, they’re fun and not something that would be taught in school. Not too long ago, I took Daring Disguises taught by Agent Gwen. Gwen isn’t even her real name, it’s the nickname I gave her (long story, you’ll find out in Book 2. I think). Like a spy, I sometimes may have to blend in and not attract attention. I have to be invisible. My disguise has to look natural and may have to come on or off in under a minute. I know! The pressure! What happens if I’m changing quickly and have a wardrobe malfunction? Gah! During the class, I had to pull my hair back, sit in front of a mirror and fill out a checklist. The goal was to identify the features that make me unique and to discover what might be too memorable to the target: from face shape to skin color.

Not to toot my own horn, but as you can see, I’m pretty memorable. Go ahead. Click on the pick to make it bigger. I have green eyes. I’m fair-skinned. I’ve got full lips, a wide, flat nose…and I wear my hair in braids, not dreads (if that’s what you were thinking). I was told by my foster parental units that my biological parents were an interracial couple. But I’m rambling now. The point is to figure out what features can be disguised and downplayed.

Ahem. I might’ve gone a little overboard. Click on the pic to take a closer look. That’s not exactly natural, and would probably make me even more memorable, but you caught the point I was hurling at you, right? I learned a lot of things from Agent Gwen during that class. With a little make-up, you can disguise yourself to look:

~ Tired (bags under the eyes) with dark shading from your pencil under your eyes.

~ Older (wrinkled around forehead and mouth) by creating and blending lines with a makeup pencil.

~ Sunburned by using pink/red blush

~ Like you have a light beard growth by using brown pencil or stipple sponge in brown cream eyeshadow.

I’ve also created my own Quick Change Kit that includes the following goodies:

~ Hat, scarf and a bandana

~ Accessories – hair bands, barrettes, jewelry and belts

~ A couple of reversible clothing items

~ A grocery bag

~ Small pebbles – slows your walk or creates a limp

~ Ace bandage – fake an injured limb

~ Cotton balls (aka “plumpers”) – you wet them and place between cheek and gum. It creates a new jawline shape and a new way of talking.

~ Heel lifts – to make myself grow an inch taller

~ Fake mustache (seriously)

~ Makeup – I normally skimp on this stuff and just do bare bones, but I’ve added a stipple sponge, brown cream shadow, blush, and foundation to my meager collection.

And that, peoples, is how Y.I.D. rolls when it comes to being invisible. I hope you learned something new today.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library, Sunday Scribblings

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. In light of this project, I’m allowing Draven Atreides, the MC from my YA series, to take the lead each week via word prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

This week’s topic: A Walk in the Park

Funny, but this gig started as a walk in the park. Well, not really. I actually met two undercover FBI agents in Central Park. My idea. Public place and all. I thought it would be safer, less conspicuous, but with plenty of witnesses and escape routes. Central Park became our meeting place on a weekly basis. They would tell me what what info they wanted regarding my foster parents and I reported back. I didn’t have anything for a while. I was convinced I never would. I was still new, just helping them out, unofficial-like. After certain…events occurred, well, their case blew wide open and it was all over but the cryin’. On their part, not mine.

So, a walk in the park. Literally?

During my time in Manhattan, Central Park was like a sanctuary to me. My walk in the park involved sitting near The Pond, making faces at the animals in the CP Zoo, skating at Wollman Rink, and making my heart jump in my throat as I swung higher on the swings in Heckscher Playground. Those were the good times. I was playing Harriet the Spy and just havin’ a grand ol’ ball. Until that one day…

And that walk in the park, figuratively?

Now that I’m officially in the Y.I.D. and have been given a license to, well, erm…inform, there are some great perks. Well, in my case, the perks are more like Perkilicious Times Eternity. I’m helping topple this big group from the bottom up (well, maybe like the lower mid-level) and, you know, that’s pretty heady stuff, yeah? But this walk in the park isn’t all zoos and skating rinks. There are little side trails that lead to poison ivy and areas with burned out lamps. Sometimes I wonder…..well, I just wonder.

Those walks in the park? They can be fantabulous. Honestly. Just watch out for the dog shit.

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library

I’m participating in the The Fiction Project. This project is sponsored by The Art House Co-op and is an opportunity to tell stories in a different way by fusing text and visual art. After traveling across the country, the Fiction Project will enter into the Brooklyn Art Library‘s narrative collection, archiving my story to share with the public. MY THEME: It Must Be…

This week’s topic: Progress

I wasn’t sure how I was going to start this process. I’m a pantser and didn’t really have anything planned. I just figured I’d let it grow organically. And it did.

In the form of word prompts and a little character channeling.

So, until I’ve used up all my pages, Draven Atreides, will be guest posting every week using the weekly word prompts from Sunday Scribblings. So, without further ado, heeeeeere’s Draven.

Hey there, hi there, ho there. How fun is this? So nice of my Creator to focus on me a little since she seems to have momentarily dropped the ball on my story. Hee. Just kidding, C. You know I got nothing but love for ya. Sooooo, progress. When I first started this gig as an informant for the FBI, I was a bit of a nube. I was doing it because my foster parents were under suspicion and I got them even more on the radar because of a picture I saw on a website for runaways. Long story, not going there.

I really had no idea what I was doing, just letting the Agents dictate what they wanted me to do. But now I have a whole team of people to look out for me. Granted, they still tell me what to do ( I am only 16, after all), but they just give me my assignment, stand back, and let me do my thang. With help from all the gadgets, of course. And the special classes I have to take. Those are pretty fun. Pretty soon, I’ll be an expert at this and maybe, just maybe, I’ll make a career out of this. Maybe

Technorati Tags: The Fiction Project, Brooklyn Art Library, Sunday Scribblings

After reading Shel Silverstein’s autobiography for my ACL class, I would life swap with him. But only certain parts:

~ Endless travel

~Homes in different places

~ Camping out in the conference room of my publisher to take over the production of my book (if I was going the traditional route, that is) and have people be on Celise Patrol (glorified gofers that would bring me whatever I needed)

~ Worldwide adoration of YA fans

~ To have ideas come so ridiculously often that if I don’t have any paper around, I have to use what I got–whether it be my arms are the tablecloth at the restaurant where I’m eating.

~ To leave a million dollar legacy that includes: continuing royalties, books translated in 20 different languages and sold well over 20 million copies.

~ To know that I lived my life to the fullest, doing what I love most, and not have any regrets whatsoever.

Technorati Tags: Sunday Scribblings, Shel Silverstein

This is an excerpt from DANCE JAM PRODUCTIONS, avail now.

***

“If we’re still going to continue to be partners in this contest, I’m going to have to explain something to you. You have no right to judge my situation when you don’t know all the facts and you sure as hell don’t know anything about Tykota.” She pointed an accusing index finger at him.

Jarek nodded, instantly contrite. He’d overstepped his bounds. He wouldn’t be surprised if she kicked him out, never to talk to him again. He wished he could take the words back, knowing he had broken the already fragile bond between them. He would have to bust his butt to get back to where they had been before he’d opened his big mouth.

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about him and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I apologize,” he said sincerely.

Mattie searched his face for a long moment. “Apology accepted,” she said.

But he knew nothing would be the same. At least, not for a while. She was still wary, probably wondering why she had told him anything in the first place.

“So help me understand,” he pleaded, hands out in supplication.

Mattie glanced at her watch, gave Judah a warning command, stood up, and started moving to the doorway.

“I think we’ve said enough already,” she murmured softly.

Apparently that was his cue to leave, so he got up to follow her. His gaze ran over her, taking in the braid that no longer fell to her waist, but now rested between her shoulder blades.

“Mattie.”

She paused and turned to him. Suddenly she felt so old. Old and tired.

“I don’t want to argue anymore, Jarek. And I don’t want you to be mad at me, either. It’s going to be hard enough to concentrate on this contest after spilling my guts to you, and we can’t afford any mess-ups on Friday. So how ‘bout a truce?” she suggested, holding out her hand.

Technorati Tags: Sunday Scribblings, DANCE JAM PRODUCTIONS

To be honest, I’ve never had a mantra.

However, right now it’s:

One week at a time and remember to breathe.

I went back to school. After 17-18 yrs of not being in school. I started in the Fall of 2009 and it was a HUMONGO adjustment for me. I was only taking two classes at the time and about a month into it, I was feeling the pressure. I had a little breakdown, was emailing my core faculty (aka advisor) on a weekly basis…it was crazy.

I couldn’t figure out why it was so hard. After I graduated from high school, I did the community college thing for 2 yrs, then the 4-year university thing (ASU) for about a year. Possibly less. I don’t remember it being that hard before. And then my hubby put it into perspective for me:

“You weren’t working full time back then.”

Ah. The light bulb finally clicked on.

I’m working full time now. Some of my courses are online, others will be face to face/phone call convos with my mentors. During the first semester, I made the mistake of looking ahead at the syllabi (both of my courses were online). And got immediately overwhelmed.

I had to have pep talks with my core faculty, with my husband, with another co-worker also in school before this one phrase started to sink in.

“Just take it one week at a time. Don’t look at the weeks in advance, just what’s due the following week.”

I think it’s starting to work. I’ll be starting my 3rd semester in two days. This time, I’ll be taking 3 classes (and will continue to do so if I want to graduate in Dec 2011). I’m feeling both excited and anxious. I’m hoping I’ll be able to handle 3 classes and working full time.

I just have to remember my mantra.

Technorati Tags: Sunday Scribblings