Titles Are Hard

We're rolling right along with my brilliant scheme of putting up lame teaser posts here at the mothership, my true home and the place I should be tending to instead of those Other Places.

Today's stale offering is a whine I did a while back over at the EMUs about how I can't think of good titles. Like, it's a good thing I didn't have to come up with titles for famous books, is what I'm saying.

I do invite you to share your favorites and least favorite actual titles, either there or here. 

Are there any books you would not read in public because of their titles? Any you would read only because of their titles? Do tell.

I Can't Outline

It's true. I can't outline. I can think ahead, sort of. But I never know how my novels are going to end until I get there. Then it's like, "Oh, THAT'S what happens. Man, I need to go fix all that other stuff now."

I whined about this over at EMUs Debuts if you're interested. You'll be indifferent happy to know I have actually made progress on my current novel since posting that, most importantly by making a mock cover to go on my website until the real cover comes out, which won't be for months at least. So, you know, it's a good thing that got done.

It's kinda badass, though, right?
Like, "There's probably stabbing in this book."
SPOILER: There totally is. 

Also, my ARCs came today for the novel that's coming out in February. So let me just say WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!

WOOT TO THE WOOT POWER!

Here they are in their box:

I'm going to be posting more about STRANGE SWEET SONG on my soon-to-be-in-existence website, and over at EMUs Debuts, but you guys totally got first peek at these. Because I love you, internet friends. In a creepy, non-platonic way.

<3

UPDATE: I did the crappiest cover reveal of all time over at EMUs Debuts. So if you want to see the cover that you've already seen, feel free to click on over. Also Tom Hiddleston.

You Are Never Safe

So the contract is signed, the editorial letter has been received, and it's saaamoooooth sailin' from here on out.

WRONG.

You may recognize the creature with the menacing yellow eyes as a cat. You may also recognize the object upon which she is perched as a bathtub, complete with bath water and foot belonging to me.

This is my life now, both literally -- as I am actually taking a bath with a cat standing on the edge of the tub -- and figuratively, as my literal situation is also a metaphor for the insecurity of my writing life as a whole.

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This is literally the best "thumbs up" picture on the entire Internet.

For those of you unfamiliar with cats and/or bathtubs, Manic Thumbs-Up Guy will provide a helpful tutorial:

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No one wants a cat in a bathtub. Cat + Bathtub = Instant Bloody Razor Agony Death. But cats don't realize this until the instant they are ripping your face off in a frenzied, homicidal attempt to escape the water they just jumped into.

Getting a book deal is a little like a nice warm bath, flowery soaps, all the pencil puzzles and/or Miss Marples you could desire . . . and a cat sitting on the edge.

Because at any moment, for no reason, it could all go horribly, horribly wrong.

If you would like to read about my editor jumping into the bathtub with me, head on over to EMUs Debuts.

Head on a Pike, or The Upward Spiral

Over at the 'Mus, or as the non-hep people say, Emus Debuts, I've whined about the guilt that comes with signing a contract.

My contract. Hahaha!
No, srsly, that's my actual contract.

So, you know, feel free to click on over and give it the eyeball. Or if you fear uncharted waters and would prefer to stay here where it's safe, here are some random photos from my phone to entertain you (also, stop going through my garbage):

A picture of the word "condiments" on a menu that I sent to my friend Lauren who hates condiments.

Rainbow pegasus unicorn I drew that has recently surfaced at my grandmother's house.

A picture sent to me by my parents of warm cookies they were about to enjoy while I was in another state subsisting on cafeteria food.

Chico

My grandmother's red markered glee that she beat me at Farkle. Surprise!

A squirrel who really wanted my lunch.

Swoonworthy

In an attempt to make it look like I'm still alive, I'm going to put up a couple linky posts here so interested 'Net friends can check out what I've actually been doing. ANSWER: More of the same, only somewhere else. And SLIGHTLY less asinine.

Here I talk about trying to achieve A Swoonworthy Debut. It's not as easy as one would think. You can't just be like, "And then she saw him. And he was really hot. No, like, he was REALLY hot."

Brett Kiger

SUPER hot.

So if you're interested, ch-ch-check it out.

Until next time. Unless I get hit by a bus. Or engulfed by the flames of my swoonworthy protagonist.