"If music is the food of love..."

Unofficial Playlist for The Dream Diaries (with teasers):

Sometimes we turn to music as a way of shifting our moods, maybe to calm us or as a motivational tool, to help lift us up. But just as often—maybe more often—we seek out music that is in tune with our emotions. We identify with songs and artists that seem to express exactly what we are feeling, only more intensely, more precisely, as if they understood completely what we are going through, as if they could speak for us.

The following twelve songs sample the emotional arc of Evelyn’s character, as well as the characters that possess her dreams. As the unofficial soundtrack to the book, the songs fit specific scenes in the story. For each of those scenes, I’ve shared a brief excerpt from The Dream Diaries (just teasers, no spoilers … I hope).

1.    Song: “Oh My God”

Artist: Ida Maria (Fortress around My Heart)

Lyrics: “Find a cure, find a cure for my life… Oh my God. Oh you think I’m in control. Oh my God. Oh you think it’s all for fun.”

From Chapter One: Evelyn’s drawing again…

Evelyn turned to the first blank page. The problem was, she didn’t trust herself, not as far as her drawings were concerned. Not at the risk of manipulating or hurting others, intentionally or not. But what if she didn’t try to draw her daily reality? What if she documented her dreams instead? This one had left her too anxious to sleep anyway. Maybe by drawing it, by capturing the terrible details of the nightmare on paper, she could exorcise them from her mind.

Evelyn selected a pencil from the mug on her desk, touched the paper with the point, and began to draw.

2.    “IDK How”

Artist: Angelic Milk (single)

Lyrics: “I don't know how, but I learn fast. I don't know how, but if I learned how I'd be the best.”

From Chapter Three: Meanwhile, it’s Walt Whitman in English class…

Schwartz had stopped to talk with the group next to theirs. He was leaning heavily on the table top with one hand and gesturing with the other.

Evelyn turned back to the poem. “I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate.” Schwartz wanted them to identify the words that created tone. Which ones didn’t? “I see the treacherous seducer of young women. I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be hid.”

“Do we have to analyze everything we read to death?” she whispered.

Mara looked up and gave her a knowing smirk.

Evelyn saw Mr. Schwartz at the next table, his hand fluttering in the air as he spoke like a one-winged bird, and she felt suddenly ashamed. Lowering her head, she forced herself to go back to the poem.

3.    Song: “Normal Person”

Artist: Arcade Fire (Reflektor)         

Lyrics: “Is anything as strange as a normal person? Is anyone as cruel as a normal person?”

From Chapter Three: “Hey, who’s that boy over there?”

Evelyn and Karen followed Denise’s gaze to a table at the far edge of the freak section, almost closer to the main lunch mob than the tables behind the art buildings. A kid in a grey hoodie and a baseball cap was sitting there alone.

“Psycho Loner Kid?” Karen asked. “What about him?

“Well, nothing. I’ve never seen him before.”

“That’s his name?” asked Evelyn. “I thought it might be Slim Shady or something.”

“Yeah, right?” Karen laughed, and then she began to bob her head and rap the refrain from Eminem’s “Lose Yourself”.

“Why do they call him Psycho Loner Kid?”

Both Evelyn and Karen turned to look at Denise.

“Okay, yeah, I get it,” she said, “but why psycho?”

“I don’t know,” said Karen. “Look at him.”

Evelyn could see he had his ear buds in, but his eyes were on the lunch crowd and not the phone he was holding in front of him.

“Maybe he lives alone with his dead mother?” offered Evelyn.

4.    Song: “Riko's Smooth Talking Mothers”

Artist: Le Butcherettes (Sin Sin Sin)

No Lyrics, just guitar, bass, and drums.

From Chapter Four: “Oh no,” she said, “My parents are home.”

“What!” Sammy nearly shoved Evelyn onto the floor as he scrambled away from her and off of the bed. “Already?”

“Yes.” She rolled the rest of the way off the bed and onto her feet.

“But, I can’t be up here!” he hissed.

“Well,” she said, hastily smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. “It’s too late now.”

“But we weren’t doing anything!”

5.    Song: “Sweet Annie”

Artist: Reina del Cid (The Cooling)

Lyrics: “If you ever leave me I'd grab my gun and start a war.”

From Chapter Seven: Christian.

“Sometimes he drinks too much,” she would tell Christian, sitting on the side of his bed to wake him for school. “He doesn’t mean to hurt me. It’s not him. It’s the alcohol. Promise me you will never drink, mijo. Promise me.” She would say all this in the still dark of early morning, her face in shadow, her voice a careful whisper. “He works hard. He takes care of us. He doesn’t really mean it. He’s a good man, Christian.”

But he wasn’t.

6.    Song: “Kiss Me Again”

Artist: Jessica Lea Mayfield (With Blasphemy So Heartfelt)

Lyrics: “Well you can kiss me again if you want, I don't mind. Well you can kiss me again if you want, oh that'd be fine.”

From Chapter Seven: Sammy and Evelyn get their intellectual flirt on.

“That’s if you believe in destiny,” she said.

“So, if I hadn’t walked into that room and found you by yourself that night at Brianna’s party, then it would have been some other meeting, some other crossing of our life threads?”

“Like college?”

“Yeah, maybe we go to the same college and you’re an art student, and I’m a starving engineering major, trying to make some extra money, working part-time as one of those nude art models.”

“And I take one look at your Adonis body and fall in love with you instantly?”

“And then when you take me out to dinner—”

“Because you’re starving?”

“Yes, and you find that I’m not just extremely good looking, but I have a brain, too.”

“Which, of course, is what I’m really interested in,” she said, working around to his side of the canvas as she painted. “But what if it wasn’t our destiny to meet, but we did by chance?”

“Oh, so we’re breaking the rules of fate,” he said, “cheating destiny every minute we’re together?”

“Wow, what a romantic you are. Cheating destiny? Changing the future?”

“Hey,” He bent over the paint tray with his roller, but when he stood up his hands were empty. “If Evelyn Hernandez could actually be my girlfriend, anything is possible.”

She left her roller where it was on top of the wet canvas and then she was in his arms and they were kissing.

“Hey!” Jason and Denise called out at the same time. “Get back to work, you two!”

7.    Song: “Bizarre Love Triangle”

Artist: New Order (Brotherhood)

Lyrics: “I do admit to myself, that if I hurt someone else, then I'll never see just what we're meant to be.”

From Chapter Eight: Awkward…

“Evelyn?”

“I…” she began, but then something behind them caught her eye, and both Karen and Denise turned to follow her gaze. It was the kid. He was sitting at his table again.

“I have to go over there,” she said. “I have to talk to him.”

Just as Evelyn stood up, Sammy and Jason came walking around the corner of the art building. She quickly sat down again.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” said Sammy, “but it looks like you were expecting us.”

8.    Song: “Soniatl”

Artist: Chicano Batman (Chicano Batman)

Lyrics: “Soniatl sigue soñando sueños alegres porque amarillo es tu color.”

From Chapter Eight: Did not see this coming…

Evelyn looked down at the bright yellow skirt extending from beneath Sammy’s grey sweatshirt. He called it her Morton Salt dress and said she reminded him of the girl on the container when she wore it. “Thank you,” she said, self-consciously tugging the hem down over the white tights of her knees and smoothing out the fabric against her lap. She could feel Mara’s eyes following the movement of her hands.

9.    Song: “The Unforgiven”

Artist: Metallica (fifth album)

Lyrics: “Never free. Never me. So I dub thee unforgiven.”

From Chapter Eight: (No comment.)

The only sound now was the rhythmic chunk of the shovel in the ground, the hiss of dirt off the blade, and the thump of it landing outside the deepening pit. The hole began to take on an oblong shape, and eventually he was standing knee deep in it. Chunk, hiss, thump. Just beneath these sounds, Evelyn thought she heard him say something to her, until she realized he was singing to himself, tunelessly at first, but steadily gaining in volume.

           

10. Song: “La La La”

Artist: Naughty Boy - feat. Sam Smith (Hotel Cabana)

Lyrics: “I’m covering my ears like a kid. When your words mean nothing I go, la la la.”

From Chapter Eight: (Yes, a lot happens in Chapter Eight)

He gave her a sideways look. “Oh, psychology. Okay, I’ll play. I want a smokin’ hot girlfriend that looks just like Mila Kunis. I want a Chevrolet Corvette Stingray in velocity yellow. I want a house on the beach in LA with one of those infinity pools that look like they go right out into the ocean. And I want—” He was suddenly quiet.

11. Song: “Moaning Lisa Smile”

Artist: Wolf Alice (My Love is Cool)

Lyrics: “She's overachieving, chasing her dreams, And coming down slowly, yeah, it's out of control.”

From Chapter Twelve: Back in the Dean’s Office…

“What you have to understand, Evelyn,” said Tyler, “is that it’s because of what happened to you that I worry. Yes, you are a good student, but you do have a history of risky behaviors. You can’t deny that.” He leaned forward, folding his hands beneath his chin. “Addiction is not something anyone sets out to do, Evelyn. It starts with having a little fun, or just looking for an escape, or just wanting to fit in, but then it owns you, it destroys you and everyone who cares about you, and you can never escape it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Evelyn?”

12. Song: “What Part of Me”

Artist: Low (Ones and Sixes)

Lyrics: “Can’t you see that I’m bleedin' out here? Waking up from a dreamin' out here.”

Chapter Fifteen:

She wanted it to be true with all her being. Her fingers ached for control, itched to hold a pencil, to push and pull and drag those details from the shadowy margins of possibility and fix them permanently on the empty page.

The twin blades of fear and hope seemed to pierce her chest and she gasped, a quick, shuddering breath.

At the sound, her mother turned to look at her, her searching eyes weary with the impossibility of understanding, alive with the same hope. “Bad dream?” she whispered.

She's back......

People say Evelyn Hernandez can make bad things happen to those she doesn’t like.

The rumor at school is that after the varsity quarterback broke her heart, Evelyn Hernandez broke his hand. Then she demolished his car, beat up his girlfriend, and smashed all the windows in his house—or so the story goes. Some say that under the long hair and blunt cut bangs, beneath the cute dresses and colorful tights, and behind the pretty face and big brown eyes … hides a black-hearted, spell-casting, evil witch.

Only Evelyn doesn’t care what people at school say, or think. She couldn’t be happier. Her bullies have been brought to justice, her parents trust her, and she has a boyfriend who adores her. She’s even returned to drawing in her journal … but that’s when the nightmares begin.

Evelyn believes her violent dreams are messages from the future. Something terrible is going to happen at her school and only she can stop it—but how, and at what price?

Read an excerpt from the first chapter.

Now Available

Queens of the Jungle

Re-Appropriating Symbols of Masculinity in YA Literature

Symbolically, animals play an important role in THE REVENGE ARTIST, and one especially reoccurring animal symbol in the book is that of the lion. 

The symbol of the lion is introduced early on in the story when Evelyn’s art teacher, Ms. Shipley, gives the class a presentation on prehistoric cave paintings. Evelyn is captivated by the images, especially those of the lions leaping across the ceiling of the cave. Even more so, Evelyn is empowered by the idea that the cave painters were not painting pictures of past hunts, but using their artistic abilities to influence the success of future ones. “The hunters hunted, but these cave artists had another job,” Ms. Shipley explains. “They could see the future and they could make it happen.” 

Symbols are such powerful storytelling devices because they utilize a common language of imagery, emotion, and understanding that can often communicate volumes with only a single word or phrase. Just as effectively, symbols can convey negative biases and reinforce gender stereotypes without a reader always consciously aware of the messages being sent. 

Traditionally, lions are symbols of power and authority because of their dominance in the animal kingdom; however, because it is the male lion’s role to protect the pride while the females hunt, the lion is often viewed as a symbol of masculinity. As a result, such lion-like qualities as strength and courage are reinforced as exclusively male attributes. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, Evelyn is attracted to the symbol of the lion. She is drawn to these lion-like qualities in others and she aspires to them herself. This becomes evident in her art, in her female role models, and in her choice of friends. 

It is not surprising then, that when the students are asked to paint self-portraits using the theme of masks, Evelyn chooses the image of a little girl wearing a plastic lion’s head, “standing alone in a field of grass, barefoot and wearing a sun dress. Her arms are raised in the air and her little fists are curled like cat paws.” The image celebrates her femininity, while at the same time revealing her inner strength and courage. She is delicate and powerful, gentle and ferocious. As conflicts between Evelyn and her bullies escalate, she struggles with these two sides of herself. And as Evelyn attempts to find her balance, the painting will go on to include the disemboweled corpse of a boy wearing a zebra mask, and eventually an angry mob of villagers with torches and pitchforks. 

Hopefully, the lion symbolism in THE REVENGE ARTIST manages to undermine some of those gender stereotypes about what girls can and can’t be and maybe even openly challenge them a bit. It is Evelyn’s fiercely protective friend Karen that is probably the most outwardly lion-like character in the story. When the girls decide to venture out from their usual lunch spot behind the art rooms and brave the main food court, Karen quickly puts one particular sexual harasser in his place by verbally emasculating him with a very explicit insult traditionally—and anatomically—reserved for the boys. In the jungle that is sometimes high school, Karen definitely shows herself to be one of the dominant animals.

Originally Published: Literature Young Adult Fiction

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EVERNIGHT TEEN!

EVERNIGHT TEEN is celebrating their anniversary this month with a 3^rd Birthday Blog Hop. It’s EVERNIGHT TEEN’s birthday but we're giving out the presents with a Grand Prize of a $100 Amazon gift certificate!

EVERNIGHT TEEN books feature fresh teen fiction that is raw, gritty and real. Whether paranormal, contemporary, sci-fi or suspense, our books are about real issues and pack a strong emotional punch. You’ll find cutting edge fiction that today’s young adults can relate to and will keep you turning the pages long into the night.

I’m proud to be an EVERNIGHT TEEN author. Enjoy this tease from my book, THE REVENGE ARTIST…

Evelyn Hernandez is a high school junior who reads Shakespeare for fun, sews her own dresses, and keeps a sketch journal of her daily life. When varsity quarterback Garvey Valenzuela breaks her heart, she sends him to the emergency room...

Oh yeah... add black magic to her résumé.

The Revenge Artist is the story of a bullied teen who embarks on a dark journey of revenge when she discovers she has the power to make things happen by drawing them.

Excerpt from THE REVENGE ARTIST:

Evelyn Hernandez knew what it was to be invisible, but this was different, this was being ignored ... being avoided. She tried to tell herself it was just her imagination. How many mornings had she walked through the halls of this school feeling exposed and on display? Knowing the redness of her lips, the blunt cut of her bangs, the pleats on her floral print skirt, everything down to the dark hair on her arms was being criticized by a hundred judging eyes. She wondered why they bothered, because the truth was, no one really cared. But there it was: a glance, a turn, a change in volume, a lull in some conversation as she walked by. [continue reading]

Be sure visit each stop on the BLOG HOP for more chances to WIN the GRAND PRIZE of a $100 Amazon Gift Card. You’ll receive bonus entries for commenting on each blog!

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First Time? Pucker Up, Close Your Eyes, and Lean in

The first time we purposefully attempt something almost never produces the best results. Now, I’m not talking about first time experiences like the first time you tried a certain kind of food or the first time you listened to a particular song. No, I mean the first time you tried something that required skill. For example, the coordinated and physically exacting demands of a competitive sport, or the precise and compelling use of written language, or even the subtle and intimate expression of a kiss…you know, something that tends to improve with experience.

While I may never forget my first kiss, it definitely wasn’t my best work. In fact, there are those who might argue (one person in particular) that it shouldn’t even qualify as a kiss. But in my defense, I was terrified! And some things just take practice. Pillows don’t have noses and making out with a mirror doesn’t work because the other person will always lean in the same direction. And no, I couldn’t watch a YouTube video or check out a wikiHow with pictures. None of that was available back then.

Anyway, it was a goodnight kiss after a dance in the school gym. I got the head-tilt right and I succeeded in not breaking her nose, but I did aim a little high and only managed to touch down briefly in that very soft place just above her top lip. A do-over would have been nice, but had I been self-confident enough to ask for one I guess I probably wouldn’t have missed her mouth in the first place, right?    

That was my freshmen year. By the time I kissed the woman who would eventually become my wife, well, let’s just say I’d been doing my homework. I had practiced. That kiss—like falling forward in slow motion—was pure magic.

That’s the frightening thing about first times, isn’t it? The first time you had to speak in public. The first time the coach put you in the game. The first time you performed in front of an audience. The first time you submitted the manuscript of your novel to a publisher. It’s not only the fear that your first attempt at something might result in an epic fail, but it’s knowing that even if a first time is exceptionally successful—if you ever plan on doing it again—it probably won’t be your best work. Chances are, with practice, you will get better at it.

Last year was full of firsts for me. As an author, I published my first young adult novel. As an educator, I published my first professional article, a syndicated piece that appeared in several print and online publications including Time.com. In between, I published my first blog essay, then I published another, and another, and soon I was guest blogging on other people’s sites. It seemed I was a teacher who had suddenly also become a writer, overnight…but of course, that really wasn’t the case.

I’ve been at this for several years. The manuscript of my very first completed novel is safely tucked away on a shelf somewhere in my house. After a few rejections, I decided to call it a learning experience and move on to something else. My next big project was a graphic novel. After numerous rejections, that one also ended up on the shelf (although, I haven’t given up on it entirely). And before the manuscript of my second attempt at a novel was eventually accepted, it had been rejected more times than I’d like to remember. But I kept at it, continuing to revise and rework it until a publisher finally decided to take a chance on me and invest in my story. So, you see, I’ve had many firsts…I’ve been practicing.

But then, just months after my book’s release last year the publisher went out of business and—poof—it was gone. By then I’d written the sequel. Now there were two books in the series and no publisher. I had no choice but to start over, to find a new publisher. And so I did.

Talk about asking for a do-over.

Now, with some plot revisions, additional scenes, and a luscious new cover, a new and improved version of my original novel, THE REVENGE ARTIST, is about to be published again…for the first time.

So you see, such first times are necessary rights-of-passage on a lifelong journey of self-improvement. Some you’ll always want to remember and others you’ll never be able to forget, but if you keep at it, keep doing what you love, keep chasing and facing your fears; your life is guaranteed to be full of them.

Yes, first times can be scary, but you just have to go for it…pucker up, close your eyes, and lean in. You’re bound to hit something, and no matter what, it’ll be worth it.

Like Butter Scraped Over Too Much Bread

Oh…wow…it’s been months since my last post! Believe me, I’m still writing…I just haven’t been writing here. The truth is, I’ve spread myself a little thin lately, or as Bilbo Baggins says, “Sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread”—such a foodie, that Hobbit.

So let’s see, besides teaching and marriage…or my marriage to teaching…or my being married to a teacher…or all of the above, and all good…I’ve been building followers and recruiting writers for our school’s Advanced Placement Club blog: onmywaytocollege.blogspot.com.

The blog is a support site for our students with college aspirations, a hub of insights linking them to information on AP courses, colleges, careers, admission tests, financial aid, scholarships, etc. Because the site features a new guest blog every week from school staff, students, and alumni, as well as local professionals and community activists…I stay pretty busy recruiting new writers, editing, and publishing, and so on. Occasionally, I’ll contribute.

Apparently, our students aren’t the only ones reading the blog. Toward the end of the school year, I was contacted by Zócalo Public Square—an organization best described as a not-for-profit Ideas Exchange that blends live events and humanities journalism—and asked to contribute an article. I sent the first draft in just before leaving on vacation and followed up with a few edits and small revisions from the hotel room.  Zócalo published the article, “When PeerPressure Is a Good Thing,” on their website in July, and since they are syndicated, our local newspaper picked it up and published it (pretty dang cool!). And just last week, I googled myself (don’t tell me you’ve never done it), and discovered that Time.com had picked it up as well (double dang cool!). The editors at Zócalo are awesome, and hopefully I’ll get a chance to write for them again.

And…wait for it, wait for it…I finished the sequel to The Revenge Artist! I’m calling it Evelyn Illustrated. It picks up just weeks after the first book left off. So far, only my editors have read it, and both ladies give it the thumbs up—way up.

I’m not sure when anyone else will get to read it though, since the publishers of book #1 went out of business this past April, and I had hoped they were going to publish book #2. My goal right now is to find a new publisher for The Revenge Artist that will want to invest in the series (I’m pretty sure I have at least one more Evelyn Hernandez story in me). For the moment though, both books are in libro limbo, waiting for the right publisher to take a chance on them. Yes, as the Tom Petty song goes, “the wai…ai…ting is the har…dest part,” but since school is going to keep me way too busy to have any time to obsess over it—it’s all good.

That’s because I firmly believe teaching makes me a better writer, and writing makes me a better teacher. I can’t imagine doing one without the other. Case in point: A couple of days ago, one of my students told me she started reading my book. She was only on chapter two, she said, but it was really good so far. I was curious as to where she got her copy, considering it’s no longer available. It turns out it belongs to a friend of hers who also happens to be a former student of mine who graduated about eight years ago. She told me her name, and it took me a moment, but I clearly remembered her: very tall, always smiling, big dimples. What is she doing now, I asked. She graduated with a degree in English and now she's working on her masters in literature, my student said, and...she’s also a writer.

And that, folks…is exactly the kind of fuel that keeps me going.