Top ten ways in which this week rocked!

Thanks to everyone who has written to say how much you have enjoyed the book or how happy you are to hear of the big movie progress (or to ask for a role in the movie...)

It's been an amazing week because...

1) I got to see my book in stores and appreciate how much my awesome cover leaves other covers in the dust.

2) I found out we're one big step closer to having an actual movie made of something I actually wrote.

3) Michael finally kissed Sara on Prison Break.

4) Many, many people have already read (and reportedly loved) the book.

5) We got over four inches of (badly needed) rain

6) I'm finally getting some time to get back to work on the Gallagher Girls sequel

7) There have been over a thousand unique visitors to this site this week!

8) I got to take time last night to watch Capote, and it made me want to be a better writer.

9) People have reported seeing the book all over which means not only is it out there--it's out there on the good tables, which is what every writer wants to see.

10) any week with a new Veronica Mars episode is a good week.


There is a chance (depending on shooting schedules and time zones) that I may have even more movie news sometime this week--so stay tuned!

In the meantime, take care of my Gallagher Girls--they're out there alone in the big, bad world and looking for good homes.

-Aly

BIG MOVIE NEWS!

Disney has hired screenwriters to adapt I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU into screenplay form!

This is huge!

Even though we're stilla long, long way from seeing my Gallagher Girls up on the big screen, every step we take is big progress because Disney doesn't spend money on screenwriters unless they're serious (or so I'm told.)

The writers are Nichole Millard and Kathryn Price who wrote "Daddy's Little Girl" which stars The Rock as a former NFLquarterback who finds out he has a daughter. They're very hot tickets in town right now, and I'm so excited that they'll be working on my book.

They join the amazing Debra Martin Chase who is producing the film. You've probably heard of a few of Ms. Chase's other projects...a couple of little films called The Princess Diaries and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

Oh my gosh, so much is happening. I need to go lie down.

But wait, I have a sequel to finish, don't I?


Ally

They're here. They're early. I'm freaking out.

Okay. Deep breaths.

I'm finally back from the marathon conference tour, and..well...I gave in.

I had a hunch I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU might be in stores, so I did the big author, please let me see my book and get recognized and mobbed by fans demanding autographs tour.

Well, let me relieve the suspense, there were no screaming fans.

I did however push open the doors of the big Borders and see this....



Can you see it? Yep. That's my book right on the front tables, sticking out like a sore thumb--in a good way.

Does it look awesome? I think it looks awesome!

Then I went in search of more books, because three books on the front table are great, but I'm greedy.

That's when I saw this...


See, that's my book's funky plaid spine right there--on the same shelf as the new Meg Cabot and almost directly above the new Sarah Dessen.

Cool company, huh?

Then the good people at Borders helped me track down all the copies of Cheating at Solitaire and the four Love You Kill Yous, so I could sign them.

And by the way, would you LOOK at that stack of Soitaires?



Now, when I first saw it I freaked because I'd been to this store back last January and signed about twenty copies of Solitaire, and I just knew that those were the same copies...aka unsold copies. But then I opened them and no signature. So, do the math with me folks, the signed copies had sold and they'd ordered more!!!! (which are now signed.)

Did you see the stack? Isn't the stack impressive?

But then I got worried that the Love You Kill Yous would get intimidated by the big stack of Solitaires--what with them being new and all--but then the wonderful Borders manager told me that they'd had several more copies of Love You Kill You, but they'd already sold!!!!

The book isn't even officially out yet!!!

But people are buying it--hopefully lots and lots of people.

More later,
Ally

Opal continued

If you're like me and you want to see more than one or two examples of the big, alleged Opal plagarism, here's a list.

News is coming...I promise. And no, it's not that Brad Pitt has left Angelina for me. I told him it's over, and I think the restraining order finally convinced him.

Also, big thanks to the THREE more people who wrote to tell me that they have read and loved I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU--a book I wrote without help from other books and/or professional book packagers (aka factories.) That's four emails before the book is even out, for those of you who are keeping score. Maybe it isn't going to be a flop.

Maybe.

At the very least, I'm pretty sure people will believe that I wrote it.

Gotta go!
Ally

So much to blog about, so little time

I’ve been on the road for a few days, and everywhere I go I see things I want to blog about. Everywhere! But now, when I have a little time and internet access, all those ideas are gone.

(Oops. Just remembered one. There was a guy on my flight this afternoon who looked exactly like Tom Arnold. Exactly. It was freaky.)

But now that I’m back online all I can think about is the controversy surrounding How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life in which the author allegedly plagiarized (aka ripped off) another author, as reported by the Boston Globe (and others.)

Did she? I don’t know. But I do know that book is plastered everywhere, and if she took the lazy way out and got to be in People magazine anyway--in the very month when I had hoped to be in People--well, I am going to be royally ticked off.

In other news, big thanks to all the organizers and participants of the Pikes Peak Writers’ Conference. It was wonderful!

For all of you aspiring writers out there, I highly recommend attending a conference of some kind. I did, back when I was starting out, and I honestly think that was one of the plot points of my career. As soon as I’d invested the time and money it took to go to that conference, I knew I had to get serious. And I did.

Oh, and even though I’D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I’D HAVE TO KILL YOU isn’t even out yet, I’ve already gotten fan mail from two people who have already read and loved the book. Even though, unlike Opal Metha, The Gallagher Girls weren’t featured in People and USAToday and the Boston Globe and every other media outlet in the country.

Me, bitter? No. Why would you say that?

But I’m not going to let it get me down because I have news. Big news. Huge, exciting news.

But I can’t post it.

Yet.

--Ally

Greetings from Pikes Peak

I’m at the Pikes Peak Writers’ Conference this weekend, going through a little lull between speaking commitments and decided to post a little update.

First thing you need to know: yesterday was a very challenging travel day. Things started off great when a guy in a golf cart met me at the entrance to the airport parking garage and said he’d lead me to an open slot. Hallelujah! He was my new best friend.

But then the good people at American Airlines informed me that my flight was cancelled (not my new best friends, golf cart guy’s position was totally safe.)

But American had re-booked me onto Continental. Then the good people and Continental informed me that my flight was delayed. (Golf cart guy was looking better and better at this point.)

Then, I boarded my flight and proceeded to spend the next hour and a half trying to figure out if our flight attendant was a man or a woman (the verdict: Ieither a man with a really feminine voice or a woman with a really bad haircut.) In any case, golf cart guy was still at the top of the heap.

I had a whole bunch of other things I wanted to share but since I just gave a pretty big, soap-boxxy speech on trimming and pacing, I’ve decided to omit the story of my mad dash through the Houston airport and the onboard bathroom malfunction.

Let me tell you, folks, after the travel day I had, it was soooo nice to have a wonderful, kind person meet me at the airport, shepherd me to the baggage claim area and drive me to the hotel. So nice. I had a new best friend!!

Then everyone kept running up and exclaiming, “You made it!” which was very nice and totally best friend-worthy!

I got to see Kristin-the-magnificent, and meet Margaret Marr, who is a film agent for ICM and the author of the sure-to-be amazing Hollywood Girls Club. Margaret has actually heard about Love You, Kill You and think it’s going to make a great movie, and now she IS my new best friend. We’re going to rent an RV together and drive around signing books and produce lots of super high concept Hollywood star vehicles for our other best friend, Reese Witherspoon. (To be fair, I should point out that neither Margaret nor Reese know about this yet, but I bet they’ll be game.)

After dinner, I got to hang out with the Nelson family, Kristin, her adorable husband and their cute dog (she’s going to post a picture on her blog soon, and I would here except I’m suffering from an excessive amount of chins in it.)

Also joining us for the hanging out portion of the evening was Laura Rennert, another very cool agent (totally best-friend material!), and it was one of the most interesting conversations I’ve been a part of in a long time. Two super cool lit agents talking shop—so interesting and enlightening.

This morning I did a panel session with my BFF, Margaret Marr, and Wendy French, a completely hilarious person and complete contender in the best friend race.

Then I did my session, A Movie-Lover’s Guide to Writing Novels, and it was a packed room. (I even got lots of compliments, Mom, to which I dutifully replied, “thank you, my mother is a speech teacher.”)

Then I went to the bookstore here at the conference for my “signing” only to learn that they’d sold out. Of my book.

Sold.

Out.

It’s a very good day.

Pugs and Kisses

Quick! What was my favorite book of last year?

If you said IF ANDY WARHOL HAD A GIRLFRIEND then you are oh, so correct.

Have you read this book yet? If not, why not? It rocks. Truly.

In fact, I could spent this entire post listing the ways in which I envy its author, the sweet and adorable Alison Pace, but I'm not going to do that.

Sure, she's written a book that I almost literally could-not-put-down--one of those "just one more chapter" books--you know the kind. They're few and far between, but hopefully you've read one or two, and believe me, Andy Warhol belongs on that list.

I could write about how no one has better Amazon reviews than Alison Pace. Sure, writers as a rule shouldn't get too hung up on Amazon reviews, but every time I read Alison's, I turn a little green (it's not a good look for me, btw.)

Or, I could write about how no matter what I do, Alison always has more MySpace friends than me (she is so cyber-popular.)

But instead, I'm going to write about the fact that Kirkus--one of the most brutal and unforgiving literary review publications--said this about Alison's new book:

"Pace has invented an emotionally complex and winning heroine," and, "A remarkably sweet and affecting tale of inner growth."

That's a good Kirkus review, people! No one (and by no one, I mean me) gets good Kirkus reviews.

I want to hate her!

But I can't, because I adore her!

Oh, jealousy, what a vicious, vicious circle.

So instead, I'll just tell you all that PUG HILL, Alison's new book will be released on May 1 (the same day as a certain young adult novel I might have mentioned a time or two before.)

According to my sources (aka, Alison's blog) the Pugs are shipping already from BarnesandNoble.com.



I read this book months ago, and it's wonderful. It's not another Bridget Jones clone; it goes deeper like only an author as talented as Alison Pace can.

No one in this business writes like Alison Pace. No one.

But don't take my word for it.

--Ally

TV--not all evil

I have several pet peeves. It's a girl's right, is it not? But one of my big ones has to be people who proclaim that "TV is evil" or "I never watch TV" or my personal favorite "There's nothing good on TV."

Yeah, well, I don't believe you. None of you. I think you're lying. Everyone watches TV sometimes, and TV isn't a terrible, hideous, vice of the non-cultured. Remember when A&E brought the amazing Nero Wolfe series to life for a couple of season? Well, that was pretty freaking cultured if you ask me.

So TV and I are good friends.

Tonight, though, was one of the single-best TV nights of my life, and I only watched two hours of it (deadlines call, my friends. Deadlines call.)

But how great was Gilmore Girls!?!?! Oh my gosh! They're back! From the first exchange between Mrs. Kim and Lorelai, I knew that my girls were back in their groove and this episode so didn't disappoint. We had wacky Kirk moments (from the Yummy Bartenders to Mrs. Kim's qualification that Kirk doesn't qualify as a man and therefore couldn't be considered Lorelai's escort.)

We had a wacky cross-town race (48 chairs, 52 Koreans.) We had excellent Christopherness (not a word--but it should be because Rory's dad could totally be a Yummy Bartender.)

Love this show.

Then, Veronica Mars. OH. MY. GOSH. Everything about this show is television perfection. Everything. I bow down at their creative feet and worship at the alter of plot twists. Every little thing can matter sometime, somewhere, and tonight it did.

Wow.

I'm so not worthy.

And I so have to get back to work now.

--Ally

EASTER WEEKEND, a retrospective

Oh, boy. Did I have a weekend?

I got to ice about six dozen egg-shaped cookies in varying sizes.

I got to eat Chinese take-out from my favorite place and also the best pork tenderloin I’ve ever had.

I got to see my family members I only really get to see on major holidays.

I got to show off my shiny, new, finished copy of I’D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I’D HAVE TO KILL YOU and convince my Aunt Nadine to start calling bookstores, asking for copies, while disguising her voice to make it seem like the book is more in-demand than it actually is.

I got to hear that my cousin Arden’s husband really loved Cheating at Solitaire, and that he has recommended it to his entire construction crew. . . you know—my target audience.

(NOTE: if you are a friend of my cousin Arden’s you can believe her now. She is my cousin. She’s not making it up because, first, why would anyone make that up? And second, if Arden is going to make something up, it’s going to be way better than this. Trust me. I know her pretty well and trust her creative powers.)

I got to hide 213 Easter eggs. Yes, 213 exactly because anyone who is anyone knows you have to count the Easter eggs—especially the real ones. (Really, people, this totally isn’t my first hunt.)

I got to see a guy in a big bunny suit, at which time I turned to my sister and said, "Quick, what am I thinking about right now?" and she, correctly, said, "Steel Magnolias."

But by far the highlight of my weekend had to be standing in my sister’s darkened dining room at eleven o’clock Friday night, watching her next door neighbor’s house getting toilet papered. That’s right, the art of toilet papering has not died.

We were pretty sure the culprits were eighth grade boys who are classmates of the eighth grade girl who lives in the house next door. What was decidedly less certain was what the two of us were supposed to do about it.

Clearly everyone next door was asleep, and even if they weren’t, would calling them and sending her dad into the yard with a baseball bat ruin this girl’s life forever? Would she have to escape to a boarding school in Vermont like Logan’s girlfriend on Veronica Mars? Would we eventually have to try pick the culprits out of a lineup?

Really, people, there’s a great deal of responsibility associated with being the sole witnesses of a TPing.

As it turns out, it didn’t matter much because the act was pretty much done by the time we saw what was going on.

Personally, I wanted to take pictures, but it was too dark, so they probably wouldn’t have been admissible in court anyway. Even though it would have been nice to send them to the young woman who is translating Love You Kill You into Japanese. There is a TPing reference in the book and, needless to say, that particular piece of American culture doesn’t necessarily translate.

Shame, huh?

Partners and Ghosts

In the last few weeks I’ve gotten the same question in many different forms. Sometimes it comes via email, and sometimes it comes from people who show up at signings and events, asking if they can speak to me, pulling me aside as if what they have to say is top secret.

But it’s never a secret. Never. I’ve heard it enough by now to know before the conversation starts that the puller has story that he wants me, the pullee, to write for him.

Should I feel honored? Probably. Do I? No. Not anymore.

Now, it just makes me mad.

Yeah, I said mad, because in asking for this favor (or presenting me with this opportunity, as they see it), the puller always explains that the reason they don’t write their story themselves is because I have connections and/or training they don’t have. In other words, I’m just lucky and they’re not.

Well, my agent was the first person I ever met with publishing connections and I met her by following the protocol for submitting new projects outlined on her website.

And how about all the “training” I received? Well, let me think. I never took creative writing, and I tested out of English I and English II at college, so the last English course I had was in high school. (How many pullers had high school English, do you think?)

So I get mad…eventually. While I’m in the presence of a puller, I smile and recommend books and try to encourage the person to tell their own story, but nine times out of ten, that person will just say that they really need a ghostwriter or a writing partner, and then they leave--usually before I actually give my presentation.

If they'd stayed and listened, they might have learned something. But that’s the thing: they don’t want to learn. They just want it to be as easy for them as they think it was for me.

Now, I also get a fair amount of email and questions from friends and strangers who are honestly interested in learning about the business and the craft. There’s a vast difference between asking for advice and guidance and trying to get someone else to do your work for you. So, these folks, I try to help.

Therefore, this is my attempt—feeble as it is—at answering the most difficult of these questions: How do you write a book?

1. Read a book. Seriously. Read hundreds of them if you can—in all genres and all types—until you figure out the type of book you want to write. If you’re now saying, “yeah, but I don’t have time to read a bunch of books,” then I have to say, “Then how are you going to find time to write one?”
2. Get some blank notebooks and pens or pencils or a laptop or a desktop or a whole bunch of old envelopes or a stack of notecards or brown paper grocery sacks or… Well, just get you something to write on.
3. Start writing.

Really, truly, I could stop now. Because what comes next has no formula—no recipe. There really is no answer, but here’s how I did (and do) it.

4. Write the words “Don’t get it right—get it written” on a piece of paper and hang it someplace where you’ll see it every day.
5. Figure out a story to tell. Some people will outline or “storyboard” the whole plot. Some people will fly by the seat of their pants. There is no wrong or right way, only the way that will work for you, and guess what? I can’t tell you what way that is. You will only learn by doing. So do.
6. Pick your main character(s) and a point of view.
7. Start writing. Make tons of mistakes—you’re supposed to. It’s expected.
8. Put your first draft in a drawer and don’t look at it for three months.
9. Pull the first draft out and read it in one sitting. Have a pen handy to make obvious notes, but don’t do anything but read.
10. Get a good night’s sleep.
11. Start to work on your second draft.
12. Repeat steps 8-11 until you can read it and be reasonably happy.
13. Get someone you trust to read it and get their opinions on what works and what doesn’t.
14. Rewrite again as many times as needed.
15. The final step is to be really proud--most people didn’t make it past the “read lots of book” step.

Sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it? Well, guess what: it is.

If you’ve made it through all of those steps and want to pursue having it published by a reputable, legitimate, publisher, click here and follow my instructions for “how do you get a book published.”

If you want more detail about the writing process, there are some very good books that talk about the craft. One is On Writing by Stephen King. The first craft book I ever owned was Screenplay by Syd Field. Almost any bookstore will have a few titles along these lines. Pick one up and read it while you’re in your reading phase—it’s not going to hurt.

Is writing something that can be taught? Are great writers born or made? I think the answer is both. Don’t tell me someone like Jonathan Lethem (author of the amazing, Motherless Brooklyn) isn’t talented. But also don’t tell me that he just rolled out of bed one day and threw that book together. It’s a masterpiece, and I know that it takes a great deal of effort to write something that reads that effortlessly.

The truth is that you will only learn to write by writing…by doing…so DO!

Have a Good Friday!

I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter weekend! I have to say that Easter has always been my favorite holiday. I'm not sure why, but I think it's because it doesn't have the huge buildup and inevitable anticlimax of Christmas or the fire danger of the Fourth of July.

I've purchased Easter dresses. I've worn Easter bonnets (and have an adorable picture somewhere at my parents' house to prove it.) I've hunted eggs. I've hidden eggs. I've hidden eggs so well we didn't actually "find" them until July when they got demolished with a weedeater. And I have decorated egg-shaped sugar cookies with frosting in every possible shade of pastel.

I, my friends, am an Easter junkie. The bunny's got the hooch and I need it bad.

No matter your beliefs, I think you have to feel like Easter is about new beginnings and life eternal. After all, it's spring. The world is waking up again, and every evening about dusk I can't help but sit on the porch and breathe deeply and think, yeah, I've missed this.

So I hope everyone has a Good Friday, and a wonderful Saturday and Sunday, too.

I'll be away from the blogsphere, doing family and deadline things, but I should be back next week--hopefully with good and/or humorous news.

God bless and Happy Easter!
Ally

Chapter 2, continued

Okay, so I'm obsessed. Officially.

I am now to books what Jonathan from Blow Out is to hair--freaky and compulsive and entirely too into it.

I'd Tell You I Love You But Then I'd Have to Kill You will be out in less than a month. I was excited when Cheating at Soltaire came out last fall, but this book is different. It's not the "oh my gosh, I'm a published author" rush. It's more like a "this is the best book I'll ever write, so if it flops, I'll never make it in this business" nightmare.

So I could panic or cry or hound my publicist with 200 more emails...or I can just post another excerpt instead.

So here it is, the second section of chapter two.

Enjoy!

I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU
chapter two, continued

(Haven't read chapter 1? Go here. For the first part of chapter 2, go here.)

The next morning was torture. Absolute torture! And that’s not a word I use lightly considering the family business. So maybe I should rephrase: the first day of classes was challenging.

We didn’t exactly go to bed early…or even a little late…or even at all unless you count lying on the faux fur rug in the common room with the entire sophomore class of sprawled around me as the basis for a good night’s sleep. When Liz woke us up at seven, we decided we could either primp for an hour and skip breakfast or throw on our uniforms and eat like queens before Professor Smith’s 8:05 COW lecture.

B.S. (before Solomon) waffles and bagels would have won out for sure. But today, Professor Smith had a lot of eyelined and lipglossed girls with growling stomachs listening to him talk about civil unrest in the Baltic States when 8:30 rolled around. I looked at my watch, the ultimate pointless gesture at the Gallagher Academy because classes run precisely on time, but I had to see how many seconds were standing between me and lunch. (11,705 just in case you’re curious.)

When COW was over, we ran up two flights of stairs to the fourth floor for Madame Dabney’s Culture and Assimilation lessons which, sadly, that day did not include tea. Then it was time for third period.

I had a pain in my neck from sleeping funny, at least five hours worth of homework, and a newfound realization that woman cannot live on cherry flavored lipgloss alone. I dug in the bottom of my bag and found a breath mint of very questionable origin and figured that if I was going to die of starvation, I should at least have minty-fresh breath for the benefit of whatever classmate or faculty member would be forced to give me CPR.

Liz had to go by Mr. Mosckowitz’s office to drop off an extra credit essay she’d written over the summer (yeah, she’s that girl), so I was alone with Bex when we reached the base of the grand staircase and turned into the small corridor that was one of three ways to the Subs, or Subfloors, where we’d never been allowed before.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror we tried hard not to blink or do anything that might confuse the optical scanner that was going to verify that we were, in fact, sophomores and not seventh graders trying to sneak down to the Subs on a dare. I studied our reflections and realized that I, Cameron Morgan, the headmistress’s daughter who knew more about school than any Gallagher Girl since Gilly herself, was getting ready to go deeper into the vault of Gallagher secrets. Judging from the Goosebumps on Bex’s arm, I wasn’t the only one who got chills at the thought of it.

A green light flashed in the eyes of a painting behind us. The mirror slid aside, revealing a small elevator that would take us one floor beneath the basement to the Covert Operations classroom and--if you want to be dramatic about it--our destinies.

“Cammie,” Bex said slowly, “we’re in.”

From I'd Tell You I Love You But Then I'd Have To Kill You
(Hyperion, May 2, 2006)
available for pre-order now



Please buy it. Please. I'm begging you.


--Ally




Coming Soon: More about another great book available on May 2! (One I love simply because it's great--not because I'll have to go into an author relocation program if it doesn't do well.)

IT'S HERE!

It's official, I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU is a book. A real one.

Isn't it pretty? You can't tell from the pic, but it's hardback (yea!) and the letters are raised slightly, giving it a very rich finish. It is completely and totally stunning!

I just keep looking at it (I should be working) and thinking about how crazy it is to be holding a finished book in my hands. Did you know that, a year ago right now I was working on the proposal for this book?

Did you know that the official publication date is May 2, and that last year, we got the call from Hyperion on May 3?

People talk sometimes about how slowly the publishing industry moves, but now I'm holding proof that that isn't always the case.

Learning to Play Gin is going to be released on November 7. Last year, Solitaire came out December 6th. For those of you doing the math at home, that's three books in 11 months.

No wonder I'm tired.



--Ally


PS...In other news, the audiobook is evidently ready to be released, too. If you want to hear an excerpt, go here.

Wanted: new official food

When I'd Tell You I Love You But Then I'd Have to Kill You comes out in a few short weeks, there will be one huge, terrible, tragic omission on the Acknowledgements page.

I didn't thank Hostess chocolate Donettes--the official food of the Love You Kill You writing process.

It was a long, stressful, and often terrifying process, but the donettes were always there for me--guiding me through.

No matter the time of day (or night) or how many hours I'd been up or how many diet Cokes I'd consumed so that I'd built up an undeniable caffeine-immunity, I could count on the little donettes, and together, we wrote one heck of a book.

But it's time for a new book, and a new era (probably because if I don't change the era I'm going to have to buy all new summer clothes and I really don't want to do that.)

So I've said goodbye to my old friend, the chocolate donette, and I'm looking for a new official food of Gallagher Girls 2.

Here are the candidates:

Microwave popcorn: always a bridesmaid, this food has seen me through a lot of years, but I'm afraid it just doesn't have the energy or enthusiasm of its predecessor.

The little Weight Watcher mini chocolate cakes: they give a quick chocolate fix, but with only 80 calories. Still, they're tiny and expensive, and they're stocked right next to the donettes, so I don't trust myself to go down that aisle at the supermarket. At all.

Red seedless grapes. Yeah. Like that's gonna happen.

Fat free fudgecicles. They too give me a little chocolate hit, but there's an aftertaste situation I'm not real fond of.

Baked Lays: these too have been a staple in my pantry for some time, but I just don't see them replacing the donette for a girl who craves sweet ten times more often than she craves salty.

Little mini 100 Grand bars: after doing my homework I learned that 100 Grand and Almond Joy are two of the lower-calorie candy bars on the market. A little mini 100 Grand has 100 calories, and is also fairly satisfying because all that caramel takes forever to chew.

Okay, nominations from the floor? I desperately need a new official food here, folks! My career (and butt) are riding on it!

--Ally

TNSS--a literary epidemic

NATIONAL LITERARY HEALTH ALLIANCE ISSUES STATEMENT WARNING READERS AND WRITERS AGAINST PERILS OF TNSS.

(Okay, so there isn't a National Literary Health Alliance--but wouldn't it be cool if there were?)

I know I’m not the world’s greatest writer—obviously. But I am a writer who is constantly trying to learn and improve and master my craft, which is why I feel compelled to write about the epidemic that is sweeping the literary world—TNSS.

TNSS, also known as Tell Not Show Syndrome, is evidently reaching a critical mass. I have started three books this week (two by NYT Bestselling authors and one by a new author who is getting all the promotional perks that make other new authors hate her), and they all are told and not shown, prompting me to issue the following statement.

****

ALERT: due to an overwhelming (or…well…three) number of TNSS-infected books, readers and writers should be aware of the dangers of this increasingly-common and often contagious literary syndrome.

Symptoms:

Readers and writers should be on the lookout for the following:

The word “was.” Yes, it’s true. This simple three-letter word is one of the key indicators of TNSS. Since its use can sometimes be benign, “was” and any of its other forms should be used with caution and certainly never to say, “I was tired,” “I was hungry,” or “I was being chased through the snow by a man with a gun.” (Seriously, if you can’t “show” that last one—you don’t deserve your place on the Times list.)

Introductory pages with no or very little dialogue. In cases where readers find out everything there is to know about the main character before the main character actually does or says anything, TNSS is almost certainly present! Proceed with caution.

If no one can enter a scene without at least two pieces of information being tacked on behind their names, (Example: “In walked Kate Worthington, a former model who had married well and divorced better and who wanted my job despite the fact that everyone in my hometown thought I’d be better off marrying Dirk Dexter, my high school boyfriend whose belly hadn’t quite caught up to his beer habit.”) then TNSS is in an advanced stage. Professional help may be needed.

Treatment:

If discovered early on, TNSS can be treated by careful editing and massive doses of red ink.

However, sometimes TNSS is not diagnosed until the book is in print, in which cases it will only be enjoyed by readers who have a high TNSS tolerance.

Readers may not be aware that TNSS is present. They may only notice that the book reads sluggishly or that they can put it down and not rush back to it for long periods of time.

Writers should be very careful when reading books which are TNSS-carriers. It is catching because writing a book that tells, not shows, is easier—so much easier—so you may be tempted to do that yourself.

If you feel yourself coming down with TNSS, contact your editor, agent, or critique group immediately.

Prevention:

TNSS is a major problem, but it is manageable. One of the best ways to protect yourself against TNSS is to read books that are certified TNSS-Free.

Examples include anything by Alison Pace, Dennis Lehane, and Jill A. Davis. This, more than anything else, will build up your immunity.

TNSS is a terrible epidemic, but it is manageable and preventable. Your literary health is in your own hands.

--Ally

PS…oh and I’m not going to name the three offenders because A) I’m not stupid and B) I’m not tacky. But I bet some of you have read at least one of them—and maybe you liked it—but I won’t be reading any more, lest I get catch TNSS. I hear it’s terribly contagious.

The essentials

Things I believe every woman should own (and know how to use):

A standard (flathead) screwdriver. A Phillips head screwdriver. A Microsoft Excel spreadsheet, and a Kitchenaid mixer.

Quicken (or Microsoft Money). The Pride and Prejudice miniseries on DVD. Sunscreen of at least SPF 30. A cordless, rechargeable drill, and a Southern Living cookbook.

Jumper cables. Alarm clock. Control top pantyhose.

Black pants, white blouse, and the ability to accessorize.

Dictionary. Sports bra. Tall black boots.

Vitamins E, C and Calcium.

A membership to AAA.

At least one movie staring Audrey Hepburn.

A Crate and Barrel catalog.

A 401(k) and an IRA and the willpower to use them.

Okay, folks, so what have I missed?

--Ally

"When did you decide to become a writer?"

I've gotten that question a lot lately--the "when did you decide to become a writer" question. And for a long time my response has been "it's always been something I wanted to try."

Boy, was I wrong.

That really isn't the answer, I realized the other day. The answer isn't nearly that generic. The answer is specific--very specific. The answer is "I decided I wanted to become a writer the day I heard SE Hinton was from Tulsa."

Now, to a lot of you that may not mean anything. But when you're a girl on a farm in Oklahoma and you spend all day everyday watching people do hard work, and then you hear about another girl from Oklahoma who gets paid to make up stories for a living--it sticks with you. And when every hot young star in Hollywood--the very stars who are plastered inside three quarters of the lockers at your middle school--sign up to star in a movie based on a book by that girl from Oklahoma, well, then that settles it.

I distinctly remember that day. I don't remember how old I was exactly, but I do remember walking around the house with an old paperback copy of The Outsiders and having my dad say, "She's from Tulsa."

"Who?" I asked.

"The woman who wrote that."

The woman who wrote that was from Tulsa--the very city where I shopped for back-to-school clothes and ate state fair corndogs. It was the closest I had ever come to greatness, and just knowing it was that close taught me that anyone could touch it--anyone could have it.

So that's when it started. That was a plot point of my life.

Sorry I'd forgotten until now.


--Ally

PS...How about it, everybody? What was the plot point of YOUR life?

CHAPTER TWO

Have you read the first chapter of I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU (which we insiders refer to as Love You Kill You--or LYKY--by the way)? If not, go here.

Okay, are you back now? Do you want more?

If so, feast your eyes on the first part of Chapter Two--seen here for the very first time anywhere!

Enjoy!

Ally

I'D TELL YOU I LOVE YOU BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU

CHAPTER TWO

Bex had spent six hours on a private jet, but her cappuccino-colored skin was still glowing, and she looked as if she’d just walked away from a Noxema commercial, so I really wanted to be petty and point out that the sign in foyer said that we were supposed to be speaking English with American accents during the Welcome Back Dinner, but as the only non-US citizen Gallagher Girl in history, Bex was used to being an exception. My mom had bent some serious rules when her old friends from England’s MI-6 called and asked if their daughter could be a Gallagher Girl. Admitting Bex had been Mom’s first controversial act as headmistress (but not her last.)

“You have a good holiday, then?” Throughout the hall, girls were beginning to eat, but Bex just blew a bubble with her gum and grinned, daring us to ask her for the story. “Sodding ears won’t pop.”

“Bex, if you know something, you’ve got to tell us,” Liz demanded even though it was totally pointless. No one can make Bex do anything she doesn’t want to do. I may be a chameleon, and Liz may be the new Einstein, but when it comes to general stubbornness, Bex is the best spy ever!

She smirked, and I knew she’d probably been planning this scene since she was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean (in addition to being stubborn, Bex is also quite theatrical). She waited until all eyes were on her--holding the silence until Liz was about to explode, then she took a warm roll from the basket on the table and nonchalantly said, “New teacher.” She tore the bread in half and slowly let the butter melt. “We gave him a ride from London this morning. He’s an old pal of my father.”

“Name?” Liz asked, probably already planning how she was going to hack into the CIA headquarters at Langley for details as soon as we were free to go back to our rooms.

“Solomon,” Bex said, eyeing us. “Joe Solomon.” She sounded eerily like the black, teenage, female James Bond.

We all turned to look at Joe Solomon. He had the scruffy beard and restless hands of an agent fresh off a mission. Around me, the hall filled with whispers and giggles—fuel that would have the rumor mill running on high by midnight—and I remembered that even though the Gallagher Academy is a school for girl geniuses, sometimes the emphasis should be kept on the girl.

From I'd Tell You I Love You But Then I'd Have To Kill You
(Hyperion, May 2, 2006)
available for pre-order now


You're dying to read the rest, right? Oh, please tell me you're dying to read the rest!

What's in a blog?

Hi everyone!

I've been doing this diary for several weeks now (and I really enjoy it), but being the customer-minded person that I am I thought I'd pick the brains of you--the loyal readers--to find out how I might enhance your blog-reading experience. So here goes: some questions if you don't mind.

(You should be able to vote multiple times in each category!)

-Ally

What do you want out of your blog reading experience? Make me laugh Show me an insider's view of publishing Give me news about you and your books Just keep doing what you've been doing. Free polls from Pollhost.com

How often do you read blogs (in general)? Every day Multiple times each week A few times a month Very rarely Free polls from Pollhost.com

Does Ally update her blog Too frequently--I can't keep up Not frequently enough A few times a week is fine for me Forget the blogging and focus on writing Free polls from Pollhost.com

I'm reading this blog because I'm Ally's friend and/or family member I'm a writer too--I'm just trying to stay in the loop I've read Ally's books and want to read more things written by her I just found this blog one day and enjoyed it so I keep coming back I am Ally's stalker and this is as close as the restraining order will let me get. Free polls from Pollhost.com

Everything I need to know about book reviews I learned from watching Pretty Woman.

Over the last year or so I’ve come to the opinion that writers are very private people who put themselves “out there” in a very public way, and perhaps no way is as anticipated, or as dreaded, as reviews.

They trickle in slowly, deliberately, and whether they’re from a big-name publication or a high school newspaper in another state, the author always holds her breath as she reads them.

Well, folks, it’s started.

I’d Tell You I Love You But Then I’d Have To Kill You received its first two reviews (that I know about) last week.

Jennifer Wardrip at TeensReadToo.com called it “… a wonderful, laugh-out-loud, action-adventure extravaganza. …you won't be able to put this book down once you start. A true winner… I definitely can't wait for a sequel!”

And Liz Burns from A Chair, A Fireplace, and A Tea Cozy said it’s “…a fun, action-packed adventure…set in a world that is a little bit Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a little bit Alias, and a little bit 007.”

Which begs the question: what is wrong with Liz and Jennifer?

Seriously, they must want something. A walk-on role in the movie (IF it ever gets made)? A nice little kickback from the folks at Hyperion? How about some of my mom’s world-famous cinnamon rolls?

There simply has to be something in it for them, right?

I’m a member of an online writers board where a NY Times Bestseller frequently posts, and she has said that she doesn’t read reviews because, if you read the good ones, you should also read the bad ones—Yen and Yang and all that. And I think it’s true, but my problem with that is that I only believe the bad ones.

(Maybe Liz and Jennifer think I’m related to Jimmy Carter...)

Every time I even think about reviews anymore I remember that scene from Pretty Woman when he says, “You are a very bright, very special woman,” and she says, “The bad stuff is easier to believe.”

So there, that’s my philosophy on reviews: the bad stuff is easier to believe.

But in the meantime, thanks Liz and Jennifer. I’m hard at work on that sequel, so stay tuned!

(Oh, and if you email me your mailing addresses, I’ll see if I can’t get you some of those cinnamon rolls.)

--Ally

Next time on Ally's Diary (kinda like, "Next time on 24, or LOST, or whatever...get it?): starting next week I'm going to be posting parts of Chapter Two of Love You, Kill You, so check back soon!