Life

Zello Blog.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Welcome to the 2017 TEAM PINK Scavenger Hunt. Featuring Author- SUSAN FAW

PINK!! 
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!!!


You know how JayZ's always going off about how he has 99 problems? Well. I. Janet E. Gurtler have more. I have 

151.  That's right...151.

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!

MEET SUSAN FAW

Professional by day, book nerd and fantasy champion by night,

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.

It’s all in a night’s work, for this whirlwind writer. Welcome to the quest.

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.

Susan spent her childhood summers reading and writing sometimes serious, sometimes humorous works of fiction, imagining the worlds beyond her walls.

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. 

You can find Susan at www.susanfaw.com, on twitter @susandfaw or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SusanFaw.

You can find out how it all began. Download the prequel novella, SOUL SURVIVOR, for free! 

CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR FREE COPY!!!

SEER OF SOULS just won GRAND PRIZE for YA Fiction at Chanticleer on April 1, 2017!!

Seer Blurb:

The time for hiding is finished. The dead are restless. She is COMING...

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.

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. 

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?

Soul Survivor Blurb:

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?

Exclusive Content:

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!

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…

Yes, I want to help! CLICK HERE TO HELP!!


YA SPRING SCAVENGER HUNTERS!!

Link to the next member of TEAM PINK to collect the secret number

PATRICIA B. TIGHE

I'm Not Her Bonus - After the Book is Over- Graduation Scene

Bonus Scene for YASH Spring 2017-

APRIL 4-9, 2017

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….      

SPRING YA TREASURE HUNT!!

On April 4th....

Happy 2017

Happy New Year

It's 2017 and so far so good. 

All the Words

Just Another Sunday. And A Bit About Books.

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.

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.

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.

Anyhow, the cover is fantastic.  Really really well done.   Find it on Goodreads

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.

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.  

So, kudos to her and to Sourcebooks for an amazing feat!

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. 

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 therapist later in life. Right now I’ll just say, sorry little dude. There’s no perfection in parenting, fo shizzle.

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.

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.

Anyhow. I could go on and on about books and thoughts but my upstairs is calling to me.
“Janet. Janet. Come and clean me.”

Damn you upstairs. I must go.

From Flab to Fab... Walking to Runing to Making Healthier Choices.

Hello Bloggity Blog.

So much new. So much the same.  That is the journey of life.




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).


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.

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.

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.

My Mantra for the week- Happiness is a HABIT I will develop. I will work to chose happiness whenever I can- all week long!

Let's do this thing.

Merry 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!

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. 

Looking forward to a new year. Also a nap later today. Did I mention I got up too early.

All the best from my home to yours!!!

Merry Christmas 2015!!

Limited Time! IF I TELL ebook on sale!!

Looking for a book to read on your e-reader? If I Tell is only $2.99 for the next few days!

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!

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

http://www.amazon.com/If-I-Tell-Janet-Gurtler-ebook/dp/B005EU50PG/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

What?

Hello Blog.
I have been a bad blogger this year.

It has been a year all right. A big fat milestone birthday. Loss of my big brother.  A new job.
No new YA book contract...but a new YA finally brewing...

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.

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.

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.

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. 

Happy to still be here. Trying to make it all count....

Hope you are too!

Hello Turkey!

So cooled out to learn that four of my books sold foreign rights to Turkey!

I'm Not Her
How I Lost You
#16 Things I Thought Were True and
The Truth About Us!

Thanks Turkey!!

Being Ian

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

Live.

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.

Brilliant. Funny. Curious. Weird. Eccentric.  Full of life and piss and vinegar. Bouncing though life like Tigger, I often called him Eeyore. Because. Ian.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Uncle. Friend. Cousin. Son. Brother. Boyfriend. Grandson. Co-worker. Mentor. Lawyer. Manager. Team mate. Ex.

Ian.

16 Things I Learned from Mexcio

1. Spanish is a beautiful language even if you don't understand what people are saying

2. Humidity makes it really hard to dry your clothes on a hanger overnight.

3. Feeling soft sand between your toes is better than a dish of ice cream.

4.  Finding and collecting shells is fun no matter how old you are.

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.

6.  It's hard to walk on the shore of the beach for very long.

7.  I will sit through a time share sales pitch to get a good deal on a couple of excursions.

8.  I will not buy a time share no matter how may sales people you make me sit in a room with.

9.  Spotting fish and sea creatures is almost as much fun as playing in the waves.

10.  People take a lot of selfies on the beach.

11.  Bodies come in many shapes and sizes. When everyone is wearing one, no one really cares how you look in your bathing suit.

12.  Buffets get old pretty quickly.

13.  Sunscreen really does work.

14.  If you break it, you really do buy it.

15.  Bartering is something that not everyone is good at.

16.  In the end, there's no place like home.

The Truth About Us Winner and Reviews!

Hello hello. I am back from Mexico.

Wow. That's almost like a poem. Right?

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.

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.

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!!

I'm super excited that reviews in from professional reviewers are great so far! Here's a sample!

 

"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." - VOYA Magazine

 

"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
have compelling stories of their own. " - RT Book Reviews, 4 1/2 Stars

"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.—School Library Journal

Thanks for entering the YASH and my own contest and let me know if you spot THE TRUTH ABOUT US out in the wild!!!

Best!

Janet

YA SCAVENGER HUNT!!

HELLO AND WELCOME to the Spring 2015 YA Scavenger Hunt!




Add up clues, and enter for our prize--one lucky winner will receive one signed book from each author on the hunt in my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!

Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are SIX contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the TEAL TEAM--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!

 

SCAVENGER HUNT PUZZLE

Directions: Below, you'll notice that I've listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the teal team, and then add them up (don't worry, you can use a calculator!). 

Entry Form: Once you've added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.

SCAVENGER HUNT POST

 

I am lucky enough to be hosting
 Amelia Kahaney
on my website!

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 Best American Nonrequired Reading, One Story, Crazyhorse, and other literary magazines. The Brokenhearted, 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, The Invisible, will be published in October. Amelia lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and son.



The Brokenhearted Series: THE INVISIBLE     

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.

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.

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.
Buy the Book Here!

 

EXCLUSIVE CONTENT

How Rose Broke Bad: A Brokenhearted Prequel

 Author’s note: 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.

You don’t need to have read THE BROKENHEARTED to enjoy the story, but if you like what you read, check out the book and its sequel, THE INVISIBLE, for more mayhem and madness in Bedlam City. 

***
     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.
     “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.”
     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.
     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.
     “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.
     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.
     “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.
     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.
      “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. 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.
      “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.
     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.
     She shot a pleading look at Yvette. There’s no way I can do this, the look said.
     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.”
      “Easiest assignment ever,” one of the boys muttered. “You’re so lucky.”
      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. 
     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.
      Rose moved from the window to the doorway of the store, Yvette at her side.
     “Get your blade ready,” Yvette hissed in her ear, moving behind her toward the shop. “And stop thinking about Brill.”
      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.
      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.”
     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.
      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. A store should be orderly, like the way we want the world to be, her father often said. That’s how this store was. Orderly, maintained with love.
      “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.
       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.
      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?”
     I’m a good person, Rose thought, perversely indignant though she had no right to be. After all, she was here to rob him. I’m a shopkeeper’s daughter. But how was he supposed to know that?
     “Say it,” Yvette ordered her, teeth clenched in a tight smile. “Go to the counter and do it. Has to be you.”
     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.  
     The man moved closer to them, a heavy glass bottle in one of his hands, a broom handle clutched in the other.
     “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.”
      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.
      “Gonna have to do better than that,” Rose heard Yvette say behind her. Then there was the distinct click of a gun being cocked.
      “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!”
     To her right, Rose saw the man back up a step, his nostrils flared with fury.
    “They’ll be here any second,” he growled. “Best leave now before it escalates.”
     Rose understood this to mean leave before the cops kill you. 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?
     Rose had watched from the window, ordered by Brill to stay inside.
     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.
     Yvette’s reply came just as the sound of distant sirens reached them. “We’ll be gone before they get here.”
     “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.
     Outside the shop, the two boys perked up, no longer bored. “Nice and clean,” they grinned.
     “You did good,” Yvette said, slapping Rose on the back and sticking the gun back in her jacket pocket. “Now we run.”
     Legs pumping, lungs on fire, Rose ran. A few blocks away, a white van idled, SYN 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.
    "Told you you’d like it,” Yvette said once they were in the van.
 Rose wasn’t sure if she liked it, but suddenly it didn’t matter. Because she’d won. She was protected now.
      “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. Yeah right, 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.
       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.
     “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.”

**

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