Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Upcoming Events-September/October/November


I'll be out and about this fall and wanted to give a heads up in case you're able to join me at one (or all--I love repeat offenders) of the following.


First up is the SONOMA COUNTY LITERARY FESTIVAL in Santa Rosa, Ca.

Saturday, September 22nd, 2012
Downtown, Santa Rosa, California
YA panels are at the Share Exchange, 531 5th Street in downtown Santa Rosa

10-11:15 - Hindsight and Other Sightings, with Stacey Jay (Juliet Immortal), Sophie Littlefield (Hanging by a Thread), and CJ Omololu (Transcendence)

The festival was a great experience last year. This year, my panel is a little earlier in the day which  makes me worry you teen type people will still be sleeping, but I'm crossing my fingers that we'll have a good turnout. If we get 25 or more people at the panel, I'll give away one of my last 2 Advance Reader Copies of ROMEO REDEEMED.


Next up is the RELEASE PARTY FOR ROMEO REDEEMED!! at Hicklebees in San Jose, Ca. on October 5th.

October 5th, 6:30 p.m.
1378 Lincoln Ave.
San Jose, CA 95125
(408) 292-8880

This one is super exciting because you'll be able to get your signed books several days BEFORE Romeo Redeemed's actual release day and score lots of fun goodies, such as Romeo and Juliet temporary tattoos (original artwork by Jennifer Redstreake)

(Isn't that fabulous? She's so talented. Check out her Etsy shop here: http://www.etsy.com/shop/Redstreake?ref=seller_info&atr_uid=0 )

There will be lots of other swag to be had, including magnets and posters and book launching yummies so I hope some of you will be able to make it there to help me celebrate. If not, you can always pre-order a signed copy from Hicklebees. You'll be supporting a great indie store and your copy will come with some goodies tucked inside the front cover! 


And lastly, I'll be joining a group of authors from the Dear Teen Me anthology at Book Passage:

November 15th at 7:00 p.m.
Book Passage
51 Tamal Vista Blvd
Corte Madera California 94925

"Celebrate teens with Book Passage and several of the contributing authors of Dear Teen Me: Authors Write Letters To Their Teen Selves, a book of reflections and advice from nearly 70 young adult authors writing to their teen selves. Editor E. Kristin Anderson and contributors Marke Bieschke, Stacey Jay, Mike Jung, Katherine Longshore, Erika Stalder and Mariko Tamaki will talk about their letters and their experiences."

I'll be adding other events as they're booked, and I hope to see some of you this fall!


Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Getting Older: The totally AMAZEBALLS edition (And Aug 19 event)

*heh heh*

*heh heh heh*

Pardon me, but I had to start this blog with a wicked chuckle because I'm feeling pretty darned pleased with myself and my oldness this evening. People line up to tell you young folks all the nasty that accompanies getting older, but friends, I'm here to share with you the truly AMAZEBALLS part of aging.

Here it is. Are you ready?

After a certain age, you get extra awesome points for staying exactly the same. For doing nothing. NOTHING! Except not becoming decrepit or dying!

Let's take ballet class as an example: After six months back in class, I'm doing the same things I did when I was 18 (though with more energy and strength since I'm old and wise enough not to starve myself so I can look more like an emaciated ballerina, though never REALLY like an emaciated ballerina since I am of sturdy Welsh stock and even my bones are bigger around than most professional ballerinas' waists). But now, those same old things aren't just "good" or even "really good." They're AWESOME.

And why are they awesome? Because I'm 34.

That's it. I didn't have to DO anything. All I had to do was keep doing the things I've always done and continue living and BAM! I'm awesome! And that's not all. There's more! Yes! More!

At 34 (aka: totally old beyond all imagining) certain assumptions are made about my involvement in this ballet class. It is assumed I'm doing it "for the exercise" or "to build muscle tone in my legs" or "to improve flexibility."

They--they being the girls young enough to still be pondering what role they will receive in this year's performance of The Nutcracker--don't imagine for one moment that this old lady is steadily improving her skills, working on her turn out, doing extra relevees at home in her spare time, walking around her kitchen in her toe shoes, and slowly building up her stamina and skill in order to stage a Nutcracker audition coup later this fall.

That's right, girls, this old lady has her eye on Snow Queen. Or maybe the Spanish solo. I've danced it before and my memory is astonishingly good...for an old lady. I will come to your audition and dominate it with an amazeballs combination of experience, poise, and my in-tip-top-shape old lady body!!!

*heh heh*

They'll never see me coming.

All in all, this makes me pretty excited for fifty. I mean, I don't want to rush things, but I get a little tingle in my toes when I think how freaking amazeballs I'm going to be then for doing the same old thing. It's going to be pretty awesome.

Have an amazing weekend, and if you're in the San Francisco area, come see me at Borderlands books on August 19th at 3 p.m. for a panel event:

"Walkers, Watchers, Witches, Immortals and More: Four Authors in Conversation" with:

Veronica Wolff
Kat Richardson
Stacey Jay
Carolyn Jewel

It should be fun. My mom will be there. She's really old and can still run and ride a bike and lift heavy objects. Someone will probably give her a medal pretty soon. Come. See her. See me. Get a book signed. Talk some stuff with us.

Hope to see you there!


Saturday, August 11, 2012

A Little Ancient History

When I was a little girl, my dad was my hero. He slayed wasps and bees and fended off scary dogs, he could fix anything, and his round belly was the perfect place for a nap. (My mother took the "exhausted toddler sacked out on dad's tummy" pictures to prove it.)

When I was a teenager, I decided my beloved father was a fossil (he was 17 years older than my mom and closer to a grandpa to me in age than a dad) and he decided I was lacking in anything resembling common sense. We stopped chatting as often and when we did, we often disagreed (he was a Republican). But I still wrote him bad poetry on his birthday and Christmas and he still wrote me notes. Lots and lots of notes. Thank the universe my teenage self had the good sense to save them, sensing deep down that maybe Dad wouldn't be around as long as anyone would wish. I never imagined he'd die when I was 19.

It was too soon, but at least I still have his letters. Sometimes I pick them up and read a few just to feel close to him again. By this point I can make it through three or four before I get too emotional and have to put them away.

Today I was cleaning out the garage and daydreaming about my two new characters (who I can't wait to start writing about in a few weeks) when I found this. As a woman who writes about teens and cares about them very deeply, this letter felt like something I should share.

A letter from my Dad:

Dear Stacey,

I think my talent for journalism exceeds my ability as a preacher so I decided to bore you with a little ancient history.

In 1948, there were thirty one members of my junior high school class. Charles S. took Alice C. to a Truman night club to dance. The legal drinking age at the time was seldom enforced back in those days. Charles drove his 1939 Chevrolet into the Lake City bridge and killed Alice. Alice was seventeen; an attractive bright blue-eyed blonde who always made the honor roll. We were surprised that she even dated Charles.

A year later Morris K. drove his car underneath a tractor trailer and decapitated himself. He had also been at a Truman night club. Morris and I were close friends in our pre-teen years and stayed all night at each others homes on several occasions.

The next to go was Doyle C. He was returning from an Osceola night club and rolled his car on a curve about one half mile from his home near Caraway. John M, my best friend, was next. John had also been to Osceola. He decided to take a short cut home and tried to drive across a section of flooded road and his car drowned out. He got out of the car and walked to an abandoned house. On the way he fell and got wet. It was a cold night in December. He lay down to sleep and died of exposure.

One person out of every eight in my class was killed in alcohol related accidents before they celebrated their twenty-third birthday.

This is what scares me and your mother. The same things could have happened to both of us. When we were young and believed we were indestructible and would live forever.

We believe you are more mature than we were at sixteen but most of my high school class felt the same way about Alice Cook. Alice died forty five years ago and her family still misses her.

Your Daddy and Mommy love you. We expect you to take care of yourself and be around to lay flowers on my grave when I go at a hundred and eight.


The stats for my class weren't as bad, but we lost our share. Three friends of mine died in alcohol related deaths. One was my pom squad captain and the sunniest girl in the world. One was a girl I did theater with when I was a kid and who had the best sense of humor. Neither one made it to eighteen and it's a damned shame.

I don't mean to bum you all out or even tell you not to drink underage (I'm many things, but I try my best not to be a hypocrite). I'm just saying: take care of yourself. Make smart choices. Take care of your friends. And if you're a mom or dad, take a minute to write your teen a note or talk to them about drinking and driving. It might make a difference. Or at least give them something nice to read when they're older and smarter and cleaning out the garage and finally realizing how smart and sweet a parent you were.

Peaceful weekend,