Ladies and gentlemen... we have a title!

All good things must come to an end. The Girl Least Likely was a great title. It served me well.

Actually, I didn't really love it at first. I slapped it on the book because someone told me my old title was taken. As time went by, it grew on me. When the book sold, the Lovely Editor suggested we look for a title that sounds less "ugly duckling turns Prom Queen" and more "wow, my little sister is homicidal."

We made lists. Lists and lists and lists. And tried to think of scary words.

As I went through this exhausting process, I decided to add some humor to the situation by making a joke suggestion* on my list. Ha ha ha. Katie funny. Ha ha ha! Nothing soothes the burden of reading a list of blisteringly bad title suggestions like a good old-fashioned joke.

A week later, I got a call from the Lovely Editor. Response from the many mysterious Powers That Be At Hyperion was overwhelmingly in favor of one title.

Can you guess which one?

That's right.

The joke title.

Ha ha ha!

After I got over the surprise, I did as Dr. Phil suggests and wore the decision around for a while. I drew on my previous experience to remind myself that things have a way of growing on me. And it did. Then when the Delightful Editor took over and we continued to make adjustments to the book, I thought maybe something solid might come out of the new stuff. But who were we kidding? There can be no pretenders to this throne.

And so, with only minimal further ado... the new title is...

Bad Girls Don't Die, by Katie Alender.

...or do they?

To learn the answer to this and many more of life's most pressing questions, you will have to buy my book next April. Preferably in both hardback and audiobook. You could also buy the ebook, if one comes out, and any foreign editions. And save some pennies for the paperback release. Deal?

* The joke was: "(sung to the tune of...)" Hey, I never said it was a good joke.

PS - I still claim The Girl Least Likely. Paws off, you dirty dogs!

Because I hate wasting Post-Its, that's why.

Sorry I've been so slow with responding to comments lately! I've been a little swamped. Who knew multi-tasking was so much work?

I got notes on TGLL from the Delightful Editor -- she had some thoughtful insights that I'm excited to address. This whole situation has been such a lesson in the realities of publishing. I never imagined that I would be one of Those Authors -- the ones whose editors leave. You hear about that happening, and you just kind of hope it doesn't happen to you and you also kind of assume it won't. But I know now that it can happen to anyone.

It was scary at first. An editor is the book's staunchest advocate within the publishing house. No matter how great and supportive all of the other people there are, a book belongs to its editor, and s/he is the one who shepherds it through the process. Switching editors is like switching shepherds: the sheep think, "Is he nice? Does he like our wool? Will he feed us as much as the other shepherd did? Will he still want to hang out with us, even though he's not the one who picked us out of the sheep lineup at the livestock auction?"

Okay, so clearly I don't know a lot about sheepherding (except which dogs do it best), and I don't know what the process is like for other authors in other situations.

But for me, it's going as smoothly as I could have hoped. And I can honestly say that the book will be better for another pair of eyes. And the Delightful Editor is as charming and funny and fun as the Lovely Editor (which is probably why they're such good friends). And as I looked over her notes, I got a very clear and comforting feeling that she had truly invested herself in the material. Her take on everything is fresh and exciting and great.

A few years ago, I worked in TV development, conceiving and writing up pitches for shows for kids and young adults. Though it was a collaborative group setting, I had one project that I adopted as mine -- I wrote it, I outlined characters, I shaped the development of anything that hadn't been settled on by the team (and even some things that had been). I worked on that document until my eyeballs just about bled. I knew it frontwards, backwards, and upside down. I knew every word. Then the company folded and the project got shelved. Boo! Hiss!

But the really important part came about a year later, when I found a copy of the document in my files and looked it over.

My reaction while reading could easily be summed up as: "Hmm."

As in, "Hmm, I could tighten that. Hmm, that part is a little long. Hmm, why would the main character do that? Hmm, I think this needs to be fleshed out."

And then the big one: "Hmm. I can't believe I thought this was perfect!"

Nothing is ever perfect. Of course, you have to know when to stop or the book could end up, you know, never finished, but there's also something to be said for a spit-shine. And the more time you have away from something, and the more truly caring and invested people look at it (and these need to be people who are willing to dig in and work from the core of the project), the better it will be thanks to those eyes.

And that is why a book I thought was grrrrrrreat thanks to the input of the Lovely Editor is going to be, in my opinion, supergrrrrrreat thanks to the input of the Delightful Editor. In fact, one of her offhand comments in an email became the basis for an element that I think is going to help tie some things together in a really cool way.

The other things I've been busy with: walking the dog in the morning, writing 2000 words a day on the WIP, working on the dog show, and sewing the object below, because I keep sodas in the fridge at work and I got tired of wasting new Post-Its every day just to keep grubby paws off my hard-won Diet Cokes.



(Yes, that's underwear elastic, but I bought it brand-new, I swear.)

I had something important to say. (PS - Big News)

But I forget.

Oh! Here it is. I just plucked a book off the shelves, one I've been meaning to read, and I opened it to find it has a Foreword, a Preface, and a Prologue.

I admit my passion has been dampened.

It's one of the books I got to take home from the Rejected shelf when I worked in the CBS Movies & Miniseries department. That was back when they had one guy doing reality shows and seven executives in my department. You can only imagine what has happened to that ratio in the years since.

Today is back-to-work day! I know I will have a good time when I get there. It's just the going that gives me such heartache.

Come to think of it, I do have Big News.

As I have posted, the Lovely Editor moved forward to the greener pastures of graduate school. We worked on the edit of the book to get it wrapped up and submitted to copyedits, and I and my project were placed gently onto the roster of a new editor (by the way, which sounds better -- Winsome Editor or Charming Editor? or Foxy Editor? or Delightful Editor or Beauteous Editor?), and she read over the manuscript and has decided that she wants to take a little more time.

Because I am no Rowling or King or even that person with the Foreword/Preface/Prologue trick, it is not, perhaps, wise to release my lamb of a book into the wilds of the summer 2008 releases. What does this mean? It means that (the book soon to be known as the book formerly known as) The Girl Least Likely will be emerging in early 2009, not late spring 2008.

What does this mean? It means a few things. Above all, it means that a book can always be improved, and in my experience, the more eyes, the better. It means that I will have a little more time to bang out the next project, as well (not under contract, but in the interest of expediency, nice to have them lined up like ships going into the Panama Canal), it means that I will get to work with (Winsome/Delightful/Beauteous/etc.) new Editor, which I am looking forward to only in the way that authors and other supreme narcissists can, because let's all sit down and think about MY book for a while. Plus, she's very nice, and I highly enjoy dealing with nice people.

Important transcript:
Katie: "Do you hate my book?"
Editor: "No!"
Katie: "Oh, okay! Everything is fine, then."

So we will all just wait a little longer to hold this masterpizza literary tome in our grubby paws, then. In the meantime I shall endeavor to write more books.

And now I'm off! Off to work. Where there are no cloth napkins at all.

Nice city... I guess I'll stay forever.

Well, some people like to leave a city on their "scheduled departure" day. But I think that's so pedestrian. I decided to throw a major snowstorm, arrange for the cancellation of hundreds of flights, and stay an extra weekend in New York. Those in the know will understand the significance of being in a Times Square hotel on St. Patrick's Day. The only saving grace is the 35-degree weather -- might scare away the amateurs, leaving only the most hardcore and obnoxious drinkers. Locked away in the second -floor lounge all day, anyone?

So anyhoo, I didn't update after my Author's Day Out on Tuesday. We hauled ourselves out of bed mid-morning (we have pretty much remained on our West Coast schedule, what can you do?) and started the walk toward the selected restaurant, which happened to be Mesa Grill. Ye olde husband has been dying to go to Mesa Grill for just about ever, so he was excited. We meandered the 30 blocks and made a brief stop at H&M (I need to remember we have one in Pasadena), then went to Mesa.

Lovely Editor and Agent M were there. We had a really grand lunch. We talked about all kinds of things -- a lot of reminiscing about teenagedom, some talk about the city, and life in general, and a bit about the book. Titles are still a major area of consideration, because we want to make sure the title is a great reflection of both the category and the paranormal element. After lunch, we went up to the Hyperion Books for Children offices and met a lot of the people who work there. It's really fun to have faces to attach to the names (and walls to attach to the place).

Then we went down to Agent M's office and took up way too much of his valuable last-day-before-going-out-of-town time chatting about current and future projects.

Then, to get back to our hotel, we mastered the beast that is the New York City subway system. Yes, it bows before us. We are its masters.

It was really fun, and as I mentioned to the husb (hip new term I just invented), one of the things that made it so cool (aside from the fact that we spent the whole day talking about me, ha ha ha) is that it's something we've never done before. Meet with editor and agent, talk about projects? It's different in person.

I really do like New York City.

But please cross those fingers that our flight makes it out tomorrow!

Bye!

I yam what I yam.

Recently, due in part to having to renew some domain names and wanting to start up a redesign of ye olde website (look for it in April), I gave a good deal of thought to the question of my name. Mind you, I see nothing wrong with the name Katie. I have known a few Katies in my day, and I'm pleased to report that we are a mischievous lot. The name itself and the implications of it are dear to me.

But as an author...? My book is a thriller. It's told in what I hope is a fresh, funny voice, but when you come down to it, scary things are happening, and the overall effect is on the darker side. And judging by my work-in-progress, there's more of the same where that came from.

Is that writer really a Katie? I started to have my doubts. I began to think about other possibilities: K.S. Alender. Kate Alender. Kat Alender. Kade Alender. My husband vetoed a couple right off the bat, but there were one or two that stayed with me. So I did that annoying thing where I ask for everyone's opinions even though I'm clearly not ready to decide. And, as I tend to do, I agonized a little. Agent M and my lovely editor remained mum, except to offer encouragement in my quest.

So I did a mockup of the web redesign, except I used K.S. Alender instead of Katie Alender. I was at the edge of the platform, one foot off, ready to commit.

And then as I was driving to work one day, I was thinking about the possibility that at some point I may actually meet someone from my target readership. And then I would get to talk to this person about the book!

"My name is Katie," I will say. "Nice to meet you. I hope you like the book."

"What's it about?" asks this reader, who is dressed kind of cool and has no way of knowing that I once dressed in a way that may have been considered cool, especially if you take into account that 90s thing of tucking your jeans into your boots.

"It's a ghost story about this misfit girl who has nobody to help her when her little sister goes crazy," I will answer.

"Hmm," says the girl, and looks at the cover.

"It's about being yourself," I will add. "And, like, not having to be what other people think you are."

"Oh, okay," she will say. And then she will glance at the cover of the book and see K.S. ALENDER. And she will look back at me and ask, "Why does it say KS Alender if your name is Katie?"

And I will say, "I didn't think a person named Katie would write a book like this."

Splat.

That was my lightbulb moment, right there. Everything I write tries to be about being just who you are, not adjusting yourself to fit some mold or expectation. I mean, first and foremost, they try to be good stories, but under that I can't help but try to make this point again and again.

So what should I do, hide behind some initials because my name doesn't sound enough like a person who would write this book? But I did write this book. And my name is Katie.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

(Agent M and the Lovely Editor were both like, "Oh, that's what I hoped you would decide!" Of course.)

This one is for you, M.E.

I have a "how I got my agent" story that I'm sort of afraid to tell, especially after reading some of the tales of woe on the more popular publishing blogs.

I knew my agent in high school. We were in a lot of the same classes, with the same crazy classmates and crazy teachers. I will tell you this: he drove me insane. But he was also hilarious and smart and no matter how self-righteous I was (answer: very extremely), I at least had the sense to exploit those qualities. So we worked on a lot of projects together, projects which went on to be hilarious. To us, at least. At the time.

Years pass. In short, I emailed him because I saw his listing at the alumni website. I sent him my book, and he liked it. The whole process took about five days. Then he sold it. (I pride myself on my continuing ability to exploit his talents.)

I don't know a ton about the literary world (clearly), but I do know this: my agent knows me. He's passionate about my book and put it in the hands of an editor who felt the same way. He tells me I'm not a bother when I ramble on the phone about my dog and the weather and my family.

(He inserts the correct chapter first-pages in several copies of the manuscript when I have discovered the morning the submissions are going out that I've mislabeled, oh, 27 chapters, and convincingly hides his horror at my suggestion that maybe nobody would notice if there were two each of chapter 11 and chapter 14 -- a shameful example of our weak morals here in Hollywood.)

In short, he's pretty awesome and I think that deserves to be acknowledged publicly.

Besides, if someone can carry off the following exchange in 10th grade AP European History, you always want them in your corner:

MS. M_____: And furthermore, I hate you ALL and you're never going to amount to anything if you don't start acting like grown-ups instead of preschoolers. Sit up straight! Don't give me those sad faces! I can't stand being part of this farce -- (she notices M's hand up) -- what is it, M?

M: I just wanted to tell you that you look very nice today, Ms. M_____.

MS. M_____: Thank you, sweetheart. You know I'm not addressing any of this to you.

M: I know.

MS. M_____: But the rest of you are useless vermin and just looking at you and thinking the future of our nation rests on your sad shoulders is enough to make me etc. etc. etc. ...

And so on.

Excuse me for rambling, I just got to reminiscing about high school and thought I'd indulge myself (my elf -- everyone needs an elf to blame things on).

Time flies when you're ________.

September already! And that half gone. At work, we are already moved on to the big live show. What is it now, ten weeks away? Every time I think of it, I get a serious flock of butterflies in the old belly.

I need to edit the description of this blog to include the word "sewing", because that seems to be the leisure activity of choice these days. Yesterday I made a wrap skirt for a friend and one for myself. I'm going to wear it today, in fact. I hope no one at work thinks I'm nutty for pretty much only wearing wrap skirts. In the first place, I love them (and now I have five, which makes ten completely distinct fabrics), and in the second place, they're about the only thing that fits these days.

On that note, I guess if I add "sewing" to the description, I should go ahead and add "eating". I am a shameless little piggy these days. And I feel like something needs to click before I'll be able to get a handle on it. But maybe that's a cop out.

What else...? Still revising The Girl Least Likely. I hope this will be the last go-round before the next round of submissions. That would be nice. I need to get back to working on 7S.

Writing a first draft is like trying to make flowers grow by pulling on them.

Actually, that's not true. That's what I'm making it like right now. In reality, it can be broken down to a fairly reliable process of writing-leading-to-results. But it's easier to pretend it's out of my hands. Plus, you have a lot more time to make skirts that way.