A New Query/A New Hope

I know, I know, long time, no blog. What can I say? It's 2020. But one of the many things I've been working on this year is an MG contemporary that I'm rather in love with and that I intend to query. ("Oh, no!" you're probably thinking if you've been around the blog for any length of time. "What happened with you and Brent?" Nothing really, and therein lay the problem. I think we both knew it was time to move on.) As such, I'd love to get your feedback on the first query I've written in almost five years. First draft below!

Dear [Insert Agent Here]:

Twelve-year-old Ingrid Adler really doesn’t like her aunt. She’s a know-it-all, she’s rude, and worst of all, she left the faith. Then Ingrid’s mom passes away, and her aunt nobly volunteers to help her dad take care of her. She’d much rather have her mom.

She avoids her helpful aunt by reading her mom’s diaries. They’re spontaneous and fun, everything her aunt is not. They also reveal a handful of her mom’s last wishes--to help Ingrid know her birth mom and to ride a roller coaster.

Ingrid dislikes roller coasters as much as she hates her aunt, but she also wants to be as courageous as her mom. When her aunt reads the diaries, she doesn’t give Ingrid a chance to weigh in on her crazy scheme, just organizes a massive cross-country road trip on the fly. With her grieving dad in tow, Ingrid grudgingly sets out to ride the baddest roller coasters between here and the Atlantic. But will this roller coaster road trip help her find her birth mom, too?

[TITLE] is an #ownvoices MG contemporary complete at 50,000 words. My previous agent and I parted on amicable terms several months ago, before I finished the first draft. Neither he nor any editors have read this manuscript, and it will be available to submit immediately.

Like Ingrid, I was placed for adoption as an infant and raised in a mixed-race home that was genuine and nurturing. I’ve also recently begun my search for my biological family. Though I’ve identified my birth dad, who was the younger son of a Filipino immigrant and a native Hawaiian, I still haven’t found my birth mom--but I haven’t given up.

I’m also the author of THE SOUND OF LIFE AND EVERYTHING, a Junior Library Guild selection, and THE MULTIPLYING MYSTERIES OF MOUNT TEN, among other MG novels.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

A few other notes: I've included my previous books, including publishers and release dates, in my signature block, which is why I haven't put them in the paragraph above. I just thought this looked less cluttered, but feel free to disagree! Also, while I'm looking for feedback on anything and everything, I'm especially not sold on the last line of the summary. Lastly, if you have any ideas for the title, please, please, please lay them on me. My best two ideas so far are HOW NOT TO FIND YOUR BIRTH MOM and THE SECRETS ROLLER COASTERS KEEP, but I'm not sold on those, either.

All right, then, have at it!

An Open Letter to My Birth Mom

Dear Birth Mom,

You don't know me. We met exactly once, on the day that I was born, but by then, you'd been in labor for, like, forty-eight hours, so you must have been exhausted. (I'm so sorry about that.) I hope they let you hold me for at least a little while, but they probably didn't. I'm sorry about that, too.

I should probably back up. Last year, I spit into a tube as part of the audition process for a reality TV show. I didn't make the show because my sister and her husband decided to have a baby (which is a whole other blog post), but I DID get the results from that tube I spit into. And guess what?! They found my birth dad.

He died twenty years ago.

In a car accident, sadly. I learned this from his other kids. I know you knew that he had kids, but did you know that one was only six years younger than you were? I guess he lied about his age. Is that why you didn't get married? I used to think it was because he wasn't a member of your church, but as it turns out, he was. Now I'm not sure what to think. Maybe you broke up with him before you found out about me, or maybe he broke up with you BECAUSE he found out about me. (I really hope that isn't it.) Hopefully, I'll get to ask.

As you've probably surmised, my spit couldn't pinpoint you. I'm quite certain it's because you were placed for adoption, too. But here's the most amazing thing--since my spit is half your spit, it found YOUR birth mom and dad.

   

Unfortunately, they're dead, too.

Are you noticing a theme? My head keeps reminding me that our genes weren't built to last, but my heart keeps holding on. I really need to tell you thanks for letting me derail your life. For giving me life, period. And for giving me two parents who went to the moon and back to help me become who I am. But you were adopted, too, so maybe you already know. Still, I'd love to say the words and meet you face to face. Again.

Until then, I won't give up. I'll chase every lead I have. It might take a little longer thanks to this lovely pandemic, but I'm strong-willed. I'm persistent. And I'm going to find you (in the friendliest possible way). 

Your birth daughter,

Krista

EARTH TO DAD’s Cover Three Ways

EARTH TO DAD was my first book to sell in more than one territory, and what added to my delight was that each publisher developed their own unique cover. I thought it would be fun to take a look at these covers and and discuss what each one adds to EARTH TO DAD’s world.

The American cover was the first one to take shape, and I fell instantly in love with Jen Bricking’s interpretation of the two central characters and the overall world. Both Jameson and Astra look exactly as I pictured them, and their environment is harsh but, thanks to the rising sun, ultimately hopeful. (I realize this image could just as easily reflect a setting sun, but I’ve always envisioned it as a sunrise, not a sunset. Now I wonder which Ms. Bricking intended to represent...) I also love the star-swept sky, the saturated color palette, and the striking title treatment. They really make the book stand out.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I first opened the file that contained the Chinese cover, as EARTH TO DAD was my first book to sell in another territory. Well, suffice it to say I was completely blown away. It was so completely different--and so completely unexpected--but I loved it just as much. The bright reds and oranges are exceptionally eye-catching and definitely create a sense of the red planet's importance. Jameson is super cute, but the focus on his dad also feels appropriate. Interesting side note: because the phrase "Earth to Dad" doesn't translate well into other languages, the Chinese publisher renamed the book MY DAD LIVES ON MARS.

The Korean rights sold on the heels of the simplified Chinese rights, but while the Chinese version was released last year, the South Korean version wasn't slated to come out until sometime this March. (Thanks to the coronavirus, I won't be at all surprised if it hasn't come out yet.) This is the long way of saying the South Korean cover was only finalized a few months ago, so I'm thrilled to share it here. While the American and Chinese covers relied on saturated colors, the South Korean version makes great use of pastels to convey a sense of the story's gentleness. Though the book is set in a post-apocalyptic world, the story is much more about Jameson and Astra's burgeoning friendship and how much they come to care for and look after each other. This cover also does a great job of portraying Base Ripley, where Jameson and Astra live, and you've got to love the South Korean title: HELLO, DAD! THIS IS EARTH.

Well, there you have it, EARTH TO DAD's cover three ways. Which one do you like best? And if you've read the book, which one do you think best represents the story?

Please Join Me in a Worldwide Day of Fasting and Prayer

Update: President Nelson invited us to fast again this Friday, April 10. Christians around the world will be observing Good Friday, but people of all religious backgrounds--or no religious background at all--are invited to participate and ask God for relief from this global pandemic.

 

Tomorrow, I'll be participating in a worldwide day of fasting and prayer to bring needed relief from the effects of the novel coronavirus. Because I've experienced the blessings of fasting and prayer in my own life, I wanted to invite you to participate and experience those blessings, too.

How do I fast and pray?

To fast, you purposely refrain from eating and drinking for a set period of time. I plan to fast for approximately twenty-four hours, so after eating dinner tonight, I won't eat again until dinner tomorrow.

But fasting is so much more than just not eating. To have the best fasting experience, consider combining it with prayer. When I begin my fast, I'll ask God to please moderate the effects of this new coronavirus, to strengthen the immune systems of those who've been infected and those who are working tirelessly to help them, and to relieve the suffering of those whose lives have been upended by this pandemic. I'll renew this prayer several times throughout the day, and then, just before I eat, I'll close my fast by thanking God for this opportunity and by asking him one more time to bless those around the world who've been negatively impacted by the coronavirus.

I'll also donate the value of the meals I didn't eat--and probably even more--to a charity that's working to assist doctors, nurses, and hospitals and/or relieve the physical, mental, or economic suffering brought on by this pandemic.

So to sum up, here's what you do:

1. Stop eating and drinking for a set period of time, usually twenty-four hours.
2. Pray to whichever deity you revere for needed relief from this pandemic.
3. Donate the value of the meals you didn't eat--or even more, if you're able to--to a charity like the American Red Cross, No Kid Hungry, or your local food bank.

What if I can't fast for a medical reason?

There are several subsets of people who shouldn't fast for medical reasons. For instance, pregnant women and people with certain chronic illnesses shouldn't go without food or drink for any length of time. But everyone can participate in the spirit of a fast by praying and donating to a worthy cause.

What if I don't make it the full twenty-four hours?

That's totally okay! The first time I tried to fast, I turned into such a blubbering mess that I had to go home and eat lunch. Fasting isn't easy; things worth doing rarely are. So even if you don't make it the full twenty-four hours, you can still say you fasted. God will still honor your effort.

Is fasting painful?

Yes, especially if you've never done it before. You ARE going to feel hungry. Your stomach IS going to growl. But these sensations only serve to remind you that you're fasting, that you're sacrificing something to benefit your fellow humans and to plead for God's help.

I didn't see this blog post until after the fact--can I still fast?

Absolutely! You can fast and pray on any day for any reason. God never takes a break:)

Who came up with this idea?

I'm not completely sure, but I'm going to say God. In fact, fasting is an element of many of the world's religions. I especially love what Isaiah had to say about fasting in Isaiah 58:

"Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?

"Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?

"Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the Lord shall be thy rearward.

"Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am. If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity;

"And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noonday:

"And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.

"And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in."

Aren't those amazing blessings?!

If you choose not to fast, I completely understand. But if you do decide to try it, thank you, thank you, and good luck. I hope you have a unique and inspiring experience.

Presidential Primaries and Lucky--or Unlucky?--Losers

Confession: I like politics. I DON'T like politicians and their frightening inability to get anything done, but I like following the news and generally being informed. I have opinions on most issues and, of course, most candidates. I don't share these opinions often, but at this pivotal juncture of the 2020 election cycle, I thought it might be worth digging into some relevant data.

First, a bit of background: I was a registered Republican until President Trump became the leader of the party in 2016. Now I'm an unaffiliated voter who leans right or left of center depending on the issue. Since I will never, ever vote for our current president, whose character I think thoroughly disqualifies him, I've been following the Democratic nomination process with more than just a passing interest.

It occurred to me last night that voters have been nominating what I'm calling lucky losers. So what is a lucky loser? It's a candidate who finished second in a presidential primary, then went on to secure his or her party's nomination in a subsequent election cycle. There are multiple examples, including John McCain, Mitt Romney, and Hillary Clinton, to name the most recent few. In fact, since 2004, the first presidential election in which I was eligible to vote, nearly half of the major parties' nominees have been lucky losers, as you can see below:

(i) = incumbent, (i*) = un-elected incumbent, ** = candidate who won most delegates but lost nomination

I've bolded the names of my so-called lucky losers so they're easier to spot. As you can see, Republicans have been much more likely to nominate lucky losers than their Democratic counterparts. In fact, Hillary Clinton was the first Democratic lucky loser in almost fifty years.

But what do John McCain, Mitt Romney, and Hillary Clinton have in common? NONE OF THEM WERE PRESIDENT. Lucky losers haven't won a presidential election since George H. W. Bush in 1988, and the only other lucky loser who eventually won the presidency was Ronald Reagan in 1980.

Why am I bringing this up now? Because Bernie Sanders looks poised to become the second Democratic lucky loser in as many election cycles and, as history has taught us, lucky losers tend to lose. Now, in Bernie Sanders's case, this wouldn't make me feel too bad. As much as I admire him for sticking to his principles, I can't in good conscience endorse most of his policies. But I also can't imagine reelecting Donald Trump, which is exactly what I fear will happen if Bernie Sanders wins the Democratic nomination.

In Pursuit of Patience

Three and a half years ago, in the fall of 2016, I got the impression it was time for Chris and me to try to have another baby. This was kind of monumental. From the time Monster was small--from the time he was born, really--I'd assumed we'd have another. I could almost hear her footsteps pattering around the house, and when I looked for my kids, I constantly looked for a fourth.

The timing had never been right. During most of 2013, spilling into 2014, I'd been majorly depressed. I felt like I SHOULD have a baby, but I didn't WANT another, which just made me MORE depressed. I'd been taught for years and years that children were a gift from God and that having and raising them were two of life's main purposes, so if I didn't want another, I was clearly horrible.

After going to a therapist once or twice a month for more than a year, I went back on medication. That put baby plans on hold, as I was under the impression that you couldn't have a baby while taking antidepressants. I was part relieved, part sad.

By sometime in 2015, I was feeling pretty good. I weaned myself off medication without talking to my doctor. (This was NOT a good idea.) Then 2016 struck. As I detailed in this post, Chris received a job transfer that really threw me for a loop. Still, I came to the conclusion I included in that post:

"I believe God was doing more with my life than I could do with it on my own. It's hard to let go, but I believe He loves and cares for us as a father loves and cares for his children. And because fathers are anxious to see their children succeed, He will help us steer our ships if we're willing to trust Him. In other words, when we let Him in, He won't ever let us down."

Three months after writing that, I was getting the impression it was time for Chris and me to try to have another baby. I was nervous but excited. As I detailed in THIS post, Chris and I had had to deal with infertility before. But this time, I was sure we were definitely doing what God wanted us to do. I was confident that meant the sailing would be fairly smooth.

I smile as I write that now. Hadn't I already learned that God carried out His plan, not what I thought His plan should be? I should have, but I hadn't. I was in for a crash course.

One month went by, then two. A sister-in-law announced that she was pregnant. I was mad despite myself. This sister-in-law had always gotten pregnant on the first or second try. Why had she never had to work? I shared some of these feelings with another sister-in-law, one who's miscarried several times. She completely understood.

Then, a month later, SHE announced that she was pregnant.

I cried a lot that winter, tried to get inside God's head. I hadn't really expected to get pregnant that first month, but what about the fifth or sixth? And why was God dispatching babies to every other family in our family? Was there something wrong with us? Were we less faithful, less deserving?

By the time March rolled around, I thought I was all cried out. Then a third sister-in-law, who'd put off having kids for years, announced that she was pregnant, too.

It was right around this time that I admitted to myself I was probably more depressed than I'd ever been before. I would go on crying jags that would, like, compress my chest and make it difficult to breathe, and my suicidal thoughts were slowly developing into suicidal plans. I spoke openly with Chris about the problems I was having, but they never went away. By April, I conceded to seeking medical help. We scheduled an appointment right away.

Chris went into this appointment thinking our window had closed. We'd tried. We'd failed. Time to move on. That said, I was less convinced. Why had I received that prompting if our family was complete? I know God sometimes allows us to take steps down the wrong path so we can pinpoint the right one, but that answer didn't sit. I was hopeful that the doctor would provide a better one.

Maybe you've already guessed what I learned at that appointment. As it turns out, I was wrong--there IS an antidepressant childbearing women can take from conception to delivery. Multiple studies have shown it has little to no impact on developing babies, and it's safe to take for days, weeks, months, even years.

This changed everything, of course. I walked away from that appointment feeling like I'd found the answer I'd been looking so hard for. And sure enough, a few months later, once this wondrous medication had had time to take effect and I was feeling good again, I got pregnant on the first try.

I could almost hear God's voice speaking softly to my heart: "THIS was the way for you to go. THIS was the path I chose for you. Wasn't it better than the path you would have chosen for yourself?"

What did I say after our house in Mesquite finally sold? "And because fathers are anxious to see their children succeed, He will help us steer our ships if we're willing to trust Him." You see, I ALREADY KNEW that God's way always works out. But when the next storm arose, I forgot and wrung my hands. What will we do, what will we do, what will we do, what will we DO? And yet I already knew: keep calm, carry on, and let Jesus take the wheel.

God allows us to pass through faith-promoting tests and trials just so they'll promote our faith. And if we let them work in us--in us, through us, and around us--then the next time we're confronted with a faith-promoting test, we'll be able to press forward and, if not rest fully easy, then at least rest easier.

Why am I sharing this now? Because I'm waiting to hear back on a non-writing endeavor that would mean the world to me. And because I've been on submission with one project or another for the past almost a year. I HATE being on submission. It's dumb and demoralizing. But as I hope I've FINALLY learned, I know how to handle it.

Have I had difficult days? Sure. Have I prayed for an end? Of course. But more often than not, I've prayed for strength to persevere, and that's made all the difference.