I dreaded that sneer.

But do you know what? Something changed. Obviously. I started writing it instead. And with the writing came a tiny bit of confidence. I couldn’t tell a story suitable for bedtime. I was sure of it. But I discovered that I could tell one that would make a kid laugh. And hey, what better way to go to bed than laughing? (I know. It’s a ridiculous claim. Calm is better. Duh. But we go with our strengths. We make it do.)

And I discovered that sometimes, I could get a good laugh by telling a true story. I could tell the Kids stories about… the Kids. (I know. Genius.) I could tell the story about the “nose-picking light.” I could tell the story about “have you ever x-rayed a chicken?” I could tell about haircut disasters, and tossing a kid into a dumpster, and spinning a shopping cart until the inevitable vomiting. (Those weren’t all me. Just the dumpster one.) I could tell about “baby bird face” and “pots and pans / In a rock and roll band” and chin stitches and “somebody stole my wife” and “the piano is the joy of my life.” I could tell about “Every day, my head gets bigger!”

And when I told, it mattered. The Kids knew that their stories mattered. Because they were the stories we told. Over and over.

So, guys, I have something cool to tell you about.

It’s a story conference.

That’s a little different from a writing conference, but I bet it will share all the best parts. [1] It’s called Story @ Home, and it’s in Salt Lake City, Friday and Saturday March 9 and 10th. Here’s the cool part: There’s a place for you there. Even if the words “Tell me a story” make your teeth sweat. Because it’s made to cater to people with different kinds of interests. Like this:

There’s a Family History track, full of all kinds of genealogy and personal history stuff that looks mighty intimidating to a person like me, until I realize that I AM TELLING OUR FAMILY’S HISTORY EVERY DAY.

There’s a Storytelling track, full of people who don’t even flinch at the words, “Tell me a story.” Who live and breathe story. Who delight in the sharing. And who want to learn how to do it even better.

And there’s a Blogging track. Where we can find the awesome, the crucial, the totally possible ways to tell our own stories (even if they’re not Absolutely True). [2]

So go over HERE to Cherish Bound’s website and take a look (Cherish Bound is the company presenting the conference). Guys, the tickets for a two-day conference are only $79. That is a STEAL. (Not that we approve of stealing, which we Do Not. Just to clarify.)

The conference is on the lovely Temple Square, and is hosted by FamilySearch, the online genealogy experts. That might make you think that this is for Mormons. But it’s certainly not in any way limited. We like to think of ourselves as a welcoming bunch. And there is good information here for everyone. Even you. And even me. But did you know that zillions and zillions of people use the internet for genealogy searches? And that means that as soon as the FamilySearch people release their tickets, this baby will sell out. So I’m here to tell you that you can go ahead and register right now. And I’ll see you there.

And maybe, just maybe, I can tell you a story.

—

[1] The best parts of a writing conference include awesome presenters giving awesome ideas, and also lunch.

[2] Not that I’ve EVER told a story that wasn’t 100% absolutely true. Somewhere inside the murk in my head.

You know that feeling, the one that you catch a glimpse of yourself in a photo or the mirror or the car window and you gasp and go, “Holy stink, when did I get so old?” The answer is Today. (For me. Not for you. You are not old. Unless you want to be. Which is great with me. Getting older is Some Kind of Blessing, as it certainly beats the alternative.)

Do you want to know what I’ve done in preparation for today? Let’s check my list, shall we?

1. Lose 20 pounds (which would have put me below what I weighed in HS): Nope. Didn’t happen.

2. Get a tan: Nope. Didn’t happen. But I have a good excuse.

3. Buy a cute sundress: Sort of. I have a dress. I bought it months ago, and it’s my standard wear-it-when-I-need-color. But it’s not really new. Nor does it appear, when I wear it, that I managed to accomplish #1. Alas. But it is very bright and pretty. And comfy. Which matters most to me (and says plenty about my crimes of fashion over the length of my life.)

4. Buy great shoes: Nope. How about the comfy 3-year-old sandals? Check.

5. Shave legs: Does yesterday count?

6. Pedicure: I’m counting it. I did it myself, but really, will anyone get THAT close? Let’s hope not.

But despite my utter lack of apparent motivation, I have to say, I’m glad to be going. I loved so many people that I knew in High School. And yes. I know that I use the word “love” easily, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I only went to this high school for a year and a half. But I spread my little heart all over that place. And it came right back to me. As much as there have been days and days over the past few months that I thought “Why in the world would I want to go back to high school?” — this is it: The people I knew there were extremely generous spirits. Even at seventeen, these people cared deeply about things that still matter.

I’m not saying they didn’t also care deeply about that Kevin Bacon movie “Tremors,” I’m just saying they were also capable of sincere, deep love. For each other.

And for a small window of my life, I was one of them.

So off I go, to the Family Picnic part of the party, to smile a lot, to squint out of the corner of my eye at nametags, to solidify my sincere hope that these good kids turned into happy, fulfilled adults. To reconnect. To laugh at memories and to gasp at the wonder that is Right Now.

That’s right — road trip!

Kid 1 and I are off to drive through the desert to party it up in Vegas. (That sounds way more sketchy than it really is. We’re not really the “party it up in Vegas” kind, especially since she’s sixteen.)

We’re going to see Phantom tonight, and then lounge about in DeNae’s pool until she kicks us out.

I hope your week is shaping up to be nearly as great.

Here’s a little reminder that the LDS Storymaker’s Conference registration is open for two more weeks. Deadline is April 15th, so make sure you get over there and sign up. (Yes. Those are linked. Just click to find all wisdom, or to register. I’m here to make your life easier. ) It’s a great conference to come to, with many fine presenters. (What? Yeah, like ME.) Agents. Editors. Many, many lovely writers. Magazine acquisitions. And lunch.

It’s May 6th and 7th in Salt Lake City (with a boot camp on the 5th – sign up! I’ll have treats! and much helpful advice!)

Also, the people in charge sent me a link to this groovy little countdown widget (over there on the left side of my page) and we all know how much I love it when somebody else does the work to get me a groovy little widget. Because although I am capable of many, many things… widgeting is not on the list.

So what are you waiting for? Register today. And come find me there. Let’s talk about books. And, if you want, various other things we love.

Happy weekend!

Nah, me either.

Okay, so it has been nearly a week, and I was hoping that I’d catch up on a whole lot of blog reading (has it really been that long?) but instead I’ve been helping neighbor lady divide some plants, and baking rosemary bread, and working on revisions, and washing copious amounts of blue jeans, and trying to finish “Gone with the Wind” before it’s due back to the library, and making peach jam, and occasionally vacuuming something, and eating as many fresh tomatoes as I can handle, and watching episodes of PSYCH with Husband.

Have we all seen Psych? We should. Netflix. Love it.

Also, I have another appearance to talk about. Barnes and Noble is teaming up with the Murray (Utah) schools, and is having events. We love events. Having events is much pleasanter than having issues. So the events in question are happening next weekend. Thursday night (September 23rd) the Murray B&N is hosting kid-book authors for a book fair and signings. Friday night, they’re hosting teen authors. Nine of us. I only know me. I could ask for a list, but I might grow neurotic at all the surrounding authorial awesomeness and do something stupid like obsess about my shoes or wardrobe instead of just showing up to have a few hours of book-related fun. Visit my appearances page for all kinds of details. Or don’t. But consider yourself invited, either way.

Have I told you the name of my main character in my current project? She’s Ivie. I have (had) a great grandma (she was really Nana) named Ivie. Awesome, huh? Ivie runs. I don’t know if my Nana ran. She fed us Ritz crackers, though, and made driftwood sculptures, and had a heavy, dark curtain on her living room window, which let in slants of dusty light only at the corners. Nana lived on the hill in Oakland California, right down the street from Grandma Jennie. This is all you need to know. Wait – this is a great deal more than you need to know. But you’re welcome, anyway. I have gone past my minimum word-count goal, and I’m still moving forward on it. This is good news. Not that it’s going to be a long book. It’s not. I enjoy writing short-ish books. So I will continue to do so. But this one is slightly less short-ish.

Today is my last day to be 36. Just saying. More on that tomorrow, I believe.

‘Tis time to register for this year’s UVU Book Academy, “Power Up Your Writing”  - a one-day conference packed with classes about getting started, staying focused, getting published, and all that after-pub stuff like marketing and distribution (pardon me while I go brush my teeth again – that promo stuff always makes me throw up in my mouth). It is going to be great. Great.

I’m giving a class on using humor in your writing. Doesn’t that sound fun? Doesn’t it?

Here is the site: Click Here. (ce.uvu.edu/bookacademy) Also, please note that if you register early, you save money, the money with which to buy loads of books by the attending authors. Noted? Excellent. (Also, I hear they give prizes. Free stuff? Count me in!)

So come and play, and for further inducement, here is a list of attending writers and publishing professionals: Brandon Mull, Jeff Savage, Sarah M. Eden, Traci Hunter Abramson, John Brown, Larry Correia, Emily Wing Smith, Julie Bellon, Rob Wells, Heather Moore, Kirk Shaw, Lisa Mangum, Julie Wright, Eliza Nevin, Kelly Smurthwaite, Annette Lyon, Josi Kilpack, Marion Jenson, Barry Reader and Me, Becca Wilhite, to be precise. I have met at least half of these people, and I promise you, they are lovely. So, to sum up, at least a half-lovely group of writers and publishing peeps, one day, books, breakfast AND lunch, free stuff, more books, comedy, tears, top-secret secrets revealed,  and a humor class by Moi. Let’s not miss it, shall we?

August 28th (that’s next Saturday, peeps) – In the morning and afternoon, there’s excellent fun to be had with the ladies and gentlemen from Tooele’s Purple Cow Bookshop. Here’s a link. Today is the last day to buy tickets for the brunch (because who wouldn’t pay to watch me and Lisa Mangum eat?), but there’s big fun all afternoon for free, too. Party from 10:00 till 4:00. (I’ll be there until 1.)

Later in the day (but also earlier, if you see what I mean) there’s the KSL Book Festival. That one goes from 10:00 – 6:00, and I’ll be there at 3:30, talking it up and laughing at my own jokes. Teen stage. Be there. Bring confetti. (At the risk of going all fangirl, I have to tell you that Avi presents at 12:30. While I’m in Tooele. I’ll be having a great time, but if Tooele is out of the question, get yourself up to the University of Utah campus for some Avi. I know.)

Then there’s this: If you’re a writer, or a reader, or a teacher, librarian, bookstorian, or even if you’re not, there’s the Book Academy at UVU. It’s a one-day conference on September 30th, jam-packed with great classes and lectures. I’m teaching about comedy, natch. (That was not irony. Not at all.) The bedimpled Brandon Mull is keynoting. Keynoting is a word. Bedimpled, apparently not.

So do you want to come do stuff with me? Because it’s fun. And we lurve fun.

Are you worried? I was, just a little.

Turns out that thanks to my ridiculously large pupils, he could check me out without putting those manga-inducing eyedrops in, and I’m fine. No retinal detatchment. Just a migrane. Oh, that’s funny. Symptoms can be precisely the same. So as if having a migraine wasn’t pleasant enough, I can now worry that I’m also going blind. I think I should stop doing manual labor. Agreed?

Here’s where I am now: In Mrs. Garloch’s awesome Honors classes Tuesday and Wednesday. We talk books and writing and publishing and creating and reading and eating cupcakes and post-apocalyptic zombie mermaids. We’re having fun. At least I am having fun. Mrs. Garloch loves Shakespeare and at least two of my kids, so she has my eternal devotion. Even though she prefers chocolate to buttered popcorn.

And Thursday? I’m signing books at the BYU Women’s Conference. I’ll be in the bookstore from 11:00 until 1:00, and then I’m going to eat sushi with my friend H. Hooray for book signings! Hooray for H! Hooray for sushi!

(And I need to explain the sugar content of yesterday’s post: I am no longer “off” sugar. I’m half-off. I’m trying to be more a nibbler than an inhaler. I ate just enough of that breakfast-dessert goodness to last me most of the day. Until I had a lemon bar for dessert. And nothing yet today, thanks.)

Where are you?

I will be at the remarkable King’s English Bookshop in Salt Lake City tomorrow (April 6th, as in the Sixth of APRIL) at 6:00, along with several other awesome authors (who I don’t actually know, but trust me, by tomorrow night we’ll all be BFF).

So if you’re in the neighborhood (15th South, 15th East), come say hi!

And something funny happened.

By funny, I mean… odd. Strange. Well, I’ll just tell you.

This really nice lady who was there being an author talked about being a young girl and wanting to write. What she loved was Historical Romance. Swoony period stuff. She was so excited to write and share that she took a manuscript to her grandmother. She was in sixth grade. The writer. Not the grandma. So her grandma read over her work and said to her, “Why in the world are you writing this kind of trash?” I know, right? Heartbreaking, soul-crushing, disastrous. But what this woman learned (eventually, I’m guessing) is that you can’t listen to critics. Criticism kills. I’m totally with her at this point. Nodding my head and everything.

Then.

She introduced her daughter, also working at  being a writer. And she said that this daughter (maybe she was in High school, at least that’s how old she looked to me) is really into paranormal romance. Actually, she said “vampire love fiction” and she said it with a Very Noisy Sneer in her voice. And then she actually said, “I hate that stuff. Hate it. I won’t read what she’s writing.”

And didn’t even seem to sense the irony.

Part of me wanted to laugh. Because, duh. She is her own grandmother. But another, bigger, maybe more sensitive part of me said, wow. That is so, so sad. She has no idea what she is doing. She has no idea that she is criticizing a whole genre, and more importantly, a very important person (hello, her own child!) for participating in it. She sneered at her for reading it. For writing it. I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from walking over to that daughter and saying, “Hey, guess what. Lots of people like the thing you do. And maybe it’s a phase. But write it anyway if it’s in your head and in your heart, because maybe you’ll come out of this phase a better writer than you went into it, and someone (even if it isn’t your mom) will read and like some of the work you do.”

But of course, I didn’t say any of it, and that’s probably because it’s none of my business. But hey, writers? If you’re writing something someone thinks is dumb, or overdone, or lame, or copy-catty, or fluffy, or too pop-u-lar, here’s what to remember.

1. Writing (writing anything) makes  you a better writer. Write. Write. Write.

2. Criticism kills. Don’t let it kill your important relationships.

3. If you love it, write it. Because nobody else’s love is going to validate your writing like your own love will.

End of lecture. But I just have to wonder, what am I doing that I totally miss on a regular basis? What deep ironies of my character are invisible in the mirror?