It’s my party and I’ll cry if I … No, that doesn’t fit! How about, “Welcome to the Freakshow!” Um no. Let’s try, “I want to rock and roll all night… and party everyday!”
Better. But it might be best just to say welcome to the Internet release party for Read My Lips! Grab yourself a latte, green tea chai or a martini, and have some fun! I have major guest authors, books being given away everyday, surprises and check out the grand prize!
Fifteen books from some of the best and brightest authors Simon Pulse has to offer. Check out the list!
1. City of Bones by Cassandra Clare
2. Wake by Lisa McMann
3. The Au Pairs, Sunkissed by Melissa De La Cruz
4. Private by Kate Brian
5. Wild Roses by Deb Caletti
6. Forever by Judy Blume
7. Chill by Deborah Reber
8. Prama by Jamie Ponti
9. Goddess Games by Niki Burnham
10. Extras by Scott Westerfeld
11. Glass by Ellen Hopkins
12. Ironside by Holly Black
13. Night World by LJ Smith
14. Uninvited by Amanda Marrone
15. 100 Girls by Adam Gallardo, Todd Demong
Now that you know what the grand prize is, you’re going to want to know how to win it, right? The rules are simple. The winner will be drawn at random from everyone who leaves me a comment this week— from now till midnight Friday the 13th. (Ohhh that sounds ominous!) Sorry, only people living in the continental US are eligible. Winner will be announced Saturday, June 14th.
Now on to our first guest author, the fabulous New York Times Best Selling author of WAKE, Lisa McMann, I wanted to let you know that all my guests will be writing on my fish out of water theme... Ever felt like that?
Teri, I'm so excited about READ MY LIPS. Congratulations on writing a brilliant novel and I hope you enjoy these moments! Way to go -- you should get a tattoo or something to commemorate it, you know???
(Hmmm, why would she say that?)
The older my kids get, the more I like them. I have felt this way since they were born, because part of me is still an obnoxious teenager and now I finally have cohorts. So naturally at the San Diego Zoo’s gorilla exhibit a few weeks ago, when my 14-year-old muttered “go suck a mean one” in a cranky old-person’s voice to zoo-goers standing in our way, it put me in hysterics.
Have you ever seen gorillas? Unbelievable. We watched, mesmerized as the two babies wrestled and twirled in front of the plate glass window. Decided then and there that we must have one of our very own to hug.
And then. You know what’s really funny, right?
Poop. Especially gorilla poop.
At the silverback’s first squat, fifty adult on-lookers immediately began shuffling their feet, looking away, embarrassed, while fifty children and teens (and one adult) oohed and giggled and watched, fascinated by the way that gorillas move their bowels, sitting bass-ackwards to the glass in the toilet area of their cage. And what they do, you see (because I am SURE you are curious), is they actually squat, push AND pull – that is, they reach around and carefully help the bright green roughage softballs along by pulling. Absolutely fascinating. Now, some teens out there will be reading this and saying, “ew, gross!” But secretly, I bet they’d all watch too if they knew nobody was judging them.
Fast forward to my book signing the next day. Facing me in perfect rows of chairs were about twenty-five adults and one – ONE – teenager. Adults make me nervous. They ask about WAKE’s “theme” and “message” and “symbolism,” all questions I have no idea how to answer except to say, “It’s just a book. You read it, and hopefully you get sucked into the story because it’s exciting and suspenseful and there’s a hot romance in it, too. That’s all.”
And all the while I stuttered out answers to the adult questions, I had this incredible urge to blurt out to the one teenager there, “Guess what?! I saw a gorilla poop into his hand yesterday and it was awesome.”
Best wishes on your launch, Teri!
Thanks Lisa! Next we have the fabulously funny and, quite possibly, brilliant Kristen Tracy, author of Lost it and Crimes of the Sarahs.
This is my first blog party ever. And to celebrate, I’m eating a cupcake. Thanks, Teri, for throwing it! And of course I think you should check out her debut book Read My Lips. (For the record, I like books even more than I like cupcakes, and that’s saying a lot, because recently I’ve become addicted to sugar again.) Okay. Here’s my fish out of water story. I was not blessed with athletic abilities. My head tends to attract balls. Softballs. Basketballs. Disco balls. Also, before I managed to escape adolescence, I broke both my arms, got hit in the head with a golf club, was involved in a minor bicycle wreck, and got attacked by a variety of random neighborhood pets. Plus, there was that incident with the lawn mower. So when I was fourteen and my parents gave me and my sisters skiing lessons, I feared for my life right away. Had I have realized how crowded the Bunny Hill was, I would have feared for the lives of others as well.
At the slopes (I'll skip over the hour-long, up-hill, treacherous bus ride, packed with insane teenage guys hellbent on tormenting my friend and seat mate about her eye deformity) we met our aged ski instructor Kirby. He asked us if we'd ever been skiing before. I said, “No.” To remain in my group, my older sister said the same. As well as several of my friends who’d decided to take lessons with me. But they were *totally* lying. They’d all been skiing before. I suspected some had developed a fair amount of technique. So, once our gear was on, our group looked extremely capable. We could walk forward in our skis and sideways. Plus, we could fall down and get up using our poles. Okay. I couldn’t do any of these things, but for some reason Kirby overlooked my failings and took our group to the next level. The ‘tow rope.’ The only piece of advice I was given before I gripped the tow rope, was ‘don’t let go.’ This was said emphatically by a man wearing goggles and snow pants. I got the message. When my friend Sue Ann (not real name) fell down in front of me, I didn’t know what to do. My first impulse was to let go of the rope so I wouldn’t ski over my friend. But then Kirby’s voice boomed in my head, “NEVER LET GO OF THE ROPE!” As I angled my ski tips up over Sue Ann’s new, puffy coat, and skied over her torso, I felt an odd mix of guilt and accomplishment. I never looked back.
Once we got to the top of the Bunny Hill, our instructor was impressed yet again by our group's skill level. Even Sue Ann managed to recover and join us. Then came the snow plow. Everybody--except me--mastered this technique within seconds. Soon, we all made it down the Bunny Hill and Kirby said it was the fastest a new group had ever done it. He was proud of us. My strategy for getting down the hill was to fall and roll a considerable distance before I tried to get back up. It got me down with the least amount of skiing. Then, the next thing I knew, we were all moving toward the ski lift. I remember thinking that we weren’t actually going to board it, but just study how other skiers got on it. Wrong! Kirby insisted that he should be my escort to the top. As I stood waiting, I remember feeling uncomfortably close to death. And as we traveled upward, I remember commenting, “It’s amazing people don’t fall off of these things.” To which Kirby replied, “Sometimes they do!” When we got to the top, Kirby signaled for the lift loaders/unloaders to slow down the lift. I wasn’t offended in the least. Once we were up on the mountain, I realized how exhausted and terrified I was. I stared down toward the lodge. They sold hot chocolate there. And muffins. I watched the rest of my group dutifully zigzagging in the snow plow position down the slope. I tried. And fell. And tried. And fell. “Left knee out!” Kirby yelled at me. I looked at the lodge again. Why couldn’t I just ski straight to it? Sure, I’d go fast, but once I hit the level bottom wouldn’t my momentum slow?
I pointed my skis toward the lodge, lifted up my poles, and was off. The amount of speed a fourteen-year-old can accumulate shooting straight down a ski hill was amazingly higher than I’d anticipated. As I raced toward the lodge--eyes watering, lips twitching--I realized there were many things in addition to my rocket-speed that I had neglected to take into account. The biggest issue I faced was the ski line that stood between me and the lodge. Dozens of people were waiting to board the ski lift. And they only thing separating them from me was a small, orange, plastic snow fence. I noticed a few people point to me. The pointing turned into waving. Then, the line began to part very ‘Moses Red Sea style’ as I continued to barrel toward them. I’m not sure how fast I was going when my skis impacted the snow fence. Luckily, they got twisted up in it. This stopped me very quickly, ripping off my skis, boots, and one sock. But I remember being relieved to feel my bare foot in the snow, because having sensation in my extremities meant that I hadn’t suffered a spinal cord injury. Complete strangers ran to my side and asked if I was okay. Oh, I was more than okay. I didn’t feel a big sense of shame or embarrassment. This was the most athletic thing I’d ever done. I listened to them advise me about exceeding my abilities. Somebody said, “Stick to the Bunny Hill.” And another person said, “There’s more injuries on the Bunny Hill than on the actual slopes. All those beginners.” When I got home, my parents weren’t all that surprised to hear about my day. Apparently, my mother once skied over a St. Bernard.
Everyone who leaves a comment in the comments section is going to be entered into today’s book drawing! One lucky person will receive a copy of WAKE and another will receive a copy of Lost It. (You don't need to live in the continental US to win a book, just the grand prize)
Oh, and don’t forget, you will be entered into the grand prize drawing!