Where To?

Let's face it...there really isn't a facet of life that computers haven't infringed upon. The GPS is a prime example of this. You don't have to call where you're going to ask for directions, or even download a set from Yahoo! maps. All you have to do now is plug in the address to this cute little talking box on your dashboard, and away you go.

That's the way it's supposed to work, anyway. My GPS, formerly known as Harrison, is, as are most of the things that are associated with me, a few steps outside of the norm. Harrison and I have gotten into rather heated arguments on virtually every trip we've ever gone on together. I imagine it would be rather amusing to be in a car passing me on the highway, watching me scream red-faced at my windshield.

Harrison: In .2 miles, take ramp on right to Rt. 22 west.
Me: No, Harrison, I told you already. I don't WANT to go on the highway. I want to go the back way, the way we went last time, remember?
(Passing ramp.)
Harrison: Recalculating.
Me: There ya go. You'll see. This way is so much easier.
Harrison: In 500 feet, make left, then stay right to take ramp to Rt. 22 west.
Me: NO, Harrison. We are going the back way. 309 all the way. It's Memorial Day weekend, for crying out loud, we're not going on the highway, it's suicide.
Harrison: Recalculating.
Me: Got it now?
Harrison: In .3 miles, make right, then make right.
Me: Harrison, we are NOT turning around. No highway. NO.
Harrison: Recalculating.

And so on. But Saturday...Saturday was the final straw. Saturday was the day when, beyond taking control of my directional destiny, Harrison tried to take control of my retail destiny.

On my way home from a friends house, I decided to stop at Lowe's to pick up a ShopVac, after the horrendous flooding that happened in my basement last week--Lowe's specifically, since Home Depot doesn't offer the ShopVac brand. I looked up the address in my phone, which was 2650 MacArthur Road, entered it into my GPS, and began driving. Remember that address; it'll be important later.

As is usual with Harrison, I had absolutely no idea where he was taking me, but I knew enough to be confident that he would, at least, get me within a stone's throw of my destination. But when I finally recognized where I was...well, something was wrong. Then Harrison spoke up.

Harrison: Arriving at destination, 1270 MacArthur Road, on left.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you like to know what exactly is at 1270 MacArthur Road?

Home Depot.

I did not search on Lowe's or home improvement stores in my GPS. I input the EXACT ADDRESS, 2650 MacArthur Road, into the system. There is absolutely no reason why Harrison would get confused as to which home improvements store I was looking for, since I didn't say anything about a home improvements store. And I find it to be a little too coincidental that, on this road, where there's a store every 500 feet for about four miles on each side of the road, it would "accidentally" misdirect me to the only other home improvements store on that stretch. Apparently Harrison not only realized that I was trying to go to Lowe's, he decided that Home Depot would be better for my needs.

I hate computers.

Oh, and P.S.--Harrison's name is now Hal.

Buy Surviving Serendipity at Amazon or Quake Direct!

A Serendipitous Tumble

Embarrassing moments. Wow, I have quite a few to choose from. I think I’ve blocked most of them out, but a few still manage to stick with me, like accidentally exposing myself in the middle of a skating rink full of kids, nearly breaking a bowling lane single-handedly, forgetting myself in the middle of a movie theater and shrieking at the screen—yeah, I’ve got a few.

The one that sticks with me most, though, is one that fortunately has a happy ending. It was the beginning of a new semester at college, and my first week with a new boyfriend. Now, you know how it is with a new guy; you’re very careful with what you say and do. You don’t burp, you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to blow your nose, you eat slowly and carefully when you’re with him (and it doesn’t matter if you’re in a fancy restaurant or Taco Bell—you’ve got that stupid paper napkin in your lap), and you’re generally still working very hard to convince him how effortlessly cool you are.

On this particular day, I was meeting him in the outdoor quad between classes. This was the semester I’d decided to be a Biology major (the only semester, mind) and since each of the classes I was taking also had a lab, which had its own textbook, I was carrying about thirty pounds of books in my backpack. Bad decision number one.

Bad decision number two: allowing myself to get all googly-eyed. People in love don’t often watch where their feet are going. If anyone ever did an emergency room survey, I think you’d find a remarkable parallel between people newly in love and people who’ve just broken a bone in an accidental fall.

So, we meet up. We talk, we giggle. I look regretfully at my watch. I give him one last, lingering kiss goodbye, turn to go—

And step in a hole. Ordinarily, I just would have stumbled, but with thirty unaccustomed pounds of glossily-printed knowledge propelling me forward, I toppled like a felled tree onto my face. In front of a crowd of about twenty people. And, most importantly, in front of my new, super-hot boyfriend.

Did I mention this was at the end of a very hot, dry summer? In a high traffic area? The ground was dry. So dry that my body’s impact sent up a veritable mushroom-cloud of dust.

Thanks to a few years of karate training, I bounced back up so quickly that half the crowd wasn’t even sure what had happened. No such luck with the boyfriend, who was doubled up with hysterical laughter, but still tried to beat the dust off my front while I stood giggling nervously, wishing the hole had been a LOT deeper. MILES deeper.

I went off to class, still covered in dirt, and he couldn’t look at me for the rest of the day without busting out laughing. But just a few short weeks later, he asked me to marry him, and in two months, we’ll be celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary.

And you know what? I’m pretty sure that fall was the moment he fell in love with me.

Jacquelyn Sylvan is the author of Surviving Serendipity. Buy at Amazon by clicking the link, or click here to order from Quake Direct!

I Had A Fast Car...

Dear Diary,

Even though I’ve found happiness here (finally!), I can’t help but think of the world I came from. My friends, my family, my job…and there are so many simple things that I miss, like turning on the radio or the television any time you want to, taking a shower whenever you’re dirty, toothpaste, cell phones…you get the drift.
Out of all the things I had, though, I have to say the one I miss the most here is my car. It’s not that I had a tricked-out sports car or anything—it was a Subaru Outback sedan, kind of a maroon color, but I loved it.

I miss it for the obvious reason, of course—we’ve made most of this trip on either horseback or foot, except for the very memorable dragon ride—and that takes a toll, not to mention time. It’s become a fact of life now that, when I roll myself up in the blanket next to the fire at night, my back hurts, my legs and my feet ache, and I’m exhausted.

You don’t realize how much cars protect you, either, from the dust and pollen in the air, bugs flying in your face and down your shirt, and of course, from crazy alien guys attacking you with spears. I never thought about how safe being encased in that glass and steel capsule made me feel until I didn’t have it anymore.

But there’s the memories, too, and I think that bothers me more than anything. Memories of driving in the summer with Shannon and Ashleigh, all the windows down, singing to the radio at the top of our lungs, our hair whipping each other in the faces. And sitting in the parking lot of Rita’s with a strawberry ice, bare feet propped up on the open windowsill, talking and giggling and slurping Italian ice…having a car, and being in a car, kind of symbolizes being carefree to me now. And carefree is something I don’t know if I’ll ever be again.

--June

June is the heroine of Surviving Serendipity, by Jacquelyn Sylvan. Buy now at Amazon or Quake Direct!

Paperbax Giveaway!

This week, I’m really excited to be giving away one of my favorite products ever. It’s called a Paperbax, and it’s a really simple, lightweight device that lets you read books anywhere.

See, it’s a pageholder:



A bookstand:


And a bookmark:


Here’s why I love this thing: it won’t bend your book spine. You don’t have to worry about marking your place with dog-ears, tissues or emery boards. If you’re reading and the phone rings, you don’t have to scramble for a bookmark; just lay it down and walk away. And I’ve actually made money by using mine; my books get so little wear and tear now that I can resell them on Amazon for a really good price.

Oh, and my dog loves it, because I always have one hand free to pet him while I read.

So, here’s the deal. All you need to do is comment on this post, and you’ll be entered to win a Paperbax. You can also earn bonus entries by referring friends to comment. Just make sure they mention your username in their comment. (If you're not set up on Google to comment, just send me an email at jacquelynsylvan@sylvaniamaniaDOTcom, and I'll enter you.)You have until Wednesday, March 18 at 8:00 PM to enter, and winner will be announced on my blog Thursday, where, if you weren’t a winner, you can enter again!

Good luck!

I'd also like to thank the lovely model who agreed to pose for our shoot, Surviving Serendipity. Show your support by clicking the link to buy!

Fashion Don'ts

On Friday, I picked up an issue of Seventeen magazine, specifically the prom issue, because I was feeling a little nostalgic. (I eagerly awaited the prom issue every year, back when I subscribed.) Because I have an event coming up that I might be attending which would require formal wear, I was really looking forward to coming back from my lunch and flipping through hundreds of pages of pretty princess dresses.

Obviously, that didn’t happen, or you wouldn’t be reading this blog. Instead, my jaw dropped as I went through page after page of the most horribly ugly dresses I have ever seen in my life. Dresses that looked like they were made of cellophane or latex. Dresses with metal studs and enough accordion pleating to make even the most petite girl look like the Liberty Bell. Tie-dyed, fluorescent, psychedelic palm-frond print dresses. Most memorably, a dress which combined an oversized floral motif and a pink and blue leopard print with no success whatsoever.

Now, I know styles change. I know it’s been ten years since I attended my own prom. However, this is reminding me very much of a mistake I made in choosing my own prom dress, a mistake I don’t want you to make. I chose my dress based on the body I wished I had, not on the body I actually had. As a result, I shudder every time I see my prom pictures. (Part of that, admittedly, could be about my date, but I really think most of it is about the dress.)

Prom is a huge deal. You’re going to have these pictures and these memories for the rest of your life. So, please, choose carefully, and be true to yourself. If you feel that orange and green zebra print is really you, then put it on and rock it. But, if you’re only trying on that metallic paisley maxi-dress because Seventeen says prints are really in, take a moment and ask yourself, “What would Penelope Cruz do?” Then try something on that you know suits you.

Jacquelyn Sylvan is the author of Surviving Serendipity, a YA fantasy that takes place in a world where damsels in distress are so last season. Buy it here, or download to your Kindle here!

Introductions

I’ve posted on this blog before, but it’s been a while, and since you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me here, I figured I’d do some introductions. These sorts of things are always easier to do in an interview format, but, unfortunately, my husband is busy watching Gettysburg and my pets are, rather fortunately, still without human speech. So, I’ve decided to interview myself.

Me: Thanks so much for being here today, Jackie.
Me: And thank you for having me, Jackie. It’s my pleasure.

Me: So, tell me a little about myself.
Me: Well, I like to tell people I’m first and foremost an author. I have a great book in print, published by Quake, called Surviving Serendipity. It’s a YA fantasy about a young woman who finds out she isn’t who—or even what—she thought she was on her 21st birthday, and then, while she’s still recovering from that little shock, has to save the world.

I’m also working on getting my werewolf thriller trilogy and YA supernatural romance published. Until Oprah starts returning my calls, though, I’m still holding down a day job as a professional vampire; or, to say it in Latin, a phlebotomist.

Me: So, why YA?
Me: Honestly, it’s kind of subconscious. I originally wrote Surviving Serendipity as an adult novel, but my publisher put forth the idea of marketing it as a YA novel. And when I sat down and thought about it, I realized, you know what? This works! I’m still very much a teenager at heart; you can usually find me on the weekends in jeans and a tee from Threadless with some smart alecky saying on the front.
To go a little deeper, I had an absolutely miserable time in high school, so much so that I didn’t even attend my own graduation ceremony—I couldn’t wait another minute to get out of that place. Books were my escape. I could follow along with characters who were ordinary on the outside, but had a special secret or talent that led them on amazing adventures. Imagining I was like that, too, was one of the only things that got me through. Those are the kind of stories I still love, and so I write them, too…and a part of me hopes that it gives a teen who’s currently going through the same stuff I did something to draw on to get them through the next day.

Me: So, what’s it like, being an author?
Me: Well, for me, it’s equal parts rock star and reality check. When I do book festivals and in-person events, I never get tired of hearing, “Wow. You’re the author?” But there’s a lot of work involved, nasty dirty work like marketing and promotion. Writing the book is the easy part.

Me: So, where can people buy your book?
Me: Lots of places! You can go here, which is the direct site of Quake. You can also get it on Amazon, and if your local bookstore doesn’t have it, they can order it for you. And if you’re lucky enough to live in South Carolina, I’ll be at the South Carolina Book Festival in Columbia, SC, February 28-March 1.

Me: So, when will we see you again?
Me: I’ll be here the first and third Monday of every month. I also have my own blog, Serendipitous Times. Plus, you can:
Visit my website, SylvaniaMania.
Be my friend on MySpace and Facebook.

Follow me on Twitter.

And don’t forget—there’ll be lots of other Quake authors showing up here, so make sure you subscribe and click on Follow Me in the left column!