"You're Going To Get Murdered"

Sad isn't it?
But, at least I'm saving $40/month

As my previous blog suggests, before I went off adventuring, I told everyone I was going to Boston via a train, and that I'd be there from THIS time to THIS time, and I'd be on time for work Thursday. Their response? "You're going to get murdered. We need to find someone to cover your shift."

The morning of, I found my comfy yet sensible shoes, and drove to close up my storage unit (sad, I've had it for two years), and then waited at the train station where I realized, I really suck at public transportation and I forgot to pack myself snacks.

I was tired when I got on the train. I needed to pee. But I sat next to a kind stranger who was in law school (I told her about my author-ness, and my public speaking-ness, in case some day I need a lawyer), and she offered to escort me to my mysterious twitter friend. I told her I'd be fine, and tried to stay awake. When I got to the point of wanting to gnaw my arm off, I ate some cough drops to tide me over until I could get food.

Soon, we arrived in Boston. I said goodbye to the kind stranger, and ventured off, potentially ready to get murdered, potentially ready for a fun day. Either way, I was holding my breath and trying to keep an open mind because I had no idea what I was in store for.

I looked through the crowd before I figured out that I really only knew what her hair looked like, not her face. (In her profile picture, she's looking to the side.)

Liz (left) me (right) standing
on the Holocaust Memorial

Then some sketchy woman kept walking beside me. But when I looked again, she had blond hair, like in a profile picture, so finally, I said, "Are you Liz?" And she said, "Yes," and is no longer sketchy. I actually hugged her in a greeting (and you all know how I feel about hugs, don't you?)  From there, we went to Dunkin Dounuts and I was given an egg and sausage sandwich and an peppermint iced latte, which was mostly delicious. And then the fun began!

The nice thing about meeting someone who is as indecisive as you is that your adventure turns into a "Hey, this looks cool, let's go here!" adventure. We saw the Holocaust Memorial (heartbreaking, truly. If you haven't seen this, you ought to) and a woman who was preserving the engraved stones. We saw street performers spin on their heads and do a flip over about four people. We walked through a large mall (just to keep warm!) and tried to stop in the Boston Library (except they closed early because the following day was Thanksgiving). After that, we walked past a Barnes and Noble, so of course we went in (and she bought a book, while I gushed about authors I've met in real life, and the ones I follow on Twitter, and how some day, we'll be able to see my book there). Then we had some time to kill and sat at a Starbucks while I trusted strangers to keep an eye on my $800 cell phone (which I did NOT pay $800 for, but only a penny). And then...

We went to the Mother Church.

Not sure if I was allowed to take a picture, but I sure did

We were only able to stay for a little while, but it was fun. Definitely different than the Catholic church I was brought up in, but it was a nice reminder that I need to freshen up on religions I'm not a part of. After that, we took a bus to a restaurant where I met her friends (and they weren't murderers either!) and we had a wonderful meal.

By the time we finished eating (and I talked A LOT), we had to pretty much run to the store (Baxter needed food...we'd run out that morning) and then literally ran to the train where I sat beside a lovely handsome boy who is about to become a certified teacher (so of course I told him I write, and I do presentations). We watched Casino Royal and used my ear buds and apologized about ear wax. It really was a lovely day, with a lovely end.

The moral of this adventure is sometimes, it can be dangerous to meet strangers from the internet. But sometimes, it can be an epic day of adventure. If you do decide to go out, please, please, please be safe!

My new friend, Liz, and myself :)

Checking In

It's dark, but there were no safety nets
Yes...this is kind of a regular thing here :)

Sorry I've been MIA again. Between work, losing wifi for like four days, getting pulled over by an officer who flirted with me (and turned out to be married, even AFTER he visited me at work. Grr! But hey, I got out of a $250 fine for not having my car registered and having an out of state license, so it's still a win) and writing my ass off, I've been trying to think of blog topics and falling short. I've also been doing significant amounts of "research" (see: playing with neighbors, auditioning for our version of Ninja Warrior, and playing in the road).

Because of all of this (those of you who are writers...or are friends with writers) you should check THIS out.

I find it to be extremely true. Only rum instead of whiskey...but I can change :)

Also, I'm at about 45,000 words...so close to being done with After Elizabeth. Pretty excited. Anyone want to Beta?

High School Graduation

Can you tell how awkward I was?

Six years ago (oh man, I can't believe it's been six years already! I'm old!!), I sat in a very different seat. I wore a bright yellow gown, a hideous cap that made my large face look even bigger, and an orange ribbon for my best friend Kellie. Though I was nervous and excited, there was a hint of sadness...my best friend wouldn't be able to make it.

I sat through several graduations before my own. Usually they were my sisters', and sadly, they usually had a moment of silence, because the kids at Shepherd High School couldn't seem to make it out alive. Laura's graduation was especially gut wrenching as they showed four pictures behind the podium, and asked for a moment of silence for the graduates who weren't in attendance. Kellie, my best friend's picture was up there. Kara, Laura's best friend was up there. Two other graduates, guys I was less familiar with, were up there. In the silence, there was a collective cry through the auditorium because these were fresh wounds.

These were the types of graduations I was used to, the gut wrenching ones that played a slide show of happier times with Kenny Chesney singing, "Young," or Vitamin C, "Friends Forever (Graduation)". They got me, every time.

This winter, I had the honor of coaching what I'd dubbed my all star team. We met on Sundays for four weeks. There was a brilliant girl who was the valedictorian of her high school, and also established a dive team, pretty much single-handedly. There were other people, cheerleaders who placed in competitions, racers...etc. Overall, I was always impressed to hear about their accomplishments each week. On the last Sunday, the group asked if they could friend me on Facebook, and I said yes. One of them took me up on the offer. Her name was Emily.

My all star team and me (in red)

Since the winter, we've been chatting pretty regularly and keeping each other updated on our lives. She's an aspiring veterinarian, and overall awesome human being who started her own foundation. IN HIGH SCHOOL. She talked about her graduation speech, and knowing that I'm a writer asked if I could look it over and offer suggestions. Okay, so you guys thing querying is nerve wracking? This about leveled me. I didn't want to say something wrong, or impose too much because this was her address! Like, this was huge! So I offered what I could, making smart-ass remarks here and there, and in the end, she thanked me, and let me run through it one more time.

It was around then, that I asked if I could attend her graduation. I felt like an invasive species, moving in where I didn't belong, but dangit, I taught her over the winter, and we're friends. I wanted to be there for her because #1, the people at her school sucked (bullies) and #2, I remember how awesome it felt when not only my family showed up at my graduation, but my friends.

Her, walking in with Cherio, a service dog in training :)

She eagerly gave me the date, and I scheduled the day off from work. I drove the hour and ten minutes to her high school (a place I'd never been before) and parked my car with Baxter in the backseat. I walked in, following the mass of parents and siblings, not knowing anyone, or if I was even walking the right way, and found her mother in the through way of the building. I had a lip ring, two eyebrow rings, and an anxiety attack waiting to hit at any moment. But, I pretended to be outgoing (something I've been working on since I uprooted me and Bax and moved to Maine). I sat between Emily's sister and father, and in front of her mother and grandfather. We told stories, I offered memories of teaching her on the mountain, and some of the conversations we've had, and started the slow practice of relaxing.

When the band started playing Pomp and Circumstance, the people in attendance rose and greeted the graduates. Truth be told, I'm only used to seeing Emily in a helmet, goggles, and a pink jacket. I was terrified that I wouldn't recognize her. I sort of told her family this, and then laughed saying, "I'm really just looking for the fluffy hair," because that's what I remembered from the day I didn't have lunch money and she "tipped" me five bucks so I could eat. (Thanks again, Em).

I ended up sitting through the graduation with the chair digging into my back, listening to her speech (which rocked, by the way!) and cheering louder than I had on the mountains. It was also kind of cool because since I've redirected my life to focus more fully on writing, I hadn't attended a graduation since college, so this adventure doubled as research (as My Sister's Memories, and Character Defects have a graduation piece, and After Elizabeth may, too).

I am so proud of her!

After the ceremony, her family invited me over, fed me, and offered me beverages, which I accepted readily. When I left, I sort of anxiously looked down her driveway (it was long, I have a habit of hitting things with my car), and said "I should be able to back out of this." Two seconds later, I looked up, and Emily and her sister were waving their arms. Sure enough, I looked in my rear view mirror and was about to back into a tree. "Want me to back your car out?" she offered, and I stepped out of the way. It turns out, not only can she get stellar grades, but she can also drive pretty well, too :)

Long story short, Emily is one of many of my friends graduating this year. So here's to you; Eli, Annika, Emily, D.J., Matty, and anyone else who makes up the class of 2012 (even if some of you graduated college, not high school :) ). You're all amazing and thanks for being an awesome part of my life :)

(If I missed anyone, lemme know, and I'll add you to the list, too :) )

Research II: Obtaining Sponsorship

You know that moment where you write about something really cool? Like, maybe your MC throws a disc in a game of disc golf, or takes off running in a cross country meet, or stands up in front of peers at prom to sing some karaoke? And then you realize...

Crap. I don't know what I'm talking about.

Me (black) and sister (tie-die) preparing to sing karaoke.
The dismayed, "What am I doing here?" face is why
this picture is here :)

There's a point where you can't just make something up because in fiction, things have to make sense, or at least, be plausible. For example, if you're at a soccer game, you're not going to start dribbling the ball with your hand. Some people may not know that, but a majority will.

This is the point where you have to do research and fully understand what you're writing. Sometimes it's as easy as going to a middle school/high school and chatting with some kids. Sometimes you can google, "What are tents made out of?" (Which I literally did yesterday.)

In My Sister's Memories, Allie and Mike were stellar disc golf players. I sided more with Sarah (the older sister) who ended up in the trees. I'd played a couple of times before, once at church camp when I was in like, 8th grade, and once in August when I'd evacuated for Hurricane Irene. This second time, I played with my friend Jake and his friend Greg, who were extremely good players.

An excellent place to play if you're ever in Burlington, NC

At the time I'd played, I didn't expect disc golf to appear in a novel, but in November, that's what Allie ended up playing. Because I'd taken pictures with Jake and Greg, I had a decent recollection of the day and the game, but it had still been awhile since I'd played.

Now, I lived in Maine and had no idea where disc golf courses were, and didn't own any of my own equipment. So, I contacted Innova Discs, sent a simple e-mail saying:

My name is Lynne Schmidt, and I'm an author doing researching on disc golf for my young adult novel. (I told them the premise of the story), and then said, I was wondering if you'd be willing to donate some discs for my research?

Sure enough, less than a week later, I had an Innova Disc box waiting for me on the kitchen table. It was April before I really got to play, but when I did, I took note of the surroundings, the way I threw (and still managed to end up in the trees). But I got to play, I got to do sponsored research, and it was fun. PLUS! I got to keep the discs for future playing!

So, what's my point? Sometimes we don't have money to fully research our projects (after all, we are writers). But sometimes, we can contact companies, and they'll be willing to help us out in exchange for a blog post. If they're not willing, trust me, the lack of response doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting rejected from agents :)

Here's to research and here's to sponsorship!

Research

Sometimes, research is fun. Like that time Innova Discs sent me a starter kit to research Disc Golf for My Sister's Memories. Or, harassing companies to see if they'll sponsor me for other research, or bugging friends, or even just hanging out and people watching.

The fun kind of research: sibling dynamics :)
*I'm on the right*

But, sometimes, researching your story...it's gut wrenching work.

I started a new project, potentially called After Elizabeth, a couple of days ago (which is why I've been MIA), and in three days managed to write 13,000 words (Woot! Victory dance!). And then I hit a point where I had to do something I've never done before. Write an obituary. For a girl who committed suicide.

This was hard for a couple of reasons:
1) Senior year of college, a friend killed herself. Her body was never found (to my knowledge, but that knowledge may be outdated now). I'd moved in 8th grade, and she and I had stopped talking. But, I like to live in this world where my friends stay alive forever, and are happy all the time, whether I'm near or far. It's not too much to ask, right? So Laura told me that she'd committed suicide, and I went to the porch and chain smoked until I stopped shaking.
2) I have a million other friends who died of things like; cancer, drunk driving accidents, bad driving accidents, etc
3) I've only read obituaries....Never actually written one
4) This obituary was almost written for me in October

Swallowing all of this, I tried to write around the obituary, but in the end, the story prevailed, and needed this written. I googled Suicide Obituaries, and found THIS website. From there, I literally took the step by step instructions and wrote. I called my mom, read the first couple of versions until she told me I needed to have life-accomplishments. This, then, is my first obituary:

Elizabeth Alexandra Travis, 16 years old, passed away unexpectedly on October 1, 2012. Born in Portland, Maine on April 8^th, 1996, she is survived by her mother, Natalie Wright of Portland, her father, Marc Travis of Gilead, and her best friend, Claire Downs of Portland. The bright junior is remembered as a gifted and accomplished cross country runner, a smart student, a loving daughter, caring teammate, and amazing friend. She is preceded in death by her beloved dog, Baxter. Friends and family wishing to donate are asked to send the proceeds to Hope Hotline, or any other suicide prevention foundation.

I think I'm okay with how it turned out. I especially liked that the best friend was added on there (I definitely feel like the parents would have written that given the girl's relationship). Also, I feel like a dick for killing her dog, but that, too, needed to be done.

So, for you writers. What are some of the hard parts of research for you?