tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25374220402903309042024-03-05T03:22:46.897-07:00Janet Gurtler- YA AddictRandom thoughts from the mind of a YA AuthorJanet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-27948715896902888242017-08-05T13:14:00.001-06:002017-08-05T13:23:12.326-06:00LifeZello Blog.<br />
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I have not posted for awhile. Life as it were. I've been busy living it. Parenting a teen, which is much different that BEING a teen or WRITING about teens. It's a whole new perspective and while I love my teen with every ounce of my being, it is also a challenge. Who knew! Ha!<br />
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I've also been on a whirl of jobs over the last year. Exactly one year ago I left a perfectly lovely full time job as a sales merchandiser when an opportunity came up to work in a high school as an EA. (Educational Assistant) for the English Department. I thought I would use my writing background and flourish and work school hours and have time to create more words while making a difference in young people's lives. Yeah. I lasted two weeks. Now that was not a light choice (leaving the job) and it was VERY embarrassing to pull the plug on it, but it was a HORROR for me and my emotional health. I simply was not prepared. I had no training and no guidance and the learning curve would have taken all my time. I had to learn the entire curriculum and also take on subjects OTHER than English. Like Social, which I didn't even like when I took it over thirty years ago. It looked like months of studying high school all over again, when I thought my evenings would be free to write books. I took it all way too seriously and was drowning in feelings of ineptitude and helplessness and overwhelm. I felt like I was failing everyone I was dealing with and failing myself and realized I was wildly unsuited for this type of thing at this stage of my life. Whew. I'd though I was taking on something that would enhance my writing and it sucked everything out of me. It was humbling and emotionally draining and did I mention, embarrassing! So I left quickly with the hope they were able to quickly hire the other person who interviewed for the job. From what I hear, it all worked out well for that person, and other than my bruised ego and lowered self esteem, life went on for everyone. I ended up quickly getting another temporary full time job (within days) back in the same industry I'd left to try the EA position.<br />
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So I worked full time for that company until the new year, and then found a part time job with a chocolate company, thinking the extra time to write would balance it out. Except I found that dealing with expired chocolate and a marketing company highly unsatisfying and frustrating and really disliked it. So I kept my ears and eyes open and fate led me back to the company that I originally left one year ago to try working as an EA. The person who replaced me as a sale merchandiser when I left got promoted and when I expressed interest, my old boss asked me to come back. A full circle as it were, and this time I go back with an appreciation for the job and the company. I'm grateful it worked out as it did.<br />
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As for the writing, well, I do have a wonderful YA proposal out on submission. I really love the story and had hopes it would find a home, but in the current market, with things as they are, it may not. If it doesn't, well, I'll have to see where the journey takes me next.<br />
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I've had a great run with my six YA books pubbed with Sourcebooks. The first two titles were published over six years ago (and those two are still the best sellers). Unfortunately the last titles haven't done well in sales, and this makes a difference when trying to sell a new book.<br />
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I was pretty sad when I went into an Indigo book store last week and discovered that after carrying all my titles for many years, it looks like they've (Indigo) de-listed them from the stores. I took it as a real sign when I first discovered it, thinking it meant my days as an author are over. Cue sad music and teary eyes. At the time of the discovery, I was waiting to hear if I'd get my old job back and also waiting to hear from a couple of editors about the book on submission. It seemed like a SIGN. The end of my book writing days.<br />
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Since then I've been offered the job. My son continues to be a teen. Life kind of keeps going on. I'm contemplating. I miss "being an author". I miss the book world. I miss writing all the time. But it's also hard. It's a hard industry to make it in. It's time consuming and it can be draining. But I move forward over the next couple of weeks, knowing I still have a couple of houses looking at my proposal. So I'm not done yet. I think the book is good, I do, and I think it could sell. But. It might not. And yet, I'll still be here. Living my life. Figuring it out. I've seen a lot of authors fade away over the last years. There's lots of new authors coming up. For some I guess, it becomes a career. For others it's a dream come true. And then well, I guess there's more dreaming to do. Life gets lived and moves on.<br />
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Whatever happens, I have to remember that I did what I set out to do. I published books. I had book signings and people read my work. Some loved the books, others not so much. None of it goes away. It just kind of becomes a memory. And memories aren't so bad are they? In the next couple of weeks I'll go back to a job that offers me many great things. I have books in my brain, pieces on my laptop in files. I still want to write. I have two women's fiction ideas that are patiently waiting for me. Life will take me places. I will make decisions, and decisions will be made for me. Sometimes we're in the driver seat, and sometimes we're just along for the ride.<br />
<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-44701720530150658312017-04-04T05:00:00.000-06:002017-04-04T18:05:55.731-06:00Welcome to the 2017 TEAM PINK Scavenger Hunt. Featuring Author- SUSAN FAW <div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCU1qjQnjAkt0lnZQOW-WtqahsSJ9TIaPAyOG77EVKpeuIuExs0M4WImx_KIfX7Y-wM8OR5hSBynZixA0wa6ajpxRQnNwX-lDZuHBw2FdQ1dRgPG21ghbT7HEnhGn3KWa5_7Ci-vj-BP6/s1600/Team+Pink+%2528002%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #b6d7a8; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCU1qjQnjAkt0lnZQOW-WtqahsSJ9TIaPAyOG77EVKpeuIuExs0M4WImx_KIfX7Y-wM8OR5hSBynZixA0wa6ajpxRQnNwX-lDZuHBw2FdQ1dRgPG21ghbT7HEnhGn3KWa5_7Ci-vj-BP6/s400/Team+Pink+%2528002%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<b><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">PINK!! </span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One of my favorite singers! One of my favorite colors! And now I get to be on TEAM PINK for the SPRING 2017 YA SCAVENGER HUNT. Win/win. Yes!!!</span></b>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">You know how JayZ's always going off about how he has 99 problems? Well. I. Janet </span><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">E. Gurtler have more. I have </span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">151. </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">That's right</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">.</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">..151. </span></span></b></span><b style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b><b style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am super happy to be hosting a fabulous author on my page! Her name is Susan Faw and here's more about her and her books!</span></b></span><b style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b><b style="background-color: #93c47d;"><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-X6oUO2HirH_h2OS1eHN8HL9ZHynp4op2Zb5_kopsvBn0ecrjgJTVAvI6dW8wHjfdUgh5kCxg4fLZdG6kaTGlqPZA6q71C48KqIwFxDpB0Iq0wLv7lY99Fc45-4gFDGYkBQndjwX6IAp/s1600/me+pic+42+%2528003%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-X6oUO2HirH_h2OS1eHN8HL9ZHynp4op2Zb5_kopsvBn0ecrjgJTVAvI6dW8wHjfdUgh5kCxg4fLZdG6kaTGlqPZA6q71C48KqIwFxDpB0Iq0wLv7lY99Fc45-4gFDGYkBQndjwX6IAp/s200/me+pic+42+%2528003%2529.jpg" width="132" /></span></a><span style="color: magenta; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">MEET SUSAN FAW</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #111111; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Professional by day, book nerd and fantasy champion by night, <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #111111; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Susan is a masked crusader for the fantastical world. Championing
mythical rights, she quells uprisings and battles infidels who would slay the
lifeblood of her pen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #111111; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It’s all in a night’s work, for this whirlwind writer. Welcome to the
quest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Susan’s love of stories began before she could read or
write. Her earliest childhood memories include a make believe game she played
with her sister, creating and telling epic stories inspired by a picture chosen
at random from a National Geographic magazine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Susan spent her childhood summers reading and writing
sometimes serious, sometimes humorous works of fiction, imagining the worlds
beyond her walls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Susan is an avid reader of literature, especially science
fiction and fantasy. She loves to bring new worlds and fantasy adventures to
young adults and inspire them to join her on her make believe journeys. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You can find Susan at </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.susanfaw.com/">www.susanfaw.com</a></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, on twitter
@susandfaw or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SusanFaw.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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You can find out how it all began. Download the prequel novella, SOUL SURVIVOR,
for free! <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span><a href="http://dl.bookfunnel.com/g9f658np21"><span style="font-size: large;">CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR FREE COPY!!!</span></a><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">SEER OF SOULS just won GRAND PRIZE for YA Fiction at Chanticleer on April 1, 2017!!</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Seer Blurb:</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWZlAeEr49hPg45N8LNPzc2qiTmvIw6hYGfmvPjKVs07juqA85aNMJaqE0Sy1vIuseL26marT382i1pOe3br_nmwd2wALMJM5oR574v3sSsdtwDNBZ8qfls85-sAIiNIlu1t9o9O-FBhKC/s1600/The+Spirit+Shield+Saga+fb+banner+%2528003%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWZlAeEr49hPg45N8LNPzc2qiTmvIw6hYGfmvPjKVs07juqA85aNMJaqE0Sy1vIuseL26marT382i1pOe3br_nmwd2wALMJM5oR574v3sSsdtwDNBZ8qfls85-sAIiNIlu1t9o9O-FBhKC/s320/The+Spirit+Shield+Saga+fb+banner+%2528003%2529.png" width="320" /></span></a><span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The time for hiding is finished. The dead are
restless. She is COMING...</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Twins Cayden and Avery Tiernan have grown up in isolation
on the fringe of the realm. Gifted with forbidden skills, they hide their
growing magical powers. Ancient prophecies speak of the ones with the power to
depose the queen.</span><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">To protect her throne, Queen Alcina scours the
land for evidence of magic, while the darker force she serves threatens the
land with chaos. She is not the only huntress however. Primordial seekers
discover the twins first but before they can escape, the death of a queen’s
guard puts the entire village in jeopardy. To save their town, the twins flee,
only to be dragged toward an unknown destiny.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Guided by her gift, Avery senses lies and
treachery where others see only truth. Dare she trust her instincts? For
Cayden, an irresistible voice whispers to him. Does it belong to the souls of
the dead and are they calling him home?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">When sibling rivalry spills over into the land
of mortals, the mortals lose. Great evil, spawn of the underworld, is poised to
sweep all life from the planet, and only the twins can stop it. Jealousy, love,
hatred and magic battle for the ultimate control of the souls of the world.
Only one will be left standing, and if it is the wrong one, how will the world
survive?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #ff3399; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Exclusive Content:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A letter has surfaced from the battle front!
Unfortunately it is written in an ancient language that I cannot translate. I
could use your help with its translation!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Please, will you open it and advise me of the
contents? I will need to know where to send the scroll though. Click on the
link to join my mailing list and let me know if there is anything urgent in the
letter. Somehow, I think the information is coded to keep the information from
falling into enemy hands…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Yes, I want to help!<a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_1995481080"> </a></span><b><span style="color: #ff3399; font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;"><a href="http://bit.ly/2nXSIBn">CLICK HERE TO HELP!!</a></span></b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b><br /></b>
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">YA SPRING SCAVENGER HUNTERS!!</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b><br /></b>
<b><span style="color: magenta;">Link to the next member of TEAM PINK to collect the secret number</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><b><br /></b>
<b><span style="color: magenta;"><a href="http://www.patriciabtighe.com/">PATRICIA B. TIGHE</a></span></b></span></div>
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-41225184689792074232017-03-27T15:12:00.002-06:002017-03-27T15:13:15.532-06:00I'm Not Her Bonus - After the Book is Over- Graduation Scene<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9OarUj-M9ROc_I5T_YhAVeClEtpN-Oa8sKSrkSRnK-7YS2objLOFjLDHATWwkMUm7wovUOExXMk9EDlUWP3yQNC35WHBnmIrNXYQj34717PWOvEBaOeCH2hEcY2ODlGfFUSyUUfeDxk2/s1600/YA_ScavengerHunt_WebBanner+%2528002%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9OarUj-M9ROc_I5T_YhAVeClEtpN-Oa8sKSrkSRnK-7YS2objLOFjLDHATWwkMUm7wovUOExXMk9EDlUWP3yQNC35WHBnmIrNXYQj34717PWOvEBaOeCH2hEcY2ODlGfFUSyUUfeDxk2/s320/YA_ScavengerHunt_WebBanner+%2528002%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Bonus Scene for YASH Spring 2017-</div>
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APRIL 4-9, 2017</div>
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Almost three years after I’M NOT
HER is over, Tess is graduating from high school and there are a few familiar
faces joining her…. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-70262294450141979662017-03-27T12:59:00.001-06:002017-03-27T13:15:48.128-06:00SPRING YA TREASURE HUNT!!<br />
On April 4th....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitMttX0pvJrZnNX5QPA36AVsuN3SU5qnum1Ct0mrVHc7r-GRTxRiV2C14L2Ow8aYBM4GdWx-u9Q1mlIfoeIJF6a6uYvzBjurQQeTjqCJ2UQGYCJ4J9DM1FAfMiG8oZdbkx8SSMPIX5npHt/s1600/YA_ScavengerHunt_WebBanner+%2528002%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitMttX0pvJrZnNX5QPA36AVsuN3SU5qnum1Ct0mrVHc7r-GRTxRiV2C14L2Ow8aYBM4GdWx-u9Q1mlIfoeIJF6a6uYvzBjurQQeTjqCJ2UQGYCJ4J9DM1FAfMiG8oZdbkx8SSMPIX5npHt/s400/YA_ScavengerHunt_WebBanner+%2528002%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-76592260406481440002017-01-02T16:10:00.003-07:002017-01-02T16:12:02.094-07:00Happy 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQclqciDMjkSWuBzjttOxXWnJsBgrRqKIHNpvNzvB2zpLzjXLl9ilFxFF57ZvT0HAafuKKKnVIYsuG4WqT4cQ6da-Q01Jka0fLSYhZulx9ei6DaExI_q5LLnOH2GAfQUh-0GQTXNJ8XNtH/s1600/absolutesocks_2267_19686029__31391.1472151618.380.380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQclqciDMjkSWuBzjttOxXWnJsBgrRqKIHNpvNzvB2zpLzjXLl9ilFxFF57ZvT0HAafuKKKnVIYsuG4WqT4cQ6da-Q01Jka0fLSYhZulx9ei6DaExI_q5LLnOH2GAfQUh-0GQTXNJ8XNtH/s320/absolutesocks_2267_19686029__31391.1472151618.380.380.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Happy New Year</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">It's 2017 and so far so good. </span></b></div>
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<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-33215210017690304292016-10-06T07:54:00.001-06:002016-10-06T07:54:14.473-06:00All the Words<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1raFYJp_t816wkoGwSwp5ECvQcZR3dbDPJf8FWhp2cHZ_QWCKm0vVKbDzGTlsLbOSMAapq9hM2QZK2M16w_JcGBd3CegSUJ_R3eckMaSd-ylEWZPSgimHIgMVWclddBV48DziGUCh8rur/s1600/eecb694a4e861564119cd4b1f7f3ba17de28ee32f6776d64817c2e9ea92d7a6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1raFYJp_t816wkoGwSwp5ECvQcZR3dbDPJf8FWhp2cHZ_QWCKm0vVKbDzGTlsLbOSMAapq9hM2QZK2M16w_JcGBd3CegSUJ_R3eckMaSd-ylEWZPSgimHIgMVWclddBV48DziGUCh8rur/s320/eecb694a4e861564119cd4b1f7f3ba17de28ee32f6776d64817c2e9ea92d7a6a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-79243468924452427422016-04-10T15:28:00.003-06:002016-04-10T15:45:04.176-06:00Just Another Sunday. And A Bit About Books. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_CX3EHTtXlzBCfQtocwTuiFUkLMukGb3DqC-iPQy0G1S6aZJPLJIhFuBWZOIPJxSe4jbG2zo4YJEe8EU0940p8UQXZaU1bkm3gMgLCcB0DLOzOOkYVKOS3RxmOlaifo54UjXk9atOwIr/s1600/a+stingray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_CX3EHTtXlzBCfQtocwTuiFUkLMukGb3DqC-iPQy0G1S6aZJPLJIhFuBWZOIPJxSe4jbG2zo4YJEe8EU0940p8UQXZaU1bkm3gMgLCcB0DLOzOOkYVKOS3RxmOlaifo54UjXk9atOwIr/s200/a+stingray.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sunday. That’s my fun day? Well actually it’s more of, that’s
my cleaning day. But I don’t mind so much. The boys are out of the house, off
on another adventure that involves cars and things I try not to involve myself
in too much. My husband has a car collecting problem. For realz. But it keeps him busy and
sometimes happy though just as often frustrated. But he has the teen to take
along with him now. And to talk with about cars and car parts and car swaps. So. That’s
good right? Yes. Yes it is. Because as mentioned, I try not to involve myself
in it too much. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Enough about cars, now for my passion. Books. I read a few books over the last couple of weeks, all of
them very different. One of my favorite
expressions is that no person ever reads the same book. Meaning of course, that we all take different
things from the same book, depending on our life experiences and
many many other factors. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">One of the books I read was a Sourcebooks YA title that recently
made the New York Times Bestseller list. I was curious about what propelled it
to that list and was browsing through my eBook reader because I’d already
finished the two books on my bedside table. I was proud of the company that
published 6 of my YA novels, and of course, a little jealous because, human. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anyhow, the cover is fantastic. Really really well done. <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24529123-this-is-where-it-ends?from_new_nav=true&ac=1&from_search=true">Find it on Goodreads </a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9ZbLTkl7ot-IJUbKPaqukM_7tSJtdKoRHg5psa4EPrm1VRd1-GqHlazocesclpei98lN7KVDzACEjy_7yPMqKOMzywHs1oYHPJTmIGbWKT7UNN6HCN7lv9SzspM9QglwMPJnD9v9Mahj/s1600/a+book.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9ZbLTkl7ot-IJUbKPaqukM_7tSJtdKoRHg5psa4EPrm1VRd1-GqHlazocesclpei98lN7KVDzACEjy_7yPMqKOMzywHs1oYHPJTmIGbWKT7UNN6HCN7lv9SzspM9QglwMPJnD9v9Mahj/s200/a+book.jpe" width="133" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I enjoyed it and understood why it did as well as it
did. Very readable, unputdownable even. Many
of the characters came alive so clearly and it incorporated a whole line-up of
diverse characters without needing to point out that they were. If that makes any sense. I also liked the way the
author remained a little objective in her story too, and think it worked well. It
related in a very small way to the other book I just finished, The Glass
Castle, which was completely different but also so very strong and SO VERY
objective. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anyhow, I enjoyed how the author of TIWE didn’t try to over explain
the shooter’s (school shooting book btw) motivations too much other than some
background and character building. I thought that was well done because so many
times it seems we search and search for the why in these horrible tragedies and
there really aren’t any. There’s maybe reasons, excuses but never a clear cut "why" when a person goes over the edge.
How can you explain it? You can look for an answer, why, but it will never
ever be clear cut. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, kudos to her and to Sourcebooks for an amazing feat! </span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBHAFWE1okp1TuBwAglaSNEj6-dmSIUTZg8Ffj91mqWsKw5Mzv7LAxUk1s4kDMUvudVbETdoDDMeE6ztcEQJ8GBe2a0MgsepV1GkgBQZOD5iVr5U1Sx1WuRBepEaojUW0SgXitjnp4DI3/s1600/glass+castle.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBHAFWE1okp1TuBwAglaSNEj6-dmSIUTZg8Ffj91mqWsKw5Mzv7LAxUk1s4kDMUvudVbETdoDDMeE6ztcEQJ8GBe2a0MgsepV1GkgBQZOD5iVr5U1Sx1WuRBepEaojUW0SgXitjnp4DI3/s200/glass+castle.png" width="126" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I also really enjoyed The Glass Castle, which is non fiction
and one of those books that makes you think for days and days after. I don't know why this book was never on my radar, as it's an older book and a popular NYT bestseller as well. Probably because it's not something usually in my wheel house. I've been reading a lot more books that aren't YA lately. There's some great books in different genres, but when I go back to YA, I'm always happy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
parents in The Glass Castle are so off the charts that it’s hard to read at times.
It also made me think about how much I spoil my child. Which he may discuss
with his </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">therapist later in life. Right now I’ll just say, sorry little dude.
There’s no perfection in parenting, fo shizzle. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Another book I read (I won’t say what it was because one
thing I’ve learned as an author, is that I don’t want to say bad things about
other people’s books because they are probably really fricking proud of them) bugged the crap out of me. As above, what doesn’t work for me, might be the best thing someone else
ever read. Anyhow, it was by a very
famous author who is a brilliant writer, but it just BUGGED THE SHIT out of me.
It started out so good, and I was so happy with it and then it went all wonkers
and got off course and by the time it ended I was like WTF? But I did finish
it, which means something and I have to admire the author’s writing. So there’s that. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I also finished a YA that is the first in a series. Not my favorite book, by an author I usually love. It was good. I finished it, but I expected GREAT. Because. Reader expectation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Anyhow. I could go on and on about books and thoughts but my upstairs is calling to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">“Janet. Janet. Come
and clean me.” </span><br />
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Damn you upstairs. I must go. </span></div>
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-16805986597051325912016-04-03T09:44:00.001-06:002016-04-07T13:06:19.279-06:00From Flab to Fab... Walking to Runing to Making Healthier Choices.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYcpIz8oKaABhxeG7sB3mziSfcFMTKqJNR37jLHHh1-ojj_SZIoPlNhyphenhyphenN9AgKA_I_Qvnz7UQvDrIAxsLmuLUwek7eVPBAteeRUd-8ttBiByJpP4mArbRRciGF-4gGewNvDDjaS-KQRwgi/s1600/20160330_163335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Hello Bloggity Blog.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYcpIz8oKaABhxeG7sB3mziSfcFMTKqJNR37jLHHh1-ojj_SZIoPlNhyphenhyphenN9AgKA_I_Qvnz7UQvDrIAxsLmuLUwek7eVPBAteeRUd-8ttBiByJpP4mArbRRciGF-4gGewNvDDjaS-KQRwgi/s1600/20160330_163335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
So much new. So much the same. That is the journey of life. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYcpIz8oKaABhxeG7sB3mziSfcFMTKqJNR37jLHHh1-ojj_SZIoPlNhyphenhyphenN9AgKA_I_Qvnz7UQvDrIAxsLmuLUwek7eVPBAteeRUd-8ttBiByJpP4mArbRRciGF-4gGewNvDDjaS-KQRwgi/s1600/20160330_163335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYcpIz8oKaABhxeG7sB3mziSfcFMTKqJNR37jLHHh1-ojj_SZIoPlNhyphenhyphenN9AgKA_I_Qvnz7UQvDrIAxsLmuLUwek7eVPBAteeRUd-8ttBiByJpP4mArbRRciGF-4gGewNvDDjaS-KQRwgi/s200/20160330_163335.jpg" width="112" /></a><br />
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<br />
So. I was on holidays all last week and spent time in beautiful BC with my family and some friends. It's a treat to spend time with The Boy now as he is deeply entrenched in his Teenage years and doing what he must do. ie- preparing to spread his wings in preparation for flight. He's not going anywhere yet, but as most teens, he prefers the company of his own species most of the time, so it was nice to steal some time for ourselves (my husband and I).<br />
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<br />
Now I'm home and back to life and have decided it's time to try to make some healthy changes. On Friday, I went for my first walk/run in a long (long)time. I've decided to give the running thing a go. Again. My goal. A 10 km run. I've never managed a 10km. I mastered the 5km a few years back, even managed a sprint triathlon one year, but in the past few years I've been a sluggish Janet instead. Now it's time to fix that. From Flab to Fab? Fab at Fifty, of course. Which looks much different, I suppose. I'm trying to focus on health vs looks. This is a quest to feel better. In my skin and in my head. <br />
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Tomorrow I'm back to work and the business and busy-ness of life. Board meetings, golf committee planning, course selection meeting for high school next year for and with The Boy. Book writing and book signing and of course, the Day Job. <br />
<br />
But fitting in the Flab to Fab plan too. 4 walk/runs this week to build the running platform and 2 yoga's for my mind and soul. Doable? Yes. <br />
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My Mantra for the week- Happiness is a HABIT I will develop. I will work to chose happiness whenever I can- all week long! <br />
<br />
Let's do this thing. Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-39808452185412265942015-12-25T06:55:00.001-07:002015-12-25T06:57:38.396-07:00Merry Christmas!!I'm up early and the house is quiet! I guess that's what happens when you only have one child and he's a teenager now!<br />
<br />
Hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas day today, no matter what your faith! To me, Christmas is about family and reflecting. Kind of like New Year's but with nice decorations, lots of food and gifts. <br />
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Looking forward to a new year. Also a nap later today. Did I mention I got up too early. <br />
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All the best from my home to yours!!!<br />
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Merry Christmas 2015!!<br />
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<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-7489336054553883142015-12-12T08:51:00.001-07:002015-12-12T08:53:54.750-07:00Limited Time! IF I TELL ebook on sale!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMSfTChZYw0RPYI4GkHW05At5sRR9ygBuitMW8gnoFtygWG0dnDydCWUT-HjzwlyC61rlmtJt2Bb284b3C3lK0SO325y_6uOZEvbAYrgHJB26XOcu0qBek6Oj8HxJb0Cg6eMyXPuXWuyy/s1600/If+I+Tell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMSfTChZYw0RPYI4GkHW05At5sRR9ygBuitMW8gnoFtygWG0dnDydCWUT-HjzwlyC61rlmtJt2Bb284b3C3lK0SO325y_6uOZEvbAYrgHJB26XOcu0qBek6Oj8HxJb0Cg6eMyXPuXWuyy/s400/If+I+Tell.jpg" width="266" /></a>Looking for a book to read on your e-reader? If I Tell is only $2.99 for the next few days!<br />
<br />
Jaz is a bi-racial teen forced to keep a secret from her mom. A secret that could ruin her mom's life, but is also threatening to ruin Jaz's!<br />
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RT books said "Gurtler handles complex issues of race, identity, friendship and fidelity with laugh-out-loud humor and engaging frankness...once you're in you won't regret it..." - RT Book Reviews <br />
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<br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-12737181292815614462015-12-10T07:01:00.002-07:002015-12-10T07:03:14.024-07:00What?Hello Blog.<br />
I have been a bad blogger this year. <br />
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It has been a year all right. A big fat milestone birthday. Loss of my big brother. A new job. <br />
No new YA book contract...but a new YA finally brewing...<br />
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Lots of dips and ebbs. At the end of the day, I'm happy to still be here. I have an amazing teenage son, who doesn't often want to be seen with me in public and thinks almost everything I do is embarrassing. How awesome is that! Seriously. He's a good kid who works hard at swimming and school and who is also doing what he's supposed to be doing. Finding himself, identifying with his peer group and figuring shit out on his own. In other words, he's a teen. But a good one and I love him more than I could ever put down in words. That much is true. <br />
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Because it's been a year of change and flux, my writing has often been pushed into the background. But lately my groove is coming back and I'm getting to it again. I don't have the luxury of writing full time, but early mornings and weekends often provide writing time. I'm learning as I go. <br />
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The year has flown by. It really does speed up every single year. I can't say it was my favorite year ever, but it still had glimpses of good and potential for change. Ending it on a positive note seems like the best way to say good bye to 2015. <br />
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This weekend teenage son is off a swim meet, and I plan to write. I have a synopsis for a new YA to complete, some polishing of an old YA to complete, and I plan to go and see the final Mockingjay movie. Plus the usual glamorous job of cleaning house. <br />
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Happy to still be here. Trying to make it all count....<br />
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Hope you are too! Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-48258816286594799032015-07-20T16:12:00.001-06:002015-07-20T16:12:51.539-06:00Hello Turkey!So cooled out to learn that four of my books sold foreign rights to Turkey! <br />
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I'm Not Her<br />
How I Lost You<br />
#16 Things I Thought Were True and <br />
The Truth About Us! <br />
<br />
Thanks Turkey!!<br />
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-60498300456601589932015-07-14T20:58:00.001-06:002015-07-14T20:58:10.906-06:00Being Ian<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZaESqKDH2ZCEjjcYnDHqCqpnq7TCqfyPOWDT9cSpEVDjpvT7r0dC_1AsOlMRow4oJtXkbV02i3udYVyeCj6bGGJ3pkrjzkr6mm6m78AOc8y9oFetkH7vYGLBquVWoOJGHc5qQHuuFs5J/s1600/Ian+the+guy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZaESqKDH2ZCEjjcYnDHqCqpnq7TCqfyPOWDT9cSpEVDjpvT7r0dC_1AsOlMRow4oJtXkbV02i3udYVyeCj6bGGJ3pkrjzkr6mm6m78AOc8y9oFetkH7vYGLBquVWoOJGHc5qQHuuFs5J/s400/Ian+the+guy.jpg" width="300" /></a>I went quiet for awhile on social media over the last couple of months, and the truth is, it's because of a sad and tough thing. <br />
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In May I lost my big brother, Ian. A couple of weeks after I started a new full time job. Bad timing for everything. Bad bad timing. Could there possibly have been a good time? Of course not. No. But it should have been later. Much much later.<br />
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Ian was only 11 months older than me, we lived in different cities, different provinces, thousands of miles apart. But I always knew he was THERE. Living his life. Being Ian. I felt his presence as I feel my distant family's presence every day and in many ways. <br />
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He was sick in his last year. But I kind of didn't want to admit how sick. And I don't think he did either. In October he moved from his hometown, Vancouver BC and went to Winnipeg, where he'd finished his law degree many years ago, and where my big sister and her family and my parents live. He meant to take his Masters in Law in Winnipeg, and he wanted to travel. He got accepted into the Masters program and that made him happy. But he was getting sicker.<br />
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He got worse. And still, I didn't know quite how bad things were from my safe distance. And then in May I got a call. Come home. Ian is in the hospital. My younger brother in Ottawa and I both flew out the next morning.<br />
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After that things went pretty blurry. He was indeed very very sick. I arrived in time to see him in the hospital while he was still lucid. He still wanted a shot at getting better, but things looked so terribly grim. <br />
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I got a chance to say some things I wanted to say, but he slipped quickly and I didn't get a chance to say them all. His hospital stay was horrific, and it made my family furious and sad. But I got to see him and talk to him, and for that, I am very very grateful. Over a long few days, he slipped into a coma. I had to fly home, return to work and then a few days later I got a text from my mom. Call me, she wrote. And of course. I knew. <br />
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It wasn't a pleasant death for my brother. He fought valiantly, and he fought hard, but his body was working against him. I don't think he went very willingly. He was stubborn and he had things he wanted to do. Travel. Get that Master's degree. <br />
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Live.<br />
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I miss him. I miss him being in the world. I didn't see him often enough, but I always knew he was there. Out there. Being Ian. <br />
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Brilliant. Funny. Curious. Weird. Eccentric. Full of life and piss and vinegar. Bouncing though life like Tigger, I often called him Eeyore. Because. Ian.<br />
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He was my brother. We loved each other as brother and sister's do, and we knew each of us was out there. Doing our thing. If things were going well for him, I cheered for him on the sidelines, when things were rough for him, my heart ached. And I knew he did the same for me.<br />
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He lived for 50 years. It was a life. But not long enough. He loved. He had girlfriends, a wife. That didn't last but I truly thought his true happiness was around the corner. I was waiting for him to find what or who he deserved.<br />
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He touched people. So. Many. People. After he was gone, so many came forward and told my family what he had meant to them. And I know he would have been surprised. At the impressions he made and the way he made people feel. He was unassuming and modest. And he was just being Ian.<br />
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After his death, my sister discovered that he kept everything that people ever sent him. Letters. Cards. Notes. Tickets to special events. He kept them all. And my sister returned them. Little gifts for many people in his life, a look back at times and memories frozen long ago. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip-c6HGKTJxiQZ3gHDNpeuafWlWnBqRNuk9X_CMQKR3QMjSU9A4pLfp2hyphenhyphencdaYwyb9nOHmdjNOZO4e8K1bH58nPxPICjcITcweS0EMOWT-TNeiwxPrurExCqcF2FvdEofjpbs5yGPGoHJ/s1600/Ian+MacLeod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhip-c6HGKTJxiQZ3gHDNpeuafWlWnBqRNuk9X_CMQKR3QMjSU9A4pLfp2hyphenhyphencdaYwyb9nOHmdjNOZO4e8K1bH58nPxPICjcITcweS0EMOWT-TNeiwxPrurExCqcF2FvdEofjpbs5yGPGoHJ/s320/Ian+MacLeod.jpg" width="320" /></a>He was many things. He had many talents. And GOD he could write. Brilliant. Scathing. Hilarious. I think that was on his list. No, it was on his list. Writing. And there are pieces of it out there. Pieces of him he's left behind. Words. Impressions. Feelings. And many many other gifts he gave, without even knowing he gave them. Over the last months, I've laughed and I've cried and I've been shocked by his absence. It has put many things into perspective and I've even seen sides of him I didn't get to see when he was living. I miss him. <br />
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Uncle. Friend. Cousin. Son. Brother. Boyfriend. Grandson. Co-worker. Mentor. Lawyer. Manager. Team mate. Ex. <br />
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Ian. Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-8789681909639491022015-04-15T06:25:00.001-06:002015-04-15T06:28:37.665-06:0016 Things I Learned from Mexcio<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU9Jdvniwp7EtIyYn2ffj08lO62Uj7pHmDJ1xpBRG2cOdKb_VE_umlMufQmv0NzvScdmXvV5i0gKZ2JHXYZIhZaTpCMsEFPNesspO-2ExgC6V89QGfV7bq3kJGt70n0UdXCqFvZINXJ-X/s1600/shells.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCU9Jdvniwp7EtIyYn2ffj08lO62Uj7pHmDJ1xpBRG2cOdKb_VE_umlMufQmv0NzvScdmXvV5i0gKZ2JHXYZIhZaTpCMsEFPNesspO-2ExgC6V89QGfV7bq3kJGt70n0UdXCqFvZINXJ-X/s1600/shells.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><br />
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1. Spanish is a beautiful language even if you don't understand what people are saying<br />
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2. Humidity makes it really hard to dry your clothes on a hanger overnight.<br />
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3. Feeling soft sand between your toes is better than a dish of ice cream.<br />
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4. Finding and collecting shells is fun no matter how old you are.<br />
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5. People who are playing in the waves of the ocean laugh a lot. It's hard to be in a bad mood when you're playing in the ocean.<br />
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6. It's hard to walk on the shore of the beach for very long.<br />
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7. I will sit through a time share sales pitch to get a good deal on a couple of excursions.<br />
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8. I will not buy a time share no matter how may sales people you make me sit in a room with.<br />
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9. Spotting fish and sea creatures is almost as much fun as playing in the waves.<br />
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10. People take a lot of selfies on the beach.<br />
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11. Bodies come in many shapes and sizes. When everyone is wearing one, no one really cares how you look in your bathing suit. <br />
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12. Buffets get old pretty quickly. <br />
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13. Sunscreen really does work.<br />
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14. If you break it, you really do buy it. <br />
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15. Bartering is something that not everyone is good at.<br />
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16. In the end, there's no place like home. Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-36729780453904549802015-04-11T19:06:00.001-06:002015-04-11T19:06:08.721-06:00The Truth About Us Winner and Reviews!Hello hello. I am back from Mexico.<br />
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Wow. That's almost like a poem. Right?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJ1Nqney4V7kSHkkmTEtTujHrxALYOWOc5gJ68rtk0eZkasQtLbE48Uajb1J1vN9ZXcG8KXm47gp6LOy5SOGe6bcZILNnAoe4Iex4jZ7eCJlVSOzKGvfOGvo4mMH7MXe7ukqoytAiwKtq/s1600/A+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghJ1Nqney4V7kSHkkmTEtTujHrxALYOWOc5gJ68rtk0eZkasQtLbE48Uajb1J1vN9ZXcG8KXm47gp6LOy5SOGe6bcZILNnAoe4Iex4jZ7eCJlVSOzKGvfOGvo4mMH7MXe7ukqoytAiwKtq/s1600/A+cover.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><br />
SO...I put the numbers into random number generator for the YASH extra draw for my blog and the number was 68, so GRACIE was the winner. I have replied and hope to be sending off her prize soon.<br />
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In other news....The Truth About Us is officially on the shelves and available for order online. I hope that you can pick up a copy for your YA contemporary collection. Or ask for it at your local library. <br />
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And hey, if you read it and you like it, give it a good review on the bookstore website. Or like a good review on Goodreads. These are easy things to do to help a book's shelf life and keep authors writing more books!!<br />
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I'm super excited that reviews in from professional reviewers are great so far! Here's a sample!<br />
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"Touching on all kinds of topics, from homelessness, absent parents, and girls and boys clamoring for attention for all the wrong reasons to the ever-present theme of the haves-vs.-the have nots, The Truth About Us shows many different truths and calls readers to examine themselves, as well as root for Jess and Flynn." - <strong><em>VOYA Magazine</em></strong><br />
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"Gurtler has created a thought-provoking YA about class divides and prejudices and how appearances can be far from the truth. Readers will easily empathize with the main characters, while some of the secondary cast <br />
have compelling stories of their own. " - <strong id="yui_3_8_1_1_1428800295126_1041"><em id="yui_3_8_1_1_1428800295126_1040">RT Book Reviews, 4 1/2 Stars</em></strong><br />
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"Flynn comes from a different economic class, and as the couple learns to overcome the challenges that are brought about by the gap in their relative statuses, Jess becomes a more developed and well-rounded character. Other subplots, such as her family recovering from an accident, add depth. This title will pair well with Simon Elkeles's Perfect Chemistry (Walker, 2008), another story dealing with building strong emotional relationships with people who come from vastly different backgrounds. VERDICT A tender, layered romance.—<strong><em>School Library Journal</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>Thanks for entering the YASH and my own contest and let me know if you spot THE TRUTH ABOUT US out in the wild!!!</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>Best!</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>Janet</em></strong>Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-18999395652458318282015-04-02T05:00:00.000-06:002015-04-02T15:29:57.474-06:00YA SCAVENGER HUNT!!<span style="color: cyan; font-size: large;"><strong></strong></span><br />
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<strong>HELLO AND WELCOME to the Spring 2015 YA Scavenger Hunt!</strong> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhcsRXiAUnh2dnNpdgnA4OvYckdSxZmTndxV4wNBOr3HxKRUgWsNFMuTkuECECiB5o72gdjvAjleHLSvmsZKkIgZhwBwvC-NFHiaJyZAVWlFF7WSOaML2Mv1KNNXVjolamu8VpK8xOIWvw/s1600/YASH-circle-background-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhcsRXiAUnh2dnNpdgnA4OvYckdSxZmTndxV4wNBOr3HxKRUgWsNFMuTkuECECiB5o72gdjvAjleHLSvmsZKkIgZhwBwvC-NFHiaJyZAVWlFF7WSOaML2Mv1KNNXVjolamu8VpK8xOIWvw/s1600/YASH-circle-background-2.jpg" height="200" width="186" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVou8HImZtch-BCT8BAjPvR6ZjnYS0HGO8G2X7A0bEfdNX6RAJSkAQTeTkjaJqxAF5K71MORUdF03eg1l-nurf_PWqWcaGrKJ9QWljeTUMdoWzx2pvBmcAQuNcAlH7VDYkZwGhGy-XXZis/s1600/Team+Teal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVou8HImZtch-BCT8BAjPvR6ZjnYS0HGO8G2X7A0bEfdNX6RAJSkAQTeTkjaJqxAF5K71MORUdF03eg1l-nurf_PWqWcaGrKJ9QWljeTUMdoWzx2pvBmcAQuNcAlH7VDYkZwGhGy-XXZis/s1600/Team+Teal.jpg" height="286" width="320" /></a>Add up clues, and enter for our prize--one lucky winner will receive <b>one signed book from each author on the hunt in my team</b>!<b> </b>But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!<br />
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<b>Go to the <a href="http://yascavengerhunt.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: #2288bb;">YA Scavenger Hunt</span></a> page to find out all about the hunt. </b>There are SIX contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the <span style="color: cyan; font-size: large;"><strong>TEAL TEAM</strong></span>--but there is also a red team, a gold team, an orange team, a blue team, and an indie team for a chance to win a whole different set of signed books!</div>
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<b>SCAVENGER HUNT PUZZLE</b></div>
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<b>Directions:</b> Below, you'll notice that I've listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the <span style="color: cyan;">teal team</span>, and then add them up (don't worry, you can use a calculator!). </div>
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<b></b><br />
<b>Entry Form:</b> Once you've added up all the numbers, <a href="http://yascavengerhunt.blogspot.com/p/enter-here.html"><span style="color: #2288bb;">make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize</span></a>. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.</div>
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<b></b><br /></div>
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<b>SCAVENGER HUNT POST</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;"></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySZQiipM0WpJ7FyMe4HYmS2yhio0N90M9YjuDr6KiVItFN6k2HZwWf9jFi_OPBpfIPwqonKeD9AidyPaCqe2vpxsslC7pC8aqH4tmzLUa4khJmf_ucMaIYiih8y8kQ4ngn7YQ96zw7SO0/s1600/AmeliaAuthorPhoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgySZQiipM0WpJ7FyMe4HYmS2yhio0N90M9YjuDr6KiVItFN6k2HZwWf9jFi_OPBpfIPwqonKeD9AidyPaCqe2vpxsslC7pC8aqH4tmzLUa4khJmf_ucMaIYiih8y8kQ4ngn7YQ96zw7SO0/s1600/AmeliaAuthorPhoto.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>I am lucky enough to be hosting<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-CA; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Amel</strong><strong>ia Kahaney</strong></span> </span><br />
on my website!<br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">Amelia Kahaney grew up an easily sunburnt child in San Diego, CA and Hilo, HI. At age 12, self-exiled from surf camp due to lack of coordination, Amelia sought refuge in her local library and spent the rest of her summer filling up yellow legal pads with her first attempts at fiction. After graduating from UC Santa Cruz with a degree in English, she lived in Portland, Oregon and Quetzaltenango, Guatemala before landing in New York City, where she worked a hundred jobs and lived in a dozen apartments before studying fiction writing at Brooklyn College. Amelia's short stories have appeared in <em>Best American Nonrequired Reading</em>, <em>One Story</em>,<em> Crazyhorse</em>, and other literary magazines. <em>The Brokenhearted</em>, her novel for teens, was published by HarperTeen in 2013 and is now being translated into French, Turkish, Korean and Japanese. It has also been optioned for film by New Line. The book's sequel, <em>The Invisible</em>, will be published in October. Amelia lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and son.</span><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">The Brokenhearted Series: THE INVISIBLE </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaG3tze7oms7JSw1iEgHGmGHMrEkbgTiSAS4LfZIqf-drtVgwGRe3uvt9Qol12K6d7mMQA4GmTcqsJwcnm-eF-qrLQKREy8Ih8l_9Qk6LjpiQeO-_kr4TyRmiI0Zx2Yyvz-OHYVStPSiCu/s1600/an+invisible.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaG3tze7oms7JSw1iEgHGmGHMrEkbgTiSAS4LfZIqf-drtVgwGRe3uvt9Qol12K6d7mMQA4GmTcqsJwcnm-eF-qrLQKREy8Ih8l_9Qk6LjpiQeO-_kr4TyRmiI0Zx2Yyvz-OHYVStPSiCu/s1600/an+invisible.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></div>
<span style="color: blue;"><span id="freeText9269570372988327440"><span style="color: black;"><strong>In the riveting sequel to the reimagined superhero story The Brokenhearted, Anthem Fleet takes on a powerful new villain and makes some startling discoveries about her family and her past that will forever change her.</strong><br /><br />Taking up where The Brokenhearted ended, the sequel finds Anthem Fleet attempting to return to a normal life after an experimental surgery that left her with a bionic hummingbird heart and a terrifying new strength. But she can’t shake her suspicions about her father’s connection to the Syndicate and she can’t ignore the cries of help in the crime-ridden city of Bedlam. She finds new promise in her relationship with Ford, but after his lifesaving surgery, the Ford Anthem knew slips away. <br /><br />When a mysterious new group called “The Invisible” starts attacking the privileged North Siders, Anthem has to step up and be the New Hope that Bedlam needs, or Bedlam will fall…once and for all. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780062231925">Buy the Book Here!</a></span></div>
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<b></b><br />
<b>EXCLUSIVE CONTENT</b></div>
<span style="color: magenta;"><br />
</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">How Rose Broke Bad: A Brokenhearted
Prequel<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<div style="-ms-text-justify: inter-ideograph; line-height: 13.5pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">Author’s
note: </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">This is an ode to THE BROKENHEARTED's sultriest villain, a woman
named Rosie. I had so much fun writing her that I wanted to pick up her story
at an earlier point in her messed-up life, specifically the moment where she
leaves her conscience behind and takes a step toward who she will later become.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">You don’t need to have read THE
BROKENHEARTED to enjoy the story, but if you like what you read, </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780062230928"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><span style="color: blue;">check out the book</span></span></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">
and its </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780062231925"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><span style="color: blue;">sequel, THE INVISIBLE</span></span></a></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">,
for more mayhem and madness in Bedlam City. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">***<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The date
they’d picked for her robbery was Rose’s fourteenth birthday, but she kept this
to herself as she trudged across the Bridge of Brotherhood with two Syndicate
boys she’d just met and her cousin Yvette, four years older and Rose’s last
remaining family member. With her father dead, Rose’s birthday only hurt. And
if she said something, Yvette might try to make a big deal of it, which would
be horrible. Or she might do nothing at all, which would be even worse. It was
better not to take the risk.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Stop
brooding,” Yvette muttered, bumping shoulders with Rose as they skirted a
police checkpoint on the north end of the bridge. “It’ll be easy. I’ll be right
there the whole time.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose nodded
and tried not to be terrified. Yvette had gone to the Syndicate at sixteen and
was an old hand at it now, cocky and sure of herself, her hair dyed a lurid
orange and styled always in two low, tight knots at the back of her head,
proudly displaying a SYN tattoo at the nape of her neck.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> It was
Yvette that came to get Rose after her father died, sticking her head inside
the moldy living room and calling her name just after Rose had opened the last
can of beans left from her father’s store downstairs, looters having run off
with most everything else. The damp from the flood had worked its way deep into
Rose’s lungs by then, and her cough was bad enough to shake her awake at night.
So when the cousin she hadn’t seen in years ordered her to pack a bag, Rose
did. By then, she was too beaten down to do anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “This way,”
one of the boys grunted. The foursome turned on Hemlock and headed west along
the Midland River. Rose’s face prickled in the October air and she tried to make
her mind go blank and hard like she imagined the Syndicate pros did, to prepare
somehow for what she was expected to do.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The shop was
sweet and tidy, situated at one end of a quiet, curving street in the kind of
nice neighborhood that didn’t exist anymore south of the river. It had a red
awning that said GREENGROCER and was the kind of place Rose’s father, Brill,
would have admired. He often talked about moving north as soon as business
picked up in the little store attached to their tumbledown house in the
Lowlands, a place now so empty and decrepit after the floods and riots that
people had started calling it the Deadlands.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “You sure
this is it?” Rose stalled. The shop was a small business, not a giant Megamart
like Yvette had told her to expect. Her confidence that she could do this had
never been high, but standing in front of the place, she was suddenly certain
she couldn’t go through with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The two
boys, meant to act as witnesses and lookouts, both nodded. One of them—Rose
thought his name might be Ray, or was it Jay?—spat on the sidewalk. The other
one stifled a yawn.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Moe
changed it this morning,” Yvette shrugged, referring to the pimply kid in
charge of new recruits back at the squat. When he’d handed out Rose’s
assignment, she’d stared at the floor. This was her go-to stance since moving
to the squat in the old mall a month before.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Look at the floor and nobody will notice
how scared you are. Look at the floor and nobody will hurt you. Look at the
floor and it’s almost like you’re not really here at all.</span></em><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Too
many guards at the big stores now,” Ray/Jay cut in. Bedlam City had been
plagued by food and medicine shortages after the floods, and the larger chain
stores had begun to hire barely-trained guards with Uzis to act as guards. The
smaller shops couldn’t pay for such luxuries.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose peeked
through the immaculately clean shop window at the woman behind the counter. Her
greying hair was tucked under a kerchief, her veined hands busy snapping beans
and putting them into plastic bags. The woman looked as if she worked night and
day to keep the produce nicely stacked, to dust the small packets of medicine
and toiletries kept behind the counter, to place with care the loaves of bread,
the lettuces, the boxes of cookies. Everything was arranged in a soothing
order. Rose had been raised by Brill to appreciate the sanctity of items on
shelves, the near-holiness of a clean shop, the rightness of exchanging money
for goods.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> She shot a pleading look at Yvette.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">There’s
no way I can do this,</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>the
look said.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> As if
understanding her, Yvette grabbed her hand, jerked her toward the entrance.
“Just like we talked about. Use your blade. They won’t hurt you. It looks bad,
killing a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Easiest assignment ever,”
one of the boys muttered. “You’re so lucky.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose
snorted. She used to think of herself as lucky. She was a South Side girl with
stability, which was rare. She had a dad, and he had an income. But the floods
got rid of the income and the riots had gotten rid of her dad. She wasn’t lucky
anymore. Her mind flashed on the day the flood hit their house, she and Brill
bailing out the freezing water from the store, two of her stuffed animals she
hadn’t seen in years floating incongruously in the scummy green water,
knee-high, then waist-high, sloshing all the way past the counter. She still
smelled mold in her clothes, in her hair. Still heard Brill’s hacking cough in
the weeks following, while the neighborhood emptied out and he insisted they
stay and try to fix the store. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> They stayed
through the food shortages, through their neighbors—their customers—fleeing the
neighborhood by the truckload. But still, Rose remained lucky. Until the riots,
Rose had been a lucky girl indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose moved from the window to the
doorway of the store, Yvette at her side.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Get your blade ready,” Yvette
hissed in her ear, moving behind her toward the shop. “And stop thinking about
Brill.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose
clutched the blade in her pocket and walked in, her eyes glued to the old
woman, who was beautiful, who had made the store beautiful. Brill would have
appreciated the seamless way the produce led to the dry goods, the abundance of
produce piled neatly in the straw baskets.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> But Rose
wasn’t here to admire the shop. Her job was to get the contents of the
register. If she did it, she was in. The Syndicate would make sure she was
taken care of, fed, and trained. There was a clear trajectory to it, Yvette had
explained. You started as a runner and moved up from there, always paid enough
so you could eat, always given opportunities to earn more. And most
importantly, once she joined, Yvette emphasized, she would always have what
Yvette called “a family.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> This was
what Rose needed most of all. After Brill died, she’d stayed on, alone in their
moldering house with no electricity, no phone, eating from cans, petrified and
lost. She might still be sitting in rotting living room right now if Yvette
hadn’t come to take her away.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose moved
closer to the register where the woman sat, her heart thudding, the blade
sweaty in her palm. Rows upon rows of chewing gum and candies lined the shelf
in front of the counter, Rose’s vision blurred with panic so that the colors of
the packages bled together.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">A store should be orderly, like the way
we want the world to be,</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>her
father often said. That’s how this store was. Orderly, maintained with love.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Can I help
you?” the woman asked. There was kindness in her voice, the question itself
something Rose had been trained to say from age seven, when she was first
allowed to mind the store if Brill had to do inventory in the back.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose began
to shake. This wasn’t her at all. She thought about turning around and leaving,
sailing out into the October afternoon. It wasn’t too late to be a good person.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> But then a
young man in the back looked up from the frozen foods he was cataloging. His
eyes narrowed with suspicion as he assessed the girls. “You all want
something?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><em><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> I’m a good
person</span></em><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">, Rose thought, perversely indignant though she had no right to
be. After all, she was here to rob him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I’m a shopkeeper’s daughter.</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>But how was he supposed to know
that?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Say it,” Yvette ordered her, teeth
clenched in a tight smile. “Go to the counter and do it. Has to be you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The woman’s
eyes traveled from Rose’s face to her worn shirt with its ragged collar, her
sweater coated in a thin layer of grime. The marks of poverty were on her now,
Rose realized. The woman had something in her hand below the counter. She might
already be pushing buttons on a phone, summoning the police. And this was how
it would be forever now for Rose, a torrent of realizations clicking together
now. She was poor, from the flooded side of town, the stench of mold impossible
to get out of her clothes, off her skin. It didn’t matter whose daughter she
was, because her father was dead. She was a nobody who had nothing. And even
though it wasn’t fair, even thought she’d been a good daughter, had done
everything right, nothing would change these facts. The house in the Lowlands
was worth nothing now, after the floods. She’d used up what money she could
scrape together on Brill’s burial. There were only two options for her
survival--the Syndicate or the South Side Home for Orphaned Youth, rumored to
keep kids locked in with an electric fence. There was no way Rose was going
there. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The man
moved closer to them, a heavy glass bottle in one of his hands, a broom handle
clutched in the other.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Drop the
phone,” Rose blurted out, shocked that she’d actually said it. She moved toward
the woman with her blade out, waving it, jabbing it wildly over the counter.
“Open the register.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> And then it
was like Yvette told her it would be. The woman nodded and swallowed, placing
her phone on the counter and pushing the NO SALE button Rose had pushed a
million times herself to get to the till. Yvette threw a canvas duffel bag onto
the counter as the man ran toward them, the bottle raised in his fist.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Gonna have
to do better than that,” Rose heard Yvette say behind her. Then there was the
distinct click of a gun being cocked.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Fill it,”
Rose barked, not recognizing her own voice, not daring to turn around and see
Yvette’s gun, terrified it would go off. The woman’s beautiful hands gathered
up the bag, moving far too slowly. “Faster!”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> To her right, Rose saw the
man back up a step, his nostrils flared with fury.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “They’ll be
here any second,” he growled. “Best leave now before it escalates.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose
understood this to mean<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">leave before the cops kill you.</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Wasn’t that exactly what happened to
her father, who’d only gone downstairs to lock up the store when the mob of
angry South Siders filled the street? Who, encountering Uzis aimed at innocent
people, had tried to reason with helmeted riot police and wound up paying for
that mistake with his life?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose had
watched from the window, ordered by Brill to stay inside.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> She’d
screamed at him to back away, but Brill thought he could reason with the
police. Because her father believed in the law above all else, and that
unshakeable belief brought a cop’s metal baton down upon her father’s tender
head with the hideous, indelible sound of a watermelon dropping from the back
of a truck.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Yvette’s reply came just as the
sound of distant sirens reached them. “We’ll be gone before they get here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Zip it up,”
Rose yelled at the woman, seeing only her father’s open eyes staring up at her
from the street. The sirens penetrated her senses enough so that she took the
bag and slung it over her shoulder, backing out of the store with the blade in
front of her, Yvette at her side.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Outside the shop, the two boys
perked up, no longer bored. “Nice and clean,” they grinned.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “You did
good,” Yvette said, slapping Rose on the back and sticking the gun back in her
jacket pocket. “Now we run.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Legs
pumping, lungs on fire, Rose ran<em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">.</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>A few blocks away, a white van
idled,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">SYN</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>spray-painted on the bumper. When they
piled in, Rose realized she was smiling. For the first time in a while, she
felt something other than dread.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;">"Told you
you’d like it,” Yvette said once they were in the van.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> Rose wasn’t sure if she liked
it, but suddenly it didn’t matter. Because she’d won. She was protected now.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “You’ll get
good at it, take to it like a duck takes to water,” Yvette had promised her a
week ago. Rose blushed, hearing this.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Yeah right</span></em>, she’d thought.
But now, speeding over the flooded river back toward the ruined half of the
city she was unlucky enough to call home, Rose believed that she might.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> The date Moe
had chosen at random was perfect, she saw. Because her life would forever
cleave at the moment in the little shop when she stopped being Brill’s
grieving, helpless daughter and started to become someone else entirely.
Someone brave and mean and strong.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"> “Want
to hear something funny?” Rose clutched the bag of cash and leaned toward
Yvette, who nodded in the back of the van. “Today’s my birthday.”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">**</span></span></div>
<span style="color: magenta;">
</span>Awesome! Now don't forget to enter the contest for a chance to win a ton of signed books by me, <span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Amel</strong><strong>ia Kahaney</strong></span>, and more! To enter, you need to know that my favorite number is <span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: cyan; font-size: x-large;"><strong>5</strong></span>.</span> Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on the <span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: cyan;"><strong>teal team</strong></span> </span>and you'll have all the secret code to enter for the grand prize!<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>CONTINUE THE HUNT</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author! <span style="color: magenta;"><a href="https://writingonthesidewalk.wordpress.com/">SARAH STOMP</a></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">BONUS BONUS BONUS.</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">Leave a comment on this blog and I'll make a random number draw for a signed THE TRUTH ABOUT US and a BRAVE MONKEY keychain!!</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"></span><br />
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com107tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-27378827281911503092015-04-01T07:22:00.002-06:002015-04-01T07:26:44.769-06:00When Your Character Does something the reader doesn't like...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On Flynn’s BAD
CHOICE in THE TRUTH ABOUT US.<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the interesting (sometimes scary) things about being an author is
seeing how people react so differently to the same book -the same work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So full disclosure, yes, I do see
reviews. The bad and the good. Sometimes with the bad my feelings are hurt.
Sometimes I want to explain myself. Sometimes a bad review hits hard because
there’s grains of truth in it. And sometimes I have to shrug and know that
people come to stories with their own likes, dislikes prejudices etc. and
there’s nothing wrong with their personal reaction to something I’ve written. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I do classroom presentations to students I show them
different reactions to the same book. For example, these are all pulled quotes
from THE TRUTH ABOUT US.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #0070c0;">“<span class="readable">This book
is wonderful and is guaranteed to make you smile at least 10<span style="color: blue;"> </span></span></span><span class="readable"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">times</span> and</span><span style="color: #0070c0;"> probably make you cry at least twice. Highly
recommended.” </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">(Hurray!
I’m not a hack. I make readers smile!)</span><span style="color: #0070c0;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: red;">“Thankfully
I'll be burning this one from my memory pretty quickly.” </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">(Damn I suck. I knew I should have
stuck to sales)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #0070c0;">“Very
gripping and well written. Loved the characters.” </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">(Wow! I can write after all!)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Pretty much
everything was lacking in this book: the storyline was cliché and the writing
was weak” <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(Man. I wonder if Starbucks is hiring) <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: #0070c0;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What could
be a trite tale, in Gurtler's capable hands becomes a wholly believable,
sensitive story sure to please fans of contemporary YA.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ll stop at a good review, because EGO but trust, there’s always going
to be another indifferent or bad one after a review that makes my heart sing!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyhow, it’s interesting to watch the reaction of the kids when I share
a bad and a good review back to back like this. The kids usually get really
defensive about the bad reviews and try to stick up for me. Mainly I think it’s
because I’m right there. I’m talking to them (hopefully) we’re connecting on
some level so I’m a real person and they want to defend my feelings. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I tell them my point is not to make them
feel sorry for me (but of course I appreciate their support and concern) but to
show them that story effects people in different ways and that’s okay. When you
put yourself out there, you have to take the good with the bad. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And sometimes as an author you make decisions that you kind of suspect
are going to be unpopular, but it’s the right choice for that character or that
storyline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure Veronica Roth and
Stephanie Myers could attest to this much better than I can for some of the unpopular
reactions to their final books in their series. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But this is about Flynn. And a little bit of explaining myself. </span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And this post is for people who have already read THE TRUTH ABOUT
US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you haven’t read it yet, you
might want to wait before you read the following. I’ve tried to be
non-spoilery…but just in case, you have been warned!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to explain that I understand why people are upset. Without
spoilers, Flynn <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>does something in this
book that makes some readers unhappy. I didn’t like what he did either but
here’s my take on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flynn is not a
perfect guy. I hope I kind of allude to that throughout the story. I love
Flynn. I see his good and his potential much like Tess does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tess is presented to the reader as very
flawed, but we get to see her positive changes as she grows in the story
because it’s told from her point of view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But in the end, Flynn does something that he KNOWS is wrong too. To me,
he’s acting much like Tess, he’s turning to self-destructive behavior to cope.
And it’s how he’s coped with life hardships in the past so it’s familiar. But
he knows it’s wrong. He’s not a bad person, he regresses and he makes a
mistake. And realizes he wants to change.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that’s kind of what I think the story is about. We all make
mistakes. Can we be forgiven for those?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s kind of what I hope the reader can think about when they hate
what Flynn does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do mistakes always make
us bad people, or do they make us good people who do bad things, and can these
mistakes be something we can learn, grow and change from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For some people the answer might be NO.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that’s okay. His behavior might be unforgiveable to them. And that’s
okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People come to stories and
situations with their own experience, beliefs and feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it’s something I didn’t do well enough
as an author to change their view, maybe it’s something else. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I’d like explain how it worked for ME.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I forgave Flynn. I understood why he did what
he did, and it was to hurt or punish himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Being caught made him realize that he was also hurting others. And he
cared enough to realize that he was being a jerk and that he cared enough to
try and work past it and to try and see if he could ask for forgiveness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And the reader gets to decide whether or not they can forgive him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I hope you can think about it a little
and understand it wasn’t thrown in there to disrespect girls or their trust. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess I do care enough about Flynn and Jess to know why you’re
mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I also know why he did what he
did. And to me there was a reason for it. And I believed that Jess was right to
forgive him, because she believed in him too. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And in my mind, he will be true to Jess from now on. ;)<o:p></o:p></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span class="readable"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></span></div>
Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-82916207582604009912015-03-25T17:40:00.002-06:002015-03-25T17:40:50.387-06:00Like Scavenger Hunts? YA Scavenger Hunt is ComingI'm on TEAMTEAL. More deets soon!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtY3Y7dO1kx8eJuDFjavjtohmQcChmgh5_qXzBFRKnb-CI2YSj4xKRlt7mf2hqUhrEsoriF7HOQyZONTLyzFieT1P3ZNOii-CUqykkjGQp098THGGWrTLm0V9HBLfGPcasxigxtA-J6C8/s1600/Team+Teal+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtY3Y7dO1kx8eJuDFjavjtohmQcChmgh5_qXzBFRKnb-CI2YSj4xKRlt7mf2hqUhrEsoriF7HOQyZONTLyzFieT1P3ZNOii-CUqykkjGQp098THGGWrTLm0V9HBLfGPcasxigxtA-J6C8/s1600/Team+Teal+(2).jpg" height="400" width="322" /></a></div>
Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-729602658179192122015-03-21T09:27:00.001-06:002015-03-21T09:33:52.431-06:00Less than 3 weeks until The Truth About Us!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYrVuwwLSVneKu81fPSLouGDGPDyw5WqOvKIA1Ga4ko3O2o15HHTOIpBIOCyifV3moLt2dQnqrstbyZ1vmOL-ZzQK1fkLKFeTyGcKq4ueEgO_wU-DcbokoHRPWtjqt2YbGUygLdQJ7EV3/s1600/Summer-Blog-Hop_graphic-1_PRINT.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYrVuwwLSVneKu81fPSLouGDGPDyw5WqOvKIA1Ga4ko3O2o15HHTOIpBIOCyifV3moLt2dQnqrstbyZ1vmOL-ZzQK1fkLKFeTyGcKq4ueEgO_wU-DcbokoHRPWtjqt2YbGUygLdQJ7EV3/s1600/Summer-Blog-Hop_graphic-1_PRINT.JPG" height="211" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYrVuwwLSVneKu81fPSLouGDGPDyw5WqOvKIA1Ga4ko3O2o15HHTOIpBIOCyifV3moLt2dQnqrstbyZ1vmOL-ZzQK1fkLKFeTyGcKq4ueEgO_wU-DcbokoHRPWtjqt2YbGUygLdQJ7EV3/s1600/Summer-Blog-Hop_graphic-1_PRINT.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYrVuwwLSVneKu81fPSLouGDGPDyw5WqOvKIA1Ga4ko3O2o15HHTOIpBIOCyifV3moLt2dQnqrstbyZ1vmOL-ZzQK1fkLKFeTyGcKq4ueEgO_wU-DcbokoHRPWtjqt2YbGUygLdQJ7EV3/s1600/Summer-Blog-Hop_graphic-1_PRINT.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYrVuwwLSVneKu81fPSLouGDGPDyw5WqOvKIA1Ga4ko3O2o15HHTOIpBIOCyifV3moLt2dQnqrstbyZ1vmOL-ZzQK1fkLKFeTyGcKq4ueEgO_wU-DcbokoHRPWtjqt2YbGUygLdQJ7EV3/s1600/Summer-Blog-Hop_graphic-1_PRINT.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
Official launch date for THE TRUTH ABOUT US is April 7 in U.S.A. and April 15 in Canada!<br />
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<span id="goog_1947434202"></span><span id="goog_1947434203"></span><br />Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-55165325049816032642015-03-06T08:13:00.001-07:002015-03-06T08:13:35.159-07:004 1/2 Stars for THE TRUTH ABOUT US!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTZQtYdUIyvae_Doq5sCbgH30K7tnVAUIFpKNzRUxz0ePDwAx1ANMrcIGnWMRt5jMQsIiPTPqDPYHVuYGJXyPLDRFO-PGTMZe-pTK7oTwPJWe2HR-TSto8PRscPex_hNUzRs55OqgR6a5/s1600/The+Truth+About+Us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTZQtYdUIyvae_Doq5sCbgH30K7tnVAUIFpKNzRUxz0ePDwAx1ANMrcIGnWMRt5jMQsIiPTPqDPYHVuYGJXyPLDRFO-PGTMZe-pTK7oTwPJWe2HR-TSto8PRscPex_hNUzRs55OqgR6a5/s1600/The+Truth+About+Us.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>Romantic Times reviewed THE TRUTH ABOUT US for their April issue and gave it a very healthy 41/2 stars out of 5! <br />
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I was super happy with the rating and also excited to be reviewed by the magazine as they've passed over my last couple of books. I'M NOT HER also received a 4 1/2 star rating and IF I TELL a 4 star rating. <br />
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It's just over a month until THE TRUTH ABOUT US officially releases - April 7, 2015!! <br />
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-25265641423562933332015-02-15T08:25:00.000-07:002015-02-15T08:39:01.536-07:00Living with Severe Nut Allergies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: red;">Today a lovely blogger reposted an old review for WHO I KISSED. It included a Guest Post I wrote about peanut and food allergies. I am going to repost it because I need the reminder sometimes. And maybe some other people might too....</span><br />
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<a href="http://gonewiththewords.com/2012/11/review-who-i-kissed-by-janet-gurtler-guest-post.html?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=evergreen_post_tweeter&utm_campaign=website">originally published here</a><br />
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Guest Post</h1>
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Coming Up for Air by Janet Gurtler</h2>
I haven’t made a secret of the fact that this book <span style="color: red;">(WHO I KISSED)</span> was inspired by my son, a cool dude who happens to have a severe peanut allergy. This book takes my worst fears and puts them it into action. I used to joke with my son that before he kisses a girl, he has to ask her what she had for lunch. Or dinner. He doesn’t find it funny anymore.<br />
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We did have a talk when I decided to write this book. I told him that though it was fiction, it was partly to raise awareness of the dangers that kids with allergies face. And I told him of course, that it was something I never ever wanted to him to deal with. So no kissing girls. Ever. Ha ha. Not really on the last part. He didn’t find that funny either.<br />
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Long before the character of Sam came to life for me, I remember hearing a story in the news, similar to the storyline in WHO I KISSED, about a child dying from a ‘peanut butter kiss’. It stuck with me as a parent of a peanut allergy kid. How horrifying it would be for everyone. Including the child who accidentally caused a death. I also remember hearing a story about a kid at a birthday party who died when the knife used to cut the cake (peanut free cake) was tainted with peanut butter. I don’t know if that story was true, but when you have a child with allergies those types of things make an impression.<br />
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As a parent of a kid with severe food allergies, you get used to people who don’t understand the severity of the allergy. People who complain about not being able to take a peanut butter sandwich to a peanut free school when it is “all their child will eat.” On one level, I totally get that. Confession. I LOVE peanut butter. But on the other hand, something innocent has the potential to cause my child harm, or even cause death and I don’t want to let that happen. I’ve had to shake off my loathing to make people uncomfortable. I have to speak up. I understand that most people don’t mean harm when they send a peanut butter sandwich to school or open a bag of peanuts beside me in the airport. But I have to ask them to put away peanuts or nuts when my son is around. Or to ask their kids to wash their hands after eating something with nuts before playing with my son.<br />
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My strongest argument for why other people should care is — how would YOU feel if your child (or you) caused the death of my son. I know I would feel pretty darn awful (to put it mildly), but what would it do to your child and/or you? How could a child possibly deal with something like that? How could a parent possibly deal with their role in something like that? And the thing is, it’s possible.<br />
It’s about taking ownership of that possibility, but also dealing with the consequences of a very honest mistake. WHO I KISSED looks at how an innocent girl, who unwillingly and unknowingly is involved in the death of a boy who dies. A boy who is allergic to peanuts. It’s about thinking how that would affect you? How would you cope? What would you do?<br />
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Ultimately, like most of the books I write, I think there’s also hope in this book. And some lighter moments too. I created two characters, Aunt Allie and Fredrick to help Samantha deal and also to help the reader deal with the emotional intensity of the book. But it also has a strong message to me, the author. And to my son. Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-45799280882415738122015-02-07T19:47:00.001-07:002015-02-08T15:08:42.074-07:00Heartbreakers Blog Tour! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once again a group of New Adult and Young Adult authors are on their Heartbreakers Tour, checkout the participating bloggers to read all about your favourite authors and for a chance to win the grand prize.<br />
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Grand Prize GIVEAWAY: one lucky winner will receive an ebook edition from each of our participating authors, as well as a $20 Amazon gift card. That’s 14 heartbreaking reads and moolah to buy more. <img alt=";)" class="wp-smiley" src="http://sarahantz.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_wink.gif" /> <br />
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Who can resist a heartbreaker?<br />
<strong>2015 TOUR ROSTER</strong><br />
Participating Authors:<br />
Eileen Cook: Remember (Simon Pulse, 2015)<br />
D.G. Driver: Passing Notes (Fire and Ice, 2015)<br />
Laurie J. Edwards: writing as Erin Johnson. Grace and the Guiltless: Wanted Book 1 (Curious Fox, 2014)<br />
Janet Gurtler:<br />
Sara Hantz: Will The Real Abi Saunders Please Stand Up (Entangled Teen, 2014)<br />
Brenda Hiatt: Starfall (Dolphin Star Press, 2015)<br />
Denise Jaden: Foreign Exchange (Evernight Teen, 2014)<br />
Jen McConnel: Her Secret Inheritance (Bloomsbury Spark, 2014)<br />
Judith Tewes: My Soon to be Sex Life (Bloomsbury Spark, 2014)<br />
Ashley Poston:<br />
Dawn Ius: Anne and Henry (Simon Pulse, 2015)<br />
Shari Green: Following Chelsea (Evernight Teen, 2014)<br />
Vanessa Barneveld: This is Your Afterlife (Bloomsbury Spark, 2014)<br />
LS Murphy: Reaper (J Taylor Publishing, 2013), Pixelated (Bloomsbury Spark, 2015)<br />
Participating Bloggers:<br />
<a href="http://readingismytreasure.blogspot.ca/">Reading is My Treasure</a><br />
<a href="http://www.yayeahyeah.com/">YA Yeah! Yeah!</a><br />
<a href="http://glass-of-wine.blogspot.com.au/">A Glass of Wine</a><br />
<a href="http://littlelibrarymuse.blogspot.ca/">Little Library Muse</a><br />
<a href="http://jennzah.net/">Jennzah.dot.net</a><br />
<a href="http://talesofyesterday.co.uk/">Tales of Yesterday</a><br />
<a href="http://www.thereaderbee.com/">The Reader Bee</a><br />
<a href="https://wordsofmysteryblog.wordpress.com/">Words of Mystery</a>Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-39205963907374268742015-01-21T06:51:00.002-07:002015-01-21T06:51:26.202-07:00Happy New Year?Okay, so it took me 3 weeks, but finally I'm here to shout out HAPPY NEW YEAR! 2015 sounds like an official year doesn't it? I imagine all sorts of wonderful things are supposed to happen...here's hoping, for you and for me! <br />
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So far in 2015, I now have a son who can drive. Well on a learner's permit, so only with supervision but that's good because he's only 14! 14 seems really young to have a learners, but that's the age where I live. What about you? When can kids start to drive in your town?<br />
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We are loving living in Okotoks. It's a small little town, outside Calgary. (perfect for 14 year olds learning to drive. ;) ) I notice the difference now when I go to Calgary. "Oh, it's so busy in the city." I am a townie. I love it. <br />
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I have a new YA coming out in April in case I haven't whacked you with it over the side of the head over and over. It'll be my last YA for a while, which feels a little strange. I don't have a new contract and I haven't been writing YA lately. I started a romance series and have to get back to it, but got sidelined by a couple of women's fiction ideas that I'm super excited about writing. I think my writing voice translates better in women's fiction. I want to do the same thing I do in YA, but with more mature characters. So I'm working on that. <br />
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In 2015 I also plan on going back to work out in the "real" world. Meaning the world outside my home or a nearby coffee shop! I love writing but I think, with my Sourcebooks contracts being up, it's time to get back out in that big ol world and interact with people. I have worked in sales and marketing for many years, so I'm looking at getting back to that. I have some obstacles to overcome, having worked from home for almost 4 years and ah hmm, being a little bit older now... but I was pretty good at sales, and am confident I'll find something. I do plan to keep writing, but on a part time basis instead of a full time one. So onward with that!<br />
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I'm also working on a couple more MERMAID KINGDOM stories for grades 2-5. The Capstone series comes out in March this year, and some library versions are already available for the library markets. These books are super cute, and filled with brilliant illustrations (not by me of course). I'll post links to them another day. This post is supposed to be a catch up, new year post.<br />
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So what about you? What have you got planned for 2015? What have you done so far? <br />
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Is it going to be the best year yet??<br />
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Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-11570917088400964502014-10-29T10:05:00.000-06:002014-10-29T10:05:01.736-06:00The Monkeys are Here!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS5zHmwgeaVAeZYaovQPKTnNSG8faVPj2HeDKUazayspb30RE6EJOynqZ0Hjqa11QBdtczFrWkIhfd4f_EVxKHBB-I0-Xw7ItN6PxHprAhY9W0KlvaDVzK_flJn3jLcXSGbONT1MlykN7E/s1600/1606840_10152748126215272_1942880490056775121_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS5zHmwgeaVAeZYaovQPKTnNSG8faVPj2HeDKUazayspb30RE6EJOynqZ0Hjqa11QBdtczFrWkIhfd4f_EVxKHBB-I0-Xw7ItN6PxHprAhY9W0KlvaDVzK_flJn3jLcXSGbONT1MlykN7E/s1600/1606840_10152748126215272_1942880490056775121_n.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a><br />
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Remember how I mentioned that people who pre-order THE TRUTH ABOUT US will get a BRAVE MONKEY key chain? Well. They arrived at my house yesterday. So. Much. Cuteness. Remember to send me your proof of purchase and I'll send you out your own BRAVE MONKEY!!Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2537422040290330904.post-1253104216891838712014-10-27T13:26:00.001-06:002014-10-27T13:26:21.217-06:00Cover Reveal!! THE TRUTH ABOUT USComing April 2015, THE TRUTH ABOUT US!<br />
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<strong>Sometimes the person who's most different from you is the one who makes you feel like you belong.</strong><br />
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When Jess is caught drinking and inappropriately face-timing boys, her dad orders her to spend the rest of the summer volunteering at the local soup kitchen. Thrust into a world where her own problems no longer seem so insurmountable, Jess meets Flynn, a guy from her high school who comes to the soup kitchen for meals with his adorable little brother. Slowly, Jess and Flynn begin to know and trust each other, despite their different backgrounds and the prejudice of their families. But as their relationship intensifies and outside pressures escalate, can they find the strength to stay together? <br />
Janet Gurtlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378521577302320423noreply@blogger.com3