Jay and Robin are possibly the two funniest people I know (other than myself). I often can’t fall asleep at night, because I lie awake laughing to myself about some silly thing one of us said or did during the day. Like the other night… when Jay did this thing… and we were like, “Oh no you di’int!" Wait. Tangent. That’s not a story for mixed company!
(And now, back to my blog) So…I find it rather interesting that all three of our breakout soon-to-be-bestseller YA novels we’re finishing happen to be about seriously un-funny topics.
That’s right…Jay’s involves a suicidal 16-year-old girl. Robin’s is peppered with AA meetings. And my novel? Well, mine is about bad ass L.A. gang kids. Didn’t know I was that “street” did ya? Well I am, yo. So stop trippin’!
How did this happen? When we first met 3 1/2 years ago, we were all like, “I want to write silly, funny, boy books!” And now we’re all like, “Everyone dies in the end, dude. It’s a total bloodbath.”
My explanation is this: Even the best funny teen books have an underlying seriousness. Sid Fleischman Humor Award winning books Millicent Min-Girl Genius, Al Capone Does My Shirts, and Captain Underpants, are all examples. Did Captain Underpants win the Sid Fleischman Award? Well, it should have.
The three of us seem to have a knack for writing serious books with an underlying funniness. I mean, there are several parts in all three of our novels where I laugh out loud. Only Robin could make the voice of a depressed, sarcastic, alcoholic’s daughter LOL hilarious. And only Jay could weave strangely witty moments into a dark book about suicide.
And me? My novel started as a hilariously lighthearted book about gang kids at a summer camp, and when I finished it had turned into…well, a total bloodbath. So, even though the three of us are pretty damn funny (to US), we really do have serious sides. Who knew?
--Eve
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
It’s My Party—Robin
So, tomorrow is my birthday. Instead of my usual gorging on fatty foods and falling asleep after half a beer, I’ve decided to mentally create my own party—what I would consider to be the “perfect” birthday. After all, you only turn 29, like, six or seven times, right!?
I will wake up in the morning to breakfast in bed presented to me by the entire staff at Scholastic. “Wake up, sleepy head,” they’ll say. “You need energy to sign all those book contracts!”
When I walk into the kitchen, Carolyn Mackler will be trimming fresh flowers from the garden and saying, “Oh-ma-god, Robin, you look so totally good for 29!”
As I head off to work, a limo will pull up and Richard Peck will be driving. He’ll tell me a story about how my office is such a long way from Chicago, and he’ll talk to me the whole way there in such a soothing and genius way, that it reminds me that I need to read all of his books again. Then call my grandma.
When I sit down at my cubicle, I’ll turn to see Lois Sachar sitting next to me with a copy of “Sideways Stories from Wayside School.” He’ll read me the little chapters out loud and I’ll giggle while I work.
On my way home, I’ll stop for gas and the station attendant will be Gordon Korman. “Need you’re oil checked?” he’ll say. I don’t know why he’ll say that. He just will.
Then when I finally get home, my husband will run out to meet me and say, “Honey, guess who is joining us for your sixth annual 29th birthday dinner!?”
“Judy Blume?”
“No!”
“Madonna?”
“Even better…Jay and Eve.”
Aaaaaaaahhhh…the perfect ending to a perfect birthday.
--Robin
I will wake up in the morning to breakfast in bed presented to me by the entire staff at Scholastic. “Wake up, sleepy head,” they’ll say. “You need energy to sign all those book contracts!”
When I walk into the kitchen, Carolyn Mackler will be trimming fresh flowers from the garden and saying, “Oh-ma-god, Robin, you look so totally good for 29!”
As I head off to work, a limo will pull up and Richard Peck will be driving. He’ll tell me a story about how my office is such a long way from Chicago, and he’ll talk to me the whole way there in such a soothing and genius way, that it reminds me that I need to read all of his books again. Then call my grandma.
When I sit down at my cubicle, I’ll turn to see Lois Sachar sitting next to me with a copy of “Sideways Stories from Wayside School.” He’ll read me the little chapters out loud and I’ll giggle while I work.
On my way home, I’ll stop for gas and the station attendant will be Gordon Korman. “Need you’re oil checked?” he’ll say. I don’t know why he’ll say that. He just will.
Then when I finally get home, my husband will run out to meet me and say, “Honey, guess who is joining us for your sixth annual 29th birthday dinner!?”
“Judy Blume?”
“No!”
“Madonna?”
“Even better…Jay and Eve.”
Aaaaaaaahhhh…the perfect ending to a perfect birthday.
--Robin
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Queen of Cool --Eve
How do you know that you don’t totally suck at writing? That’s the question I asked my SCBWI retreat roommate, Cecil Castellucci, three years ago. Cecil is the coolest chick ever. A total bad-ass who is honest, creative, and funny as hell. She gave me a wonderful answer...and some killer advice that I will pass onto my fellow Pre-Published out there in blog-land.
At the time Cecil was Pre-Published as well. I was wide-eyed and brand new to writing. Her sense of humor and unshakable confidence inspired me. She said, “We all suck at first. Then as the years go on and we hone our craft, we suck less and less. Pretty soon you won’t suck at all. Then it’s just a matter of time. You just wait your turn in line!”
I loved the idea that the harder I worked, the less I would suck. And...I did suck, by the way. I know this because Sue Alexander told me so, and I am forever indebted to her for preventing me from multiple-submitting my heinous cliché-laden, dreadfully preachy, “Puppy Cancer” manuscript.
Anyway, I'm happy to announce that Cecil got to the front of the line and published her first book last year. BOY PROOF is a fun read, and it nails the “outsider-teen-angsty-girl” thing in such a unique way. Her latest book, QUEEN OF COOL, has been getting rave reviews as well. It’s exciting to see someone who was once in my Pre-Published shoes finally succeeding and living the dream. It gives me great hope.
I think about Cecil Castellucci’s advice every single day. I’ve worked nonstop the last four years to learn the craft of writing for children, and am finally at a point where I don’t totally suck. So, according to Cecil, now I just wait my turn in line. Hope it’s short...not one of those long-ass, brand-new-ride-at-Disneyland lines.
Thanks, Queen of Cool! Can’t wait to join you in the front of the line.
--Eve
At the time Cecil was Pre-Published as well. I was wide-eyed and brand new to writing. Her sense of humor and unshakable confidence inspired me. She said, “We all suck at first. Then as the years go on and we hone our craft, we suck less and less. Pretty soon you won’t suck at all. Then it’s just a matter of time. You just wait your turn in line!”
I loved the idea that the harder I worked, the less I would suck. And...I did suck, by the way. I know this because Sue Alexander told me so, and I am forever indebted to her for preventing me from multiple-submitting my heinous cliché-laden, dreadfully preachy, “Puppy Cancer” manuscript.
Anyway, I'm happy to announce that Cecil got to the front of the line and published her first book last year. BOY PROOF is a fun read, and it nails the “outsider-teen-angsty-girl” thing in such a unique way. Her latest book, QUEEN OF COOL, has been getting rave reviews as well. It’s exciting to see someone who was once in my Pre-Published shoes finally succeeding and living the dream. It gives me great hope.
I think about Cecil Castellucci’s advice every single day. I’ve worked nonstop the last four years to learn the craft of writing for children, and am finally at a point where I don’t totally suck. So, according to Cecil, now I just wait my turn in line. Hope it’s short...not one of those long-ass, brand-new-ride-at-Disneyland lines.
Thanks, Queen of Cool! Can’t wait to join you in the front of the line.
--Eve
Friday, June 30, 2006
Finding DiscoLand #2
“Seek and ye shall find…something TOTALLY different than what you were looking for.”
Such is the case for those who typed the following words into search engines and discovered us. The Disco Mermaids!
- how to make ganja vegetable oil -
(Dude, don't even bother telling us it's to cook with or run your car.)
- funny foot in mouth -
(So where should I stick my serious foot?)
- big hooters -
(Come on! This is the internet, not a pornshop.)
- platypus preacher -
(I bet he prays to a duckbilled deity.)
- how do mermaids give birth -
(Okay, ready for this? By Sea-section. HA!)
- images three mermaids teaching -
(So far, the only thing you'll learn from us is how NOT to get published...but how to have a blast while you're at it!)
Such is the case for those who typed the following words into search engines and discovered us. The Disco Mermaids!
- how to make ganja vegetable oil -
(Dude, don't even bother telling us it's to cook with or run your car.)
- funny foot in mouth -
(So where should I stick my serious foot?)
- big hooters -
(Come on! This is the internet, not a pornshop.)
- platypus preacher -
(I bet he prays to a duckbilled deity.)
- how do mermaids give birth -
(Okay, ready for this? By Sea-section. HA!)
- images three mermaids teaching -
(So far, the only thing you'll learn from us is how NOT to get published...but how to have a blast while you're at it!)
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Way Too Embarrassing -- Jay
Lunch today was pretty interesting. Robin and I went to a costume shop to get ideas for this year’s Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators national conference. The theme for the after hours party is Jade Jubilee. If you click Disco! and Mermaids! under our Biggest Hits list, you’ll see what we wore the previous two years.
Our criteria for this year:
1. Jade...obviously.
2. The three of us need to match.
3. No wigs. Dancing + Wigs = Way too much sweat.
4. Cross-dressing is fun!
We thought we’d found the perfect costumes. Robin went into the dressing room first.
“Are you dressed?” I asked.
“Uh...yeah,” she said.
“Can I see?” I asked.
“Uh...no,” she said.
So I begged. I pleaded.
And finally, she opened the door.
“Uh...no,” I said.
Let’s just say, if I wore a costume that short, people would be able to tell I wasn’t a real woman from a mile away (okay, maybe not a full mile).
In the end, we did find three matching costumes that fit our criteria...and these costumes will be a lot less drafty.
- Jay
Our criteria for this year:
1. Jade...obviously.
2. The three of us need to match.
3. No wigs. Dancing + Wigs = Way too much sweat.
4. Cross-dressing is fun!
We thought we’d found the perfect costumes. Robin went into the dressing room first.
“Are you dressed?” I asked.
“Uh...yeah,” she said.
“Can I see?” I asked.
“Uh...no,” she said.
So I begged. I pleaded.
And finally, she opened the door.
“Uh...no,” I said.
Let’s just say, if I wore a costume that short, people would be able to tell I wasn’t a real woman from a mile away (okay, maybe not a full mile).
In the end, we did find three matching costumes that fit our criteria...and these costumes will be a lot less drafty.
- Jay
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Inspiration on a Cliff—Robin
I’ve been finding inspiration for my writing in a strange place lately. Near my house is a trail that runs along the bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Now, it’s a beautiful place and that would make sense that I would find inspiration in nature.
It’s peculiar because the inspiration only hits me when I run along the trail approximately 1.75 miles in. Yes, that is typically when my energy “poops” out and I take a break to push past the sage bushes so I can look over the steep cliff and into the blue-green water. Every time I do this—and I mean EVERY time—I suddenly get an inspirational thought about what to do next in my novel. It’s utterly amazing. I’ve considered trying to run a little farther down the trail to see if the ending of my book will suddenly pop in my head, but unfortunately the trail dead ends at a fence that borders our local nuclear power plant.
Now, those scientific-minded people would say the explanation for this unexplained inspiration must come from one of two sources:
1. By running I release endorphins which pulsate in the limbic corteal regulatory hemisphere of my brain, thus releasing creative thoughts.
2. The chemicals from the nuclear power plant are making me loopy.
Well, I don’t buy either one of those ideas. It’s obvious to me that my inspiration is coming from one source…at the end of that trail sits a little magical leprechaun hiding in the sage brush who can hear my thoughts and sprinkles me with magic dust to pulsate the limbic corteal regulatory hemisphere of my brain, thus releasing creative thoughts. Makes perfect sense.
But please don’t try to locate this magical leprechaun yourself. I’m not sure I’m willing to share this good fortune. (Though there’s probably not too many trails on the coast of California that dead end into a nuclear power plant. DOH!)
Okay, fine. Borrow my leprechaun. But save some magical dust for me. I gotta finish this book somehow!
--Robin
It’s peculiar because the inspiration only hits me when I run along the trail approximately 1.75 miles in. Yes, that is typically when my energy “poops” out and I take a break to push past the sage bushes so I can look over the steep cliff and into the blue-green water. Every time I do this—and I mean EVERY time—I suddenly get an inspirational thought about what to do next in my novel. It’s utterly amazing. I’ve considered trying to run a little farther down the trail to see if the ending of my book will suddenly pop in my head, but unfortunately the trail dead ends at a fence that borders our local nuclear power plant.
Now, those scientific-minded people would say the explanation for this unexplained inspiration must come from one of two sources:
1. By running I release endorphins which pulsate in the limbic corteal regulatory hemisphere of my brain, thus releasing creative thoughts.
2. The chemicals from the nuclear power plant are making me loopy.
Well, I don’t buy either one of those ideas. It’s obvious to me that my inspiration is coming from one source…at the end of that trail sits a little magical leprechaun hiding in the sage brush who can hear my thoughts and sprinkles me with magic dust to pulsate the limbic corteal regulatory hemisphere of my brain, thus releasing creative thoughts. Makes perfect sense.
But please don’t try to locate this magical leprechaun yourself. I’m not sure I’m willing to share this good fortune. (Though there’s probably not too many trails on the coast of California that dead end into a nuclear power plant. DOH!)
Okay, fine. Borrow my leprechaun. But save some magical dust for me. I gotta finish this book somehow!
--Robin
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