The Winner and the Foreign Body

And the winner of the Red Glass creative letter-writing contest is…

Emily, age 12! Congratulations, Emily!!!! Enjoy your prize… a signed copy of the audiobook of Red Glass!!!

I loved Emily's letter—it was written from Sophie to Pablo, a year after the book ends. She fills him in on what's been going on in her and Angel's and Dika's and Mr. Lorenzo's lives—and let me tell you, there is a BIG surprise. I'll wait to post the letter until I get official permission from Emily to do so. (If you weren't aware of the contest, you can see the fun and travel section of my website for details. I'll be posting a new contest sometime soon.)

So, last Sunday, I was in a bad mood. I'd just gotten Lasik surgery (24 years in contacts was enough for me) and was assured that I would probably have a "foreign body sensation" in my eyes for a few hours after the surgery. Things were going well with my eyes for a few days, until Sunday morning, when I felt a major foreign body sensation in my eye—it felt like a giant piece of fuzz. I doused my eyeball with drops and ointments, but the feeling wouldn't go away. I was told not to touch or rub my eyes at all, and I practically had to sit on my hands to keep from doing so.

I felt too grumpy to do much-- (did I mention I had a whole big long list of owies including bashing my head on a steel jungle gym bar while playing with my son?) -- so I messed around with the Gimp (free version of Photoshop) and Windows movie maker (even though staring at the computer screen for hours is not recommended for people who've just had Lasik, and was probably not helping my foreign body sensation.)

Anyway, here is my extremely amateur book trailer for The Indigo Notebook. Please, please be forgiving! When I showed an earlier version to Ian (hubbie), he said, "Cool," and tried to leave halfway through.

"Wait!" I commanded/whined, and he watched the second minute, sighing and rolling his eyes.

"So, what do you think?" I asked afterward.

Short pause. "Cool." And he headed to the door.

I chased him outside. "Really? Any more specific feedback?"

"Well, actually, I was trying to be diplomatic, but, how shall we say this, your video might have the opposite effect to what you intend."

"You mean it would make people NOT want to read the book?!"

"Um, it's kind of boring."

I swallowed my urge to threaten to omit him from acknowledgments in future books (I've used that threat so many times he knows I'm bluffing), and told him his feedback would promptly get him kicked out of any writing group. Then I explained that he first must find some positive thing to say about my trailer before giving specific constructive feedback.

After thinking very hard, he said, "Well, the pictures are nice. And maybe you could speed it up a little."

So I went back inside and cut it down to a minute and did a few other maneuvers, and here it is. At least it's short.

(And remember, all book trailers are, as a rule, very cheesy… even the professionally produced ones, I've noticed.)

One of the things I like about my book trailer is that it doesn't have depressing and/or ominous music like many of the other YA book trailers I've seen. (I'm sorry if your book trailer has depressing and/or ominous music—I don't mean to offend you— please rest assured that overall, your trailer probably has LOTS more going for it than mine.) The music was performed by my friend Tino, whose extended family is featured in the images (that I oh-so-deftly photo-shopped). Um, anyway, enjoy the trailer, and remember, if you don't like it, join Ian's club. (And Ian really likes the actual book, so be sure not to judge the book by its trailer…)

Okay, here it is!

Giant Piece of Fuzz story continued…

Wouldn't you know it, I woke up on Monday with that same foreign body feeling in my eye. I was about to phone the eye doc and schedule an appointment because I was sure something was terribly wrong. I examined my eyeball in the mirror once more, and this time, the angle of the morning sunlight was just right, and I'll be darned—There WAS a big piece of fuzz in my eye, so big that I could pluck it out without touching my eyeball. Ah, sweet relief…

Thanks for reading!