On Deadline

The other lovely ladies of this blog have experienced this particular hell on numerous occasions, but as the "baby" of the group with only one book currently under my belt, this is my first time.

The deadline!

(I sort of hear scary music in my head when I read that last line.)

It's not exactly a secret that after getting tired of waiting for NY to call, I listened to my biggest cheerleaders (writing friends like the fabulously talented Gemma Halliday, Kristen Painter, Rhonda Stapleton, Gwen Hayes, and Melissa Francis) and took matters into my own hands last year and self-published my debut novel, Codename: Dancer. I've never hidden that fact.

So if I'm my own publisher, why am I tearing my hair out about a particular release date for my sophomore effort? Why don't I just suck it up and say "Gee, I've overpromised and underperformed. Mea culpa" and bump that sucker back a month or two? Any reasonable person would do that, especially when they have a newborn in the house. (Although I guess he's not really a newborn anymore at this point...going on 4 1/2 months!)

I guess all those pregnancy and new mama hormones must have messed with my system, because I'm clearly not reasonable. Or sane. Or maybe I never was.

I'd originally intended for Pointe of No Return to be a November 2011 release, just in time for Christmas. Would have been perfect, since it takes place behind the scenes of Nutcracker rehearsals. But one year ago this Sunday I got a little surprise. A wonderful one. About an hour after hitting "publish" on Codename, my husband and I found out we were expecting our second child. So between working full time as an attorney, raising a toddler, and baking the new bun, I was all tapped out. No time left for writing.

Needless to say, I missed that release date. By six months.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a new release date. May 14, 2012, as given to me by the awesome marketing team at Barnes & Noble. Upon Gemma's encouragement, I applied for -- and was accepted into -- the NOOKFirst program, which means that Pointe will be released exclusively for the NOOK for a period of 30 days before it's available elsewhere. They only select 4 titles per month, so I'm super excited about it.

So here I am at the tail end of my maternity leave, totally stressed out. I'm going through the book one more time before sending it to the editor. I've never written on deadline before, and frankly, I'm not sure I like it. Yeah, it got me to type THE END whereas I might have meandered and wasted even more time if I didn't have a concrete target date. But man, the stress sucks.

So besides writing a decent chunk of the new book, what else have I been doing since I gave birth? I also wrote a short story called "Barre Hopping at Midnight" which appears in the super cool FREE young adult anthology, Eternal Spring.

Yes, I said "free." It will be at all the major retailers next month, but for now you can download it from Smashwords. We hope you like it!

Did I mention it's free?

The anthology includes stories from such awesome YA authors as RITA finalist Stephanie Dray, Diana Peterfreund, Tawny Stokes, Juli Alexander, Rhonda Stapleton, and others. It's got something for everyone, with contemporary, paranormal, urban fantasy, and historical stories.

Here's the blurb:
Flowers, vacation, baseball, prom…what does spring mean to you? From unicorn hunters and teenage exorcists to Egyptian princesses and aspiring ballerinas, this collection of thirteen stories by some of the most exciting authors in Young Adult fiction explores young love and new beginnings during the most beautiful time of the year.

And here's the description of mine:
“Barre Hopping at Midnight” by Amanda Brice
How can aspiring ballerina Dani Spevak concentrate on performing at a spring arts festival when her not-quite-boyfriend is in town filming the lead in a hot new vampire movie and he was seen kissing his costar?

Yes, this short story is part of my Codename world, and fits chronologically between Books 2 and 3, although it stands alone and can be read in any order.

Oh, and it's free.

Genre 101

As you probably already know, I'm a big fan of the indie publishing movement. That's not to say I don't read traditionally-published books -- in fact, I read way more trad books than indie books -- or that I don't ever want a traditional contract. But I really like the freedom that authors are experiencing and the ability to control their product and profits.

It's also exciting as a reader, because backlist is coming back, and you're starting to see books that NY wouldn't take a chance on, even if they're really good books.

Of course, with the good also comes the bad. It's not secret that some indie books are, how shall I put this diplomatically? A bit lacking in the editorial department. Many indie authors hire freelance editors (often these are NY editors moonlighting on the side), but some simply finish typing THE END and then put it up without running it through a second (or third, or fourth) set of eyes.

I'm not going to go into the blunders of poor editing, because that has been rehashed countless times before. Today I'm going to vent about something different, but still related to the issue of losing the gatekeepers: not classifying your book properly.

Nearly once a week, I have to explain to writers on Kindleboards.com what exactly constitutes "romance fiction." Seems lots of people want to call their book a romance (because that's a hot-selling genre) simply because their main characters have sex at some point in the book. I (and the other RWA members and romance fans) explain that for a novel to be considered a "romance," it must contain two basic elements: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying and optimistic ending.

From the RWA website:

A Central Love Story: The main plot centers around two individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel.

An Emotionally-Satisfying and Optimistic Ending: In a romance, the lovers who risk and struggle for each other and their relationship are rewarded with emotional justice and unconditional love.

If your book does not have these two elements, it is not a romance novel. Period. It may or may not contain strong romantic elements (for example, my book Codename: Dancer would be categorized as a YA mystery with romantic elements -- the romance is a subplot that will follow the arc of the entire series and will not be resolved until the end of the series, but the mystery is what is primary in each book).



Another genre that some authors seem to have trouble defining is the Legal Thriller. I read a blurb yesterday for a book that the author (a lawyer in his day job) was touting as a legal thriller, but to me, the description just read as a novel where the main character just so happened to be a lawyer. Now, admittedly, he was having some trouble with his blurb, so it's entirely possible he didn't get the full premise across.

But that's a pet peeve of mine. Just because your book may have suspense elements and the main characters are lawyers, that doesn't make it a legal thriller. Don't call something a legal thriller simply because "thrillers" are hot on Kindle.

A legal thriller is a sub-genre of thriller and crime fiction in which the major characters are lawyers and their employees. It may or may not focus on a courtroom battele, but the justice system itself is always a major part of these books. In fact, one could almost argue that the law almost functions as one of the characters. The legal system provides the framework for the legal thriller in the same way that the the system of modern police work does for the police procedural. (You wouldn't call a novel a police procedural simply because the main character is a cop, would you?)

So what about you? Have you seen any books that you feel are improperly classified lately? Or have you read any books you just want to rave about?

What are you reading?

Since I mentioned Codename, I feel like giving away an e-book copy. Just a comment and you'll be entered to win! I'll draw the winner Sunday night, at 6 pm EST.

It's BACK!

I had a whole post planned for today, but I think I'm going to just put it off until next time.

As you know or may not know, Blogger went down at some point yesterday and just came back online a few minutes ago. I have to admit, this has made me an extremely antsy girl. I've been trying since late last night to post today's blog, and getting very twitchy indeed when it wouldn't let me in.

"But, but" -- I sputtered -- "I have blogs! And guest blogs!"

I'm supposed to be the guest blogger today over at Reader Girls (http://www.readergirls.blogspot.com) to promote Codename: Dancer, but considering as yesterday's guest blogger never got featured either, who knows what's going to happen. Actually, it appears that yesterday's guest blogger is being run today, so hopefully mine will be tomorrow? *shrugs*

I can't really complain, of course. Free promo is free promo, whenever it occurs. But it's really amusing how dependent we become on the Interwebz.

Our forums go down -- ACK!
Facebook goes down -- What are we going to do?
Twitter goes down -- Oh no!!!!!!

(OK, that last one doesn't apply to me, since I have an irrational fear of Twitter, but you know what I mean.)

What internet programs/websites/social media have you become dependent on?

Royal Wedding Redux

Awww...the kiss! So did everyone else love the Duchess of Cambridge's dress as much as I did?

I suspect that Fergie's daughters may have been protesting their mother's exclusion from today's festivities by wearing the most atrocious things they could find on the top of their head. But that's neither here nor there.

Sorry Gemma, I know we've agreed to an arranged marriage between our kids, but if Kate and William have a son within the next year, I'm going to have to enroll Amber in junior year study abroad at the University of St. Andrews, since the prince will likely just be starting his freshman year...oh, about 19 years from now. You understand, right?

And did you know that the obession with All Things Princess can begin as early as 16 months old? As we were driving to daycare this morning, I asked Amber if she saw a princess on TV this morning. Her response? "Yesh." I then asked if she thought the princess was pretty? She giggled and nodded.

Switching topics slightly from today's Royal Wedding, I released a book last week! Yay! Have you gotten your copy of Codename: Dancer yet?

~~ Amanda "Baby Face" Brice

Sneak Peak of Codename: Dancer!

I'm seriously deliriously excited that my debut novel is going to be released next week! It's hard to believe it's almost here. I feel like I've been working forever. And now in just a few short days, I'll be releasing Codename: Dancer out into the wild to see what readers think.

Here's what Killer Fiction's own Gemma Halliday thought:

“Fans of Pretty Little Liars and Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls will love Codename: Dancer. Sparks fly, tutus twirl, and a clever mystery unravels in what is sure to become a favorite among teens and tweens everywhere. Amanda Brice’s debut is a must read for every girl who ever danced – or ever wanted to!”

So I present to you now the first chapter! Enjoy!
______________________________________________

My first hint that the devil was wearing Prada earmuffs and a Burberry scarf should’ve been when my parents gave in and let me go to the Mountain Shadows Academy of the Arts. After all, they’d sworn up and down it would be a cold day in Hades before they let me go away for high school.

I definitely didn’t inherit my Grandma Rose’s ESP — she’s what she calls ‘fey’ and my dad calls ‘crazy’ — or I would have realized my world was about to be turned upside down.

But I guess it’s not surprising I’d missed the signs. I mean, there’s not exactly much use for earmuffs and a scarf in Arizona. I forgot to mention. That’s where I would be for the next four years. I was a freshman dance major at Mountain Shadows Academy in Scottsdale, an arts high school founded by Anna Manning Devereaux.

Yes, that Anna Devereaux. You may not remember her movies, but I’m sure you’ve heard of her many marriages. She was this famous starlet in the ‘50s who made a bunch of old movie musicals with Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire. Anyway, after Hubby Number Eight passed away, she got nostalgic for the Hollywood she once knew and decided to start an arts school to train the next generation. I guess Katy Perry and Snooki didn’t exactly inspire much confidence in her.

But Snooki’s a novelist, you say. Yeah, and she’s read two whole books, too.

When I first moved in, I thought for sure I’d made a huge mistake. My roommate Bev was a complete waste of space. I thought living with an art student would be great. If nothing else, she’d know how to transform the stark white dorm room into something fun and fabulous. Plus she’s a sophomore, so she could show me around. But man, was she ever BOR-ING! I wasn’t sure she was even capable of answering questions with anything more than one syllable.

I left my friends back home for this?

I plopped down onto my bed and tried to make small talk with the tall girl in black. “So, this is your second year here?”

Bev didn’t even turn away from her computer game. “Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a chunk of dyed black hair behind her ear, revealing more piercings than should be legal.

A root canal would be easier. “And you’re an art student?”

“Yes.”

I tried another tactic. “The dining hall opens at five?”

She typed furiously for a minute. “Yeah.”

“Wanna go?”

“No.”

I was stuck with her for the next year. How was I going to make it? I sneaked a peak over her shoulder at the time in the bottom corner of her screen. 4:55. Suddenly, my tummy was growling worse than Chewbaca in a firefight with a couple dozen Imperial Stormtroopers chasing him down.

“Okay, well, see ya later!” I said, grabbing my sunglasses and slipping my feet into my new sparkly black flip-flops. A few seconds later, I was out the door.

I’d wanted to shower and change first — what if I met a really hot guy while standing in the salad bar line? — but I didn’t think I’d last much longer in that room without some fresh air. Fortunately I wasn’t too sweaty from moving in, and anyway, what were the chances of meeting my soul mate on my first night?

I got my food as quickly as possible, which really wasn’t all that quick. The buffet was a thousand times better than the one at Golden Corral, and I’d thought that one was huge! Station after station overflowing with food options tempted me, and I found myself barely able to make a decision.

Yummalicious!

Not that it mattered. I had leotards to fit into, so I had to watch my weight. I placed a salad, bottled water, and a small dish of sugar-free raspberry Jell-O onto my tray, although I eyed the tiramisu.

As I made my way through the crowded room, I noticed all the other kids seemed to be hunched over a flyer. Their whispering permeated the air like my mom’s Eternity. Was it an invitation to a super secret party or something? My older sister Whitney told me all about the secret societies at her college. Did we even have that kind of stuff here?

Seeing all the kids huddled together suddenly made me homesick for my old middle school. I never had to worry about where to sit at lunch back at home. We were supposed to eat three meals a day in the caf, but I didn’t know anyone, so where was I going to sit?

Deep breath.

Three girls sat at the table in front of me, whispering. Every now and then they looked up from the flyer and scanned the room. Then they laughed and huddled up again. Finally one girl caught my gaze. She had shiny long blonde hair straight out of a shampoo commercial and was wearing a dress suspiciously similar to the one Leighton Meester wore on last night’s Gossip Girl.

I had to ask where she got it. Not that I could afford it if it was real.
I walked over and placed my tray on the table. “Hi, I’m Dani. Can I si—”

The blonde sneered. “You’re kidding me, right?”

As if on cue, Queen Bee’s friends started laughing. All three gathered up their trays and moved to sit with a group of guys at the next table over, occasionally turning back to look at me and laugh.

Did I have something on my shirt? (I was wearing a shirt at least.) Maybe I wasn’t wearing the right one. Or even worse, maybe a huge zit erupted on my nose?

I was surrounded by a sea of people, bobbing along on the waves and forced to sink or swim. What would it be? I clutched my tray just like a life raft.

I’d never felt so alone. So small.

So … nothing.

I considered bringing dinner back to Ames Hall to eat in my room — even spending time with Bev had to be better than letting everyone think I was a loser who ate alone — when I saw a tall girl wearing a pink tank top with rhinestones across the chest waving in my direction.

For a second there I thought she meant someone else, but apparently not, because she strode over to me. “Don’t let them bother you. They just think they’re too cool for school. Whatev. You’re the new freshman in Bev’s room, right?” When I nodded, she stuck her hand out for me to shake. “I’m Maya.”

My hands were full holding my tray, so I did an elaborate balancing act with one hand and my hip and stuck out my right hand. “Dani.”

Maya motioned for me to follow her to where she was sitting with a group of guys and girls. “What program are you in?”

“Dance.” Wow. I was about as talkative as my goth-girl roommate. What was wrong with me?

“Me too.” Maya’s cocoa-colored eyes shone. “So, what do you think of Bev?”

“Uh—” I stammered.

She held up a finger to silence me. “Don’t worry. I don’t like her either. She hates dancers. Total freak show.”

We finally approached Maya’s friends’ table. They, too, were huddled over a colorful flyer.

“Hey,” Maya said and caught their attention. “This is Dani. She lives with Bev Marcus.” The kids shot me a sympathetic look. “Dani, everyone.” Maya plopped herself down in between a short Hispanic girl and a guy who quite frankly put the Sparta boys to shame. Whoa.

Hmm ... looked like I was gonna like it here!

I placed my tray down at the empty spot next to a cute guy with spiky blond hair, dressed in a black T-shirt and ripped jeans. “What’s that?” I pointed at the flyer.

The Hispanic girl pushed the piece of paper over to me. “They chose our school for the next season of Teen Celebrity Dance-off!”

“It’s not fair that the auditions are only open to dance students,” Blond Spiky Boy said. “And let me guess, Analisa won’t be auditioning anyway because it’ll take away from your serious dance career?”

“Well, yes, it’s not ballet. That’s true,” the Hispanic girl said. “But as long as we still make our regular classes and rehearsals, it could only help.”

“So you are gonna try out?”

“Whatever, Kyle. You know you can’t dance anyway,” Maya said, dismissing him with her hand.

“Ladies, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” A tall guy with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes the color of the Caribbean extended his hand and let it linger. Contacts? Had to be. Nobody had eyes that blue naturally. “Hi, I’m Craig,” he said, smiling and revealing the most adorable set of dimples I’d ever seen. He looked like he walked straight out of the pages of the Abercrombie catalog. Since Mountain Shadows didn’t teach modeling, I guessed ‘actor.’

“Dani,” I squeaked.

I was forced to rethink my decision not to shower. I mentally cursed myself for being anxious to get away from Bev.

Maya smacked Craig’s hand away as if he were a mosquito. “Don’t let him bother you.”

“He’s not bothering me.”

Maya sighed. “Whatever. I wanna hear more about the show.”

What were the chances I’d get on, especially against the senior girls? But still, I had a shot. Maybe not a good one, since my training was mostly limited to the classics, but I could still try. Man, this school was so cool. Much better than Sparta High.

“Who’s on the show?” I asked.

Analisa consulted the flyer. “So far, they’ve confirmed Daronn Williams, and John Michael Cooper, but rumor has it Prince Harry and Daniel Radcliffe are in negotiations.”

I giggled. “Prince Harry and Harry Potter?”

Analisa cleared her throat before continuing. “Well, I seriously doubt the prince will do it. Isn’t he in the Royal Marines or something? Personally, I’m hoping for Robert Pattinson.”

“Yeah, right.” Maya’s laughter sounded more like a snort. “Like he’d really do this. I think that’s illegal anyway. He’d have to dance with underage girls.”

Wow, all those stars were totally hot. Daronn’s debut hip-hop CD landed him at the top of the Billboards at just sixteen, and who wasn’t in love with JMC?

“Just guys?” I asked.

Analisa tossed back her curls. “Looks that way. I recognize most of them, but not Michael Cooper.”

I laughed. “You mean John Michael Cooper, right?”

Analisa blushed. “Oops, right.”

“You don’t know who JMC is?”

Analisa shrugged, twirling a strand of fettuccine with her fork. She wasn’t worried about carbs?

“Um, Great Expectations? Hello?” I asked.

“The book?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “The band. They’re all over MTV.”

“Sorry, but I was never really allowed to listen to popular music,” Analisa explained. “My mom’s a ballet teacher. I only listened to music by dead white guys growing up.”

Maya shook her head slowly and whistled. “Girl, that’s some warped life you led.”
I felt my forehead scrunch up as I thought. “Why aren’t there any girls?”

“They were hoping to get Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift, but there was this whole controversy about whether Miley was a good role model and Taylor was too expensive,” Kyle explained.

“Anyway, their target demographic is teenage girls, so it just makes sense to only have guy stars,” Analisa said.

“Taylor Swift, now that’s a chick I could get behind.” A smirk graced Craig’s well-chiseled face.

Maya turned towards him, exasperation darkening her expression. “Was anyone talking to you? I didn’t think so.”

“So, how’s it work?” I asked.

A third guy, a tall, skinny Asian kid who, up to now, had been quietly doodling anime figures in his sketch pad, said, “They’re gonna choose five dance students to be partners for the stars. But I really don’t think it’s fair that only dance students can audition.”

“What do you care whether it’s just dancers?” Maya asked.

“Because,” Craig answered slowly, dragging out his syllables, spelling it out as if for a bunch of infants. “It’s national TV. My big break.” His already incredible eyes flashed a bright, piercing blue, making me go weak in the knees. It was a good thing I was sitting.

Definitely an aspiring actor.

Analisa laughed. “They’re only choosing girls.”

“That’s just it,” Ryan said. “It’s discrimination. We should sue.”

“Big words.” Maya smirked. “Someone’s been reading his Constitution, huh?”

I cleared my throat. “Actually, I think it’s only discrimination if the government does it. So you can’t sue.” Everyone stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “My mom’s a lawyer.”

Craig smiled in my direction. “Guess we better listen to the new girl.”

Kyle fixed a hard stare on me. “I’m sure we could still sue.”

Maya shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Whatev. You trying out for Law & Order: Special High School Unit? Cut the act.” She stood up, lifting her tray with the regal air of a queen dismissing her subjects. “Gentlemen, it’s been real, but my girls and I gotta finish eating and get practicing.”

She marched away, and we followed her to a nearby table. I kept sneaking looks back at Craig and his friends, though.

“Why did we leave?” I asked. “They seemed really fun.”

“Tim’s pretty cool. Kyle has his moments,” Analisa admitted. “But Craig is a total jerk.”

I looked over my shoulder at the guys we’d just left sitting a few tables away. Craig definitely looked like the leader of the pack. “He seems pretty nice.”
Actually, he seemed really hot, but I wasn’t going to admit that to the girls just yet. Not when I barely even knew them. I’d start with nice. Nice was neutral. Nice was safe.

I could deal with nice.

“Girl, everyone in school thinks that, and it goes straight to his head,” Maya told me, a conspiratorial tone coloring her words. “Really arrogant. I don’t fall for that shit.”

“Yeah, don’t get any ideas. Everyone wants to date him,” Analisa said. “Anyway, I think he’s still with Hadley Taylor.”

“Who’s Hadley Taylor?”

Maya gestured over her shoulder. “You just met her.”

Great.

“He probably only likes her because she’s totally rich. One of the upper class girls’ dorms is named after her dad,” Maya continued. “Plus, she’s a junior and danced Sugar Plum her sophomore year.”

Shoot. Hadley Taylor was serious competition. Nobody ever got the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy that young. I was way out of my league. Better write Craig off.

I knew I wouldn’t meet the guy of my dreams tonight.

“What grade are they in?” I asked, motioning towards the table of guys.

“Seniors,” Maya and Analisa answered at the same time.

“Craig has an audition for the Yale Drama Program in two weeks, but it’s just a formality,” Analisa said. “Everyone knows he’s going there.”

“And if not there, then either UCLA or Northwestern.” Maya shrugged. “He’s a cocky jerk, but damn, the boy can act.”

I looked back at the other table. “So how do we try out?”

Dance Anywhere

At 3 pm EST today (Friday, March 18, 2011), Dance Anywhere will be taking place. This event is a simultaneous worldwide public art performance and YOU are invited to partipate.

You don't have to be a professional dancer, or even involved in dance in any formal way. The only requirement is to have fun. Wherever you are, take a moment and MOVE! Nod your head, tap your toes, shake your booty. Just stop what you're doing and join in.

I, for one, will probably mark the occasion by nodding my head. See, I broke my toe the other day and I'm currently sitting at my desk with my foot propped up on an overturned trash can. Good times. So no dance class for me...

So I guess I'll just have to get my dancing fix from watching Dancing with the Stars, instead. Yes, DWTS returns on Monday, March 21 for a new season of watching pros and celebs vie for the coveted mirror ball trophy.

Don't laugh, but I love DWTS. It's been my guilty pleasure for years. The costumes, the music, the moves, the bling. I think I'm most excited about Karate Kid Ralph Macchio and Superbowl star Hines Ward this year, although Kirstie Alley ought to be entertaining. (Although probably not in the way she intends.)

I admit, it's not their most interesting cast, for sure. But I'll still be tuning in.

Of course, I have an ulterior motive. Exactly one month after the DWTS premiere, I'll be launching my brand new YA mystery, Codename: Dancer! Codename is set at a performing arts boarding school, where a ballroom reality show is being filmed.



Check out the blurb:

"Aspiring ballerina Dani Spevak is thrilled when hit TV show Teen Celebrity Dance Off comes to the campus of her performing arts boarding school. She trades the barre for the ballroom and gets set to cha-cha-cha to stardom with Hollywood wonderboy Nick Galliano.

At first their partnership is awkward, because Dani is in awe of her longtime teen idol crush. But soon their chemistry is heating up the dance floor and the attraction moves into real life. Could he actually like her?

Her excitement is short-lived, because someone wants her off the show. Bombs, poisoning, arson… Will Dani’s 15 minutes of fame be over before she reaches age 15? Dani and her friends are suddenly at the center of some serious sabotage. And if she doesn’t find out who is behind it, her next pirouette could be her last.

It's like "Nancy Drew in toe shoes" in this light-hearted tween mystery, a finalist for Romance Writers of America's Golden Heart Award for Best Young Adult Romance."

There's still another month before the launch, so I guess I'll just have to watch DWTS in the meantime. And hope my toe heals. Ouch!

(By the way, sorry for the delay in posting. I was still feeling a little loopy from the Percocet, so I needed to wait until it wore off soon. Otherwise, I'm sure this post would have been more like ghjkh31 3198 vhr 21j ihryrjhghj rhg v. Which is kind of like what it looks like when I let my toddler type.)

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

It's that time of year again, when one minute it's January, then I blink twice and it's March.

Where the heck did February go? Not that I'm terribly upset. I know it might get me kicked out of RWA, but I personally think February is a waste of a month.

Yeah, yeah, hearts and flowers, I get it. As a huge fan of the Romance genre, I'm supposed to revel in February in all its Valentine's glory. Meh. Whatev.

Sorry, but it's way too short to even count as a month. It's more like a really long week. To me, it's the month that comes after that's infinitely more exciting. That's right...March Madness, baby!

This week marks my favorite part of regular season -- Rivalry Week! On Sunday, my Duke Blue Devils will be taking on the evil Tar Heels to decide Tobacco Road bragging rights. Back when I was in college, it wasn't unheard of to spend half the semester sleeping in a tent just to get into the big game. Good times...

And then next week are all the conference tourneys leading up to the Big Dance! Whoohoo! Next Sunday is what's known as Selection Sunday, when the NCAA announces the seeds, officially stopping office productivity dead in its tracks for the next few weeks, as people fill out their brackets and continuously hit refresh to update the scores.

(That's assuming the office has disabled streaming video. Um, not that I would know anything about that. Nope. *whistles innocently*)

Last year I filled out two brackets. The first one I researched, carefully making my picks according to strength of schedule, how the teams matched up, what the analysts were saying, as well as my longtime method of never allowing Carolina or Kentucky to advance past the third round. Of course, I had Duke winning it all, but anyone who knows me would pretty much expect that.

I had my then-3-month-old daughter pick my second bracket. Say, what?

I know it sounds crazy, but if my friend Christina can win regularly $500 or more in her office pool by asking herself which mascot would win in a fight, then surely reading off the names to my baby and choosing the team she smiled at wasn't too ridiculous of a method.

OK, fine, I admit it. It's pretty darn ridiculous, but I had a colicky newborn who thought that 2 am was a really awesome time to wake up and scream. And 3 am. And 4 am. And pretty much every hour of the day... So you have to forgive me in my sleep-deprived state for not making a lot of sense.

Except that it did make sense.

You see, the first weekend last year was plagued by Bracket Busters, games in which Nobodies beat the Somebodies. All across the country people were lamenting the state of their brackets, but not my baby. Sure, she can't talk, but if she could, I bet she'd be talking some serious smack right about now because her picks were ABSOLUTELY PERFECT for the first two rounds!

Ohio over Georgetown? Oh yeah. She picked it. Cornell over Temple? Old Dominion over Notre Dame? St. Mary's over Villanova? University of Northern Iowa over Kansas? Check, check, check, and check.

I think there were like 5 people in the entire US that picked UNI to even make it to that game, let alone beat the #1 seed Kansas, and my infant was one of them.

She didn't end the tourney with a perfect bracket, but she still scored in like the top 2% of entrants in the ESPN.com contest.

So what do you think? Should I take her to Vegas this year and get a jumpstart on her college fund?



In honor of March Madness, I'm giving away an e-book copy of my upcoming YA mystery "Codename: Dancer" to one lucky commenter. Leave a comment and I'll let my toddler choose one of the names at random on Sunday night. She's pretty good at picking winners. (Of course, you'll have to wait until it's released in April to read it. I'll just let you get giddy with anticipation in the meantime.)