In which I kill a cow

So, the new book is coming along. I’m finally getting in a routine with the puppy (by the way, if I ever at some point in the future — and I mean ever, like, even when I’m eighty and should know better — even indicate that I might consider getting a puppy again? Shoot me in the foot. Don’t outright kill me or anything, but definitely incapacitate me in some way. I am not kidding. I will thank you after I stop bleeding.).

It’s a really different experience writing a book for adults rather than young adults. Not in the way some people might say (you know the people I mean…the ones who don’t think YA literature is “real” literature) but in that I want this book to be really out there pushing some edges. It’s not quite there yet and I know I’ll have to add in some additional layers of nutcaseness, but it’s starting to take shape. And there’s lots of room for swearing.

Wait, you say, aren’t you the same writer who wrote a book with a talking pink cat?

Yeah, yeah. But this is a different kind of edginess. Trust me. Like, I was writing a scene where the main character and her sort-of not-exactly  boyfriend who happens to be gay are visiting her family for the first time. It was going okay and he was all charming and everything and I was thinking, well, this is too darn easy. Where’s the crazy? So then he accidentally shot their cow. And that was better.


So, yes, that’s how this book is going. I’m trying to have fun with it. Because why do this if it isn’t fun?

Pretty soon I’ll have the characters in London and then I can unleash the craziness that happens all around where I live. I’ve been dying to do that. There is so much crazy in this neighborhood that it’s just pure awesome with a side of weird. You have no idea.

Though you could totally Skype with Me and ask me about it.

  1. This seems like a book that would be alot of fun to write and that cracks me up about the kind of boyfriend who’s gay. Priceless!

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