I'm getting on an airplane this afternoon! And, miraculously, almost everything I needed to get done is done! Yay! Hopefully I'll be able to post every so often, but definitely look for updates on Pinterest and Twitter!
See you after June 10th!
|I took this from the top of the Empire State Building in 2007.|
Seventeen-year-old Majesty Alistair wants police to look further into her father's fatal car wreck, hopes the baseball team she manages can reclaim the state crown, aches for Derek...or, no...maybe Alec...maybe. And she mostly wishes to retract the hateful words she said to her dad right before slamming the door in his face, only to never see him again.
All her desires get sidelined, though, when she overhears two fellow students planning a church massacre. She doubts cops will follow up on her tip since they're sick of her coming around with notions of possible crimes-in-the-works. And it's not like she cries wolf. Not really. They'd be freaked too, but they're not the ones suffering from bloody dreams that hint at disaster like some crazy, street guy forecasting the Apocalypse.
So, she does what any habitual winner with zero cred would do...try to I.D. the nutjobs before they act. But, when their agenda turns out to be far bigger than she ever assumed, and even friends start looking suspect, the truth and her actions threaten to haunt her forever, especially since she's left with blood on her hands, the blood of someone she loves.
COURTNEY VAIL writes totally twisted YA and adult suspense. She enjoys braiding mystery, suspense & romance with some kind of weirdness. Her addictions to crazy coffee concoctions, Funny Bones, Ben & Jerry's, and bacon keep her running and writing. She currently lives in New England with a comedian stud and a wild gang of kidlets.
If you like weird books, you can follow Courtney Vail at:
|A sampling of pieces I've made recently.|
Dear Most Exalted Shark of Snark:Am I the only one who kinda wants to read a book written by the character who wrote this query? Love it!
JOHN SMITH (who's a girl, but her parents wanted a boy so they named her John, even though it's totally misleading because she's gorgeous with fiery red and orange tresses the color of autumn leaves, and sparkling forest green eyes that glisten with secrets) is the best friend of Aphrodite Pantaloonacy, who is actually our protagonist.
In a blinding fit of rage, John Smith (whom Aphro has nicknamed Elvis) runs off to Iceland, to better escape the ghosts of her past and the pitfalls of her own artistic temperament. While there, she plays ice hockey. They're's*** also an Amusing Scene with a Turkish ghost on holiday taking a bath (Turkish baths, etc.). But one day, when the sky churns with storms and across the see Aphrodite has a terribly chilling feeling of icy foreboding, Elvis falls down a
rabbitweasel hole, killing her instantly.
In order to deal with her crushing grief, Aphro and the tortured-soulled boyfriend of Elvis, Maisie (who is actually a boy but his parents wanted a girl so they named him Maisie, go figure right?) flee to the mystical land of
Genovia Canada Barbecuasia. It is a place where dragons roam free and the cursed are damned. Where blood can flow quick and fast or slow and at a snail's pace. It is here that Maisie and Aphro can find their dreams. It is here that Aphro can finally confront her destiny.
Since birth Aphro has had a birthmark in the shape of a question mark right in the middle of her snowy forehead. It is a gift from the Barbecuasian gods signifying that she is her mother's daughter. What this means, only Maisie can discover, because of the key his grandfather gave him that he's always carried around his neck that opens the chest where the true powers of Lord Carbunkle dwell.
Aphro, Maisie, the ghost of Elvis, Dandelion, Alkaline, Mjehrithuuqreaei, a baby, a snaggle-toothed troll, a shark with a devastating scents of humor, all these characters and more go on a piercing and heart/gut-wrenching journey of self-discovery and what it means to be a human. Also tacos.
As your eyes pour over each and every carefully selected word (you tell us to edit a lot so boy did I!) I know you will guffaw with laughter (The book is funny). You may even maybe snicker and chortle and giggle and titter and then maybe cackle a bit but only at the funny parts. The serious parts are the parts where I am fully and fervently convinced you will boohoo. I tested this out on test readers (ages 7-84) and there was so much boohooing that I "drifted away on a sea of beautiful tears" (Rosemary, age 67, Tulsa, Oklahoma).
I would be so honored if you would consider reading my 350,842 1/2 (people get interrupted mid-word sometimes) word gritty crime novel work of fiction, the first in a series of seventeen tomes sure to rival the epic sagas of Larry McMurtry, William Shakespeare, Homer [Simpson] and Barbara Walters. It is a compelling work of staggeringly-employed metafores in the timely and bestselling genre of young adult thriller hipster communist manifesto. It is rated X for explicit sex scenes.
I sent a joke once to a joke magazine and they printed my joke (I have included the magazine and highlighted the page for your convenience). Literature is my passion and I have named all my cats after literary characters. Please do not tell me that you do not have the time to read my manuscript, since I know where you live and I see that you stay up very very late at night reading, and there really isn't any reason you couldn't be up reading my stuff too.
Ever faithfully yours,
(name redacted) aka (pen name redacted)
We need her.Before school let out for winter break, Chloe was on top of the world. She and her two best friends were inseparable--and ultra popular--and she'd been crowned Mistletoe Ball Queen. Her Junior Independent Study Project (JISP) had been approved on the lives of soap opera villenesses and she could always make her friends laugh. But then, for no apparent reason, everything completely falls apart. Her best friends hate her and start spreading vicious lies through the school, the old guidance counselor retires and the new one un-approves Chloe's JISP, and her beloved Grams starts to succumb to her Parkinsons disease. Desperate for a new JISP--because it's the only problem she seems able to fix--Chloe ends up at the school-run radio station, KDRS. The only problem? No one wants her there. These kids, all outsiders of the school's social order, have formed their own little family and newcomers aren't exactly welcomed with open arms. But Chloe doesn't have any other options and the KDRS kids can't say no. The only one who doesn't seem to hate her is the radio's fix-it guy Duncan who is incredibly cute, but about as taciturn as Chloe is talkative. Can Chloe work her magic and put all the pieces of her life back together or do some things that break stay broken forever?
When you've been out in an ocean, stung by jellyfish, battered by waves, and circled by sharks in frosty pink lipstick, you grab the first life preserver tossed your way.
We need her.
I faced every member of KDRS radio staff. I wasn't naked. I wasn't alone. And according to Duncan, I was needed.
Almost. Almost.It's been three years and Jess Jordan still isn't over something that technically didn't happen. She barely even remembers that night, but what she does remember is just enough to give her nightmares every time she falls asleep in the dark. Her solution? Don't sleep at night. Instead, she uses her Jeep to catch catnaps whenever she has some spare time. The silence in the house at night helps convince her parents everything is getting back to "normal," but they're not ready to let her move out at the end of her senior year unless she can prove it. Her sister's solution? Get a job, get some friends, get a boyfriend. So that's what Jess is trying to do--land an internship at the headquarters of Geekstuff.com. The only problem? She's not the only one they're considering.
How I hate that word and the way it defines me.
Almost raped. Almost over it. Almost normal.
I can almost forget. Way worse, I can almost remember.
I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. Even though everyone says it wasn't my fault, I feel responsible. How can this messed up life not be partly my deal? I did wrong. I broke all the rules that night. And I'm paying the consequences for my 'bad choices' in this endless time-out. Nightmare. Punishment. Endless time-out.
Yay, Vogue! I think this is awesome, but, honestly, doesn't it sound like something that would come at the end of a YA book centered around a teenage model battling anorexia?“1. We will not knowingly work with models under the age of 16 or who appear to have an eating disorder. We will work with models who, in our view, are healthy and help to promote a healthy body image.“2. We will ask agents not to knowingly send us underage girls and casting directors to check IDs when casting shoots, shows and campaigns.“3. We will help to structure mentoring programs where more mature models are able to give advice and guidance to younger girls, and we will help to raise industry-wide awareness through education, as has been integral to the Council of Fashion Designers of America Health Initiative.“4. We will encourage producers to create healthy backstage working conditions, including healthy food options and a respect for privacy. We will encourage casting agents not to keep models unreasonably late.“5. We encourage designers to consider the consequences of unrealistically small sample sizes of their clothing, which limits the range of women who can be photographed in their clothes, and encourages the use of extremely thin models.“6. We will be ambassadors for the message of healthy body image.”