My Dream Ninja Assignment!

As part of the NINJA LIBRARIAN blog tour my assignment this week was to name which historical figure would I like to be an apprentice for? What would I like to learn from them?

One word, Cleopatra.

pinterest.com

Why?

She was Egypt's last queen, invented many health and beauty treatments that are still used today, (mascara for one), and was the only person capable of keeping Egypt from falling to the Romans.

She fought off a brother and saved her country by swooning Julius Caesar and combining their armies. When Caesar died, Cleopatra had to flee Rome as rumors of her involvement in his death threatened her own demise.

But she didn't cower.

Mark Anthony was set to arrest her, instead...well, let's just say she gave birth to twins the following year.

She was a warrior, a scientist, a fierce leader, and has inspired generations of playwrights, artists, and archaeologists. Perhaps the most alluring part of Cleopatra is that her tomb has never been found. She died a prisoner of Octavian, supposedly after Mark Antony died in her arms. Loyal slaves smuggled in a poisonous snake at her request, so she could take her own life with its bite.

It is believed that Octavian still revered his queen and granted her the wish to be buried secretly with Mark Antony, where tomb raiders would never find them.

They still haven't.

I don't know what I'd want to learn for Cleopatra, but following her around for a day would be AWESOME!!!! 


Here are some of my other assignments which totally deserved an A+...

What animal I would take with me if I was going on an adventure? Easy peasy!

Top ten scenes from a book that I'd want to experience.

Top ten items I'd steal, borrow from books. Number one? Nancy Drew's blue convertible. Oh, yeah!

Jen Swank Downey's smart, sassy, action packed middle grade adventure is now available!

Check out webpage here. In addition to a wonderful blog trailer, the webpage contains fantastic downloadables for Ninja Librarian fans, such as an Educator Guide, Mission Activity Kit, and a special Guide to Petrarch’s Library!

You can BUY The Ninja Librarians here.

 

Find Jen on facebook, twitter, and her website.

 

Which historical figure would you like to apprentice for?

 

 

First Chapter Reveal for THE NINJA LIBRARIANS

In The Ninja Librarians,  Dorrie and Marcus accidentally bring along Moe, a mongoose, on their adventure (Well, okay, more like they follow him to the mysterious room). 

As part of the NINJA LIBRARIAN blog tour my assignment this week was to name what animal I would take with me if I was going on an adventure?
 
Easy peasy!

Hedwig, Boots the monkey, that big flying dog-thing from The Never Ending Story, Puff the Magic Dragon, Lassie, Cruickshanks, all three Wonder Pets, Fawkes, Black Beauty, any unicorn, the sparrow from The Happy Prince, Winnie the Pooh and Piglet too!

Wait...what? Just one?!

Oh. *hangs head*

Next week I have to tell you which historical figure I would you like to be an apprentice for? What I'd like to learn from them (or get from them). Stay tuned.

Here are some of my other assignments which totally deserved an A+...

Top ten scenes from a book that I'd want to experience.

Top ten items I'd steal, borrow from books. Number one? Nancy Drew's blue convertible. Oh, yeah!

Jen Swann Downey's smart, sassy, action packed middle grad adventure hits stores on April 15!

Check out webpage here. In addition to a wonderful blog trailer, the webpage contains fantastic downloadables for Ninja Librarian fans, such as an Educator Guide, Mission Activity Kit, and a special Guide to Petrarch’s Library!

You can pre-order Ninja Librarians here.

 

Find Jen on facebook, twitter, and her website.

 

AND, don't leave yet. Below is the FIRST CHAPTER.

 

WARNING! You will be hooked and unable to read further until April 15th. Proceed with caution.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Books and Swords

T

welve--year--old Dorothea Barnes was thoroughly un--chosen, not particularly deserving, bore no marks of destiny, lacked any sort of criminal genius, and could claim no supernatural relations. Furthermore, she’d never been orphaned, kidnapped, left for dead in the wilderness, or bitten by anything more bloodthirsty than her little sister.

 

Don’t even begin to entertain consoling thoughts of long flaxen curls or shiny tresses black as ravens’ wings. Dorrie’s plain brown hair could only be considered marvelous in its ability to twist itself into hopeless tangles. She was neither particularly tall or small, thick or thin, pale or dark. She had parents who loved her, friends enough, and never wanted for a meal. So why, you may wonder, tell a story about a girl like this at all?

 

Because Dorrie counted a sword among her most precious belongings. Yes, it was only a fake one that couldn’t be relied upon to cut all the way through a stick of butter, but Dorrie truly and deeply desired to use it. Not just to fend off another staged pirate attack at Mr. Louis P. Kornberger’s Passaic Academy of Swordplay and Stage Combat (which met Tuesdays behind the library after Mr. Kornberger finished work there) but, when the right circumstances arose, to vanquish some measure of evil from the world.

 

Dorrie regarded every opportunity to prepare for that moment as a crucial one, and the Passaic Public Library’s annual Pen and Sword Festival—always bursting with costumed scribblers and swashbucklers—afforded, in her strongly-held opinion, one of the best. On its appointed day, she pounded down the wide battered staircase of her home long before the rising sun finished gilding the rusty dryer that sat, for lost reasons, on top of it. She did so in the one tall purple boot she could find, dragging her duffel bag behind her.

 

At the bottom, in the vast chamber that had once served as a ballroom, Dorrie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung over a bureau by the back door, and hiked up her wide leather belt. She had buckled it over a hideous, electric-blue-and-black-striped suit jacket with ripped-out sleeves that Dorrie’s father swore he had worn proudly out in public in a bygone era. Underneath it, a shirt with great puffy sleeves and dangling cuffs screamed "pirate" loudly and well. After taking a moment to tug on the hem of the moth-eaten velvet skirt that was meant to hang to her knees but had got caught in the waistband of her underwear, she glowered into the mirror, her sword aloft. Despite the missing boot, the overall effect pleased her.

 

"Yo ho, Calico Jack," called her father. "Put this back in Great--Aunt Alice’s sitting room, will you?"

Dorrie looked away from the mirror to see her father, holding a tiny carved owl. He wore a ruffled, candy-striped apron that read, "You Breaka My Eggs, I Breaka Your Fast". With his free hand he was stirring a pot of glopping oatmeal in the part of the old ballroom the Barnes called "The Kitchen". Other parts of the once grand chamber served as "The Living Room", "The Office", "The Rehearsal Hall" for Dorrie’s fourteen-year-old drum-pounding brother, Marcus, and "The Playroom" for Miranda, Dorrie’s four-year-old sister.

 

Dorrie made her way to her father across one of the dozen rugs bought cheap from thrift stores currently living out their end days beneath the daily burden of ill-conceived art projects, the occasional mislaid plate of scrambled eggs, and books. Heaps and hills and hoards of books. Books left open on the back of the sway-backed sofa and under the piano, on the top of the toaster and hanging from the towel rack.

 

"Miranda borrowed it," he said, dropping the carved owl into Dorrie’s outstretched hand. Dorrie gave her father "a look." Her sister had a deeply ingrained habit of "borrowing" things. Dorrie set off for Great--Aunt Alice’s sitting room, which lay on the other side of the deteriorating mansion.

Great--Aunt Alice had invited Dorrie’s family to live with her two years ago when her sprawling home had become too much to care for by herself.

 

Besides the ballroom and a few bedrooms, the rest of the mansion was her territory. Just as shabby, she kept it spare and clean and orderly. Great--Aunt Alice claimed the Barnes side of the house gave her fits of dizziness.

 

After Dorrie set the owl back on its shelf in Great--Aunt Alice’s empty sitting room, the thick hush tempted her to tuck her sword beneath an arm and open a little stone box that stood beside the owl. Inside lay an old pocket watch and a silver bracelet set with a cloudy black stone.

 

The doorbell rang, and Great--Aunt Alice’s voice in the marble--floored hallway made Dorrie’s hand jerk so that the box’s lid fell closed with a small clack.

 

Hurriedly, Dorrie pushed the box back onto the shelf. Then, in a silly horror at the thought of Great--Aunt Alice—-who often seemed as remote and unfathomable as a distant planet—-catching her snooping, she wrenched open the lid of a cavernous wicker trunk that stood against the wall and scrambled inside, sword and all. She pulled the heavy lid down on top of her. It bounced on her fingers, trapping them, just as Great--Aunt Alice hobbled into the room. Dorrie sucked in her breath, the pain making her eyes water. She heard the sitting--room door close.

 

"Well, did he see you go in?" asked Great--Aunt Alice.

 

"Oh, he doesn’t have the imagination to suspect," said a young woman breathlessly.

 

Dorrie pressed her eyes to the gap made by her swiftly swelling fingers. Amanda, Dorrie’s favorite librarian at the Passaic Public Library after Mr. Kornberger, stood now, inexplicably, just inside Great--Aunt Alice’s sitting--room door. Everything about Amanda Ness was long. Her skirts, her hundred braids which hung down below her shoulders, and her nose—-which had been given the usual infant inch and had taken a mile. If a long temper was the opposite of a short one, well, she had that too.

 

"You should be more careful," said Great--Aunt Alice, stopping at her writing desk. She smoothed a few white hairs back toward the tight bun at the back of her head. "Has anything changed?"

 

"Not yet," said Amanda, sitting down on the edge of a little pale--blue sofa.

 

"No. Of course not," said Great--Aunt Alice, easing herself down into a straight--backed chair. "It’s patently absurd that we’re even discussing the possibility."

 

Amanda looked vaguely hurt.

 

"I don’t know what I’ve been thinking," said Great--Aunt Alice. "Sneaking around in there like a thief these past weeks."

 

Amanda clasped her hands together. "You were thinking that the stories might be true!"

 

Dorrie listened so hard that she could almost feel her ears trying to creep away from her head.

 

Great--Aunt Alice picked lint from a sweater hung on the back of the chair. "Well, I’m a foolish old woman." She caught Amanda staring at her. "Oh now, don’t look so disappointed."

 

"Give it more time!" pleaded Amanda. "He said he wasn’t sure how long it might take."

 

Great--Aunt Alice absently toyed with a little jar of pens on her desk. "I’m ashamed that I believed even for a moment in the possibility."

 

In her wonder at the thought that Great--Aunt Alice could believe in anything fantastical for even the briefest of moments, Dorrie barely felt the wicker strands of the trunk embedding themselves in her knees. After all, Great--Aunt Alice had frowned disapprovingly when Miranda asked her to clap her hands so that Tinkerbell wouldn’t die.

 

Amanda leaned toward Great--Aunt Alice. "But it’s obvious that something special is supposed to happen there." Dorrie held her breath so as not to miss a single word. The conversation positively bulged with mysterious possibilities.

 

"It’s obvious my father wanted something special to happen," Great--Aunt Alice corrected. "My believing that it will happen is as ridiculous as Dorothea believing that she’s going to corner modern evil with a sword."

 

At the mention of her name, Dorrie nearly lost her grip on the sword in question and had to scrabble to keep it from falling noisily to the floor of the trunk. There was a moment of silence during which Dorrie felt certain that Amanda and Great--Aunt Alice could hear the small cave-in taking place in the general vicinity of her heart, but her great-aunt only sniffed and began to talk about Mr. Scuggans, the new director of the Passaic Public Library, calling him insufferable.

 

Dorrie began to breath again in shallow little huffs. Ridiculous! She turned the stinging word over in her mind. Dorrie had never stopped to think about whether her desire to wield a sword against the villains of the world was sensible or ridiculous. It just was. She squeezed the hilt of her sword, drawing strength from it until the crumbling hollow feeling in her chest faded a little.

 

The conversation outside the basket had turned to the difficulty of cleaning the library’s gutters, and stuck there for what seemed like an excruciating eternity until, at last, Great--Aunt Alice showed Amanda out. Dorrie, her heart pounding, slipped from her wicker prison, and back through the double doors that led into her family’s side of the house.

Top Ten Book Scenes I'd LOOOOVE to Experience

Last week, I made a top ten list of favorite items I'd steal from books. Number one? Nancy Drew's blue convertible. Oh, yeah!

Now please enjoy...

Top Ten Scenes I'd Like LOOOOVE to Experience.

1. Mr. Darcy proposes to Elizabeth and she turns him down. BAM!

2. Every Christmas feast at Hogwarts.


3. When Anne hits Gilbert Blythe over the head with the slate. I'd holler from the back of the school house, "Go, redheads!"

4. The entire fifteenth chapter of THE PRISONER of AZKABAN when Harry wins the quidditch cup by beating Slytherin. AWESOME!!!


5. To be alongside Lucy when she walks through the wardrobe for the first time. Narnia!


6. Being rocked by Aunt Beast in A WRINKLE IN TIME. (I love a good nap in space.)

7. Front row at the Reaping Ceremony. When Primrose's name is called, I'd volunteer before Katniss, and therefore Peeta would fall in love with me....and Katniss can have Gale or whatever.


8. Go to the chocolate factory with Charlie and Grandpa Joe, then eat candy grass, mushrooms and tea cups with Willy Wonka.

 

9. When Elizabeth Bennet has the showdown with Lady Catherine de Bourgh in the garden.

"He is a gentleman and I'm a gentleman's daughter, therefore we are equal."

How Elizabeth kept her wits in this scene is beyond commendable.


10. When Laura Ingalls sees Almanzo Wilder for the first time in THE LONG WINTER. *heart swells* Even though she was more smitten with his friend, Cap Garland...still, I smile every time.

What are some of your favorite scenes?

Top Ten Items I'd Steal From My Favorite Books

 

1. Nancy Drew's blue convertible. And a picnic basket in the backseat full of homemade snacks from Hannah would be nice too.

2. The violin case from The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. I would fill it with chocolate bars.

3. The goose from Jack and the Beanstalk because you can never have enough golden eggs.

4. The conch shell from Lord of the Flies so I can be the speaker and have all the attention.

5. Laura Ingalls' lunch pail from Little House on the Prairie. I've always loved the image. Plus, it would be handy when collecting all those golden eggs.

6. The invisibility cloak from Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.

Think of the sneaking around you can do! Be careful of eavesdropping though, sometimes you don't want to hear what others really think of you (especially Professor Snape).

7. Pixie dust from Peter Pan and Wendy.

Imagine having the ability to fly without aid from a broomstick or a magic carpet!
Rush hour traffic? Not for you. Late for a date? No worries. Need to get to class before the bell rings? Easy peasy.

8. The Everlasting Gobstopper from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

It's candy. No explanation needed.



photo credit, whenfallsthecoliseum.com

9. The blade from The Subtle Knife.

Slice through parallel universes and bend the space/time continuum? Sure, okay. Plus, I bet you can make a salad in seconds.

10. Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice.

Since it's my blog, I'll bloody well put him here if I want. And yes, I want Mr. Darcy.


What item would you like to take from a book?

Ninja Librarians? Yes. They exist and They're Awesome

My bosom buddy in the writing world, Jen Swann Downey, is launching her debut middle grade action adventure novel, THE NINJA LIBRARIANS: THE ACCIDENTAL KEYHAND.

The Ninja Librarians

Coming from Sourcebooks Jabberwocky April 15, 2014

Twelve-year-old Dorothea Barnes can hold her own in any fake Renaissance Faire sword-fight, but she despairs of ever finding something more important to do with her sword. Then she stumbles into Petrarch's Library, the sprawling headquarters of a secret society of librarians. Ninja librarians.

The Library's wings stretch into every century that has passed since the invention of the written word. The librarians who serve it pursue an important mission: Protect those whose words have gotten them in trouble. They pull heretics off of stakes in fourteenth century Spain, track down stolen manuscripts through the wilds of ancient Persia, and maneuver always against those who prefer to control the flow of ideas and information for their own gain.

Dorrie wants nothing more than to be allowed to stay and apprentice with these unusual librarians. Some of them, however, fear Dorrie has connections to the Foundation, an old and ruthless enemy. The Library's Director of Security would like to send Dorrie home and permanently close the door on the twenty-first century behind her. When a traitor arises from within the Library, events pull Dorrie into a pivotal role. But in order to save Petrarch's Library, she may have to erase herself from its history, forever.

 

Check out the trailer here.

You can pre-order Ninja Librarians here.

Find Jen on facebook, twitter, and her website.

 

And stayed tuned because awesome Ninja Librarian swag is to follow in the next few weeks... 

 

Jen stopped by (virtually) for a quick interview. She looked great and smelled nice.

What inspired you to write The Ninja Librarians?

Many things! Picture a tornado with its load of cows and corrugated roofing and origami swans. (Tornados are packed with origami swans) My love for librarians, my magpie obsession with history. A picture of a girl at a Renaissance Faire. But mostly, a mental image of a sprawling library connecting up different times and places. I love libraries (as in shiver and palpitate for them) and the kid (eh-hem, and adult) in me continues to enjoy imagining exploring and sleeping and waking in an endless varied dusty shining accidental-secret-filled magical one.  

 

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

 

In my mid twenties, when I was short of rent money and sense, I tossed off some truly AWFUL picture book manuscripts, thinking that I could "you know" make a quick sale and solve my rent problem, if not my sense problem. (of which I was, naturally, entirely unaware). These manuscripts had "messages". Big fat messages with just enough story spackled between the individual neon letters to hold them together.  Terrible! There's nothing less enjoyable than a message disguised as a story. In my older humble opinion, meaning (and message) must spring out of story.

That said, if readers, along with Dorrie begin to get a palpable sense of the courage it has taken (takes) in many times and places for individuals to simply express their opinions, I won't be sad.

 

What was the hardest scene to write (no spoilers!)?

 

 

Well, judging from the number of times I RE-wrote the scene, I'd have to say the beginning! The whole first two chapters really. There were so many strands of the story to set in motion, clues to plant, relationships to paint, and Dorrie's state of mind to convey, all while trying to balance that against the need to get the story moving and the reader properly invited in, and settled on the edge of a seat with a mug of cocoa perched precariously on lap.

 

Which character do you relate to the most? Why?

 

Well I suppose I'm sort of split. Not to be predictable but as a first time novelist. Eh-hem. Er. Young timeless remembered me feels deeply for Dorrie's desire to have agency and a means to defend those she cares about in a world where dark threatening shadows are sensed if not seen in their detail every day.  Older, occasionally reflective me, running a family zoo, and trying to make best most responsible choices in an imperfect world probably relates most to Hypatia and her efforts to keep the immediate "family" working and functioning together and trying to make that be a good thing for the larger world. Most everyday me relates mostly to Phillip and his desire to eat the most he can of the next good thing.

 

Outside of family, what was the greatest support while you wrote this novel? 

Besides you? ; )  And my willing critiquing victims? (May they enjoy their freedom and peace until I'm done with the first draft of Book 2) I'd have to say....my favorite children's authors. Whenever I felt lost or unsure of my craft, I would pick up books by Eva Ibbotson, and Dodie Smith, Lloyd Alexander, Terry Pratchett, and Betty MacDonald. Sometimes the point would be to sink with vivifying pleasure into their delicious story-telling. And sometimes I'd be studying just how they'd managed to accomplish what they did. The pacing, the conveying of character, the braiding of funny and serious, etc.

 

Do you have any advice for other writers?

 

That isn't already out there? Let's see...Always seat yourself on a thumbtack when commencing writerly work....

No, stop! Don't! My real advice?

Take your writing seriously in the good way. Give it your regular attention. Make it your work. Protect your work time, work place. Build your manuscript bit by bit, day by day.

I know some people love to jump "write" in with the drafting, and it really works for a subset of those people ; ) but, consider doing your plotting up front.

 

Consider giving yourself lots of extra time to plot up front. Consider, investing in an index card company. Really. Buy some company stock. Then buy some cards. Lots of cards. So that you never have to be stingy with them. So that if you wanted you could pave a mile of interstate with them.

 

Write out your progressions of plot points on them for various character or plot arcs. Capture your random ideas. "Oooh, her pencil should have a clown head eraser on it!". Capture your questions about character motives.

 

Capture all those little ideas for interactions, character tics, scraps of dialogue. Why? Because index cards can be shuffled, easily organized, easily boxed, easily arranged and re-arranged, easily pinned to foamboards, or laid out in great narrative lines on your living room floor. Be friends with index cards!

Set a word count goal for yourself every day you intend to draft. Not "I'm going to write for two hours" but "I'm going to write 750 words today".  Force yourself to meet it even if you have to hurry and some of the sentences don't exactly make sense.

Don't edit yourself as you're drafting. Think of drafting and self-editing as two absolutely distinct processes. Invite your first draft to suck. Dare yourself to let it. Play.

When you're stuck...WALK!  You'd be amazed what plot knots will unravel, and what character development revelations that will blossom when you walk. Which will be great, because your pockets will be stuffed with blank index cards, and you'll have a pen in your hand. Never leave home without them. You will only remember the tiniest percentage of what you conjured on your walk, or at the grocery store, or on the drive home if you wait until you're home to try to get it down.

When you think you're done revising and its ready to share with agents and editors, let that be a sign that its not. Give yourself at least a week away from the manuscript, preferably two. Revise. Rinse and Repeat. At least three times.

Lastly? Don't let worries about a perceived genius deficit  or "writer unworthiness" keep you from starting or finishing a book. Just be a person committing to writing a beginning, a middle, and an end. Unlike genius, its easy to tell whether you have one of each of those, or you don't. 

 

FAST FIVE

What did you have for supper last night?

Baked fish. It didn't go well. Never use a recipe off of the internet that calls for cooking spray.
 

Is there an actor who you think looks like your MC?

Well the real question is.....do I know the name of any kid actors? Or any actors under 30 for that matter! Here's a picture. I got off the internet. I had to watch a thirty second advertisement for the privilege! I'd say that's about how I imagine Dorrie....

 

Vanilla or chocolate?

Chocolate. Even if there was only vanilla in the world.

 As a little kid, what did you want to be be when you grew up?What didn't I want to be! But most often.....a spy.

Last book you read.

Suffrage Days: Stories from the Women's Suffrage Movement. Because in Book Two....: )

Thanks, Jen!