The Trailer

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So here’s the final trailer. I love it. Do you?

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Book Trailer Continued!

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Meet Annie. She is gorgeous. And sweet. And can sit a horse like nobody’s business.

And she’s my Scarlett Wenderoth for the book trailer of SACRED.

Day Two of filming was really cool. The folks at Film 14 even managed to get a horse–and a stunt rider–for the galloping scenes.

Here’s Cindy and Ruby. Ruby is the horse. Cindy is the one in the blond wig.

And want to see something kind of cool? Here are Annie and Cindy together:

Yes, that’s right. They are wearing matching outfits. They had to trade the gloves back and forth, though.

And, though I thought it impossible, this guy:

managed to wear a t-shirt only marginally less offensive than the one from the day before. I like this guy.

Here are a couple of pictures of the good men of Red14, doing what they do best:

Alex the Australian

Alex and Adam

 

Alex and Mike (notice the strategic placement of Mike’s camera. I had to ask him to hold it like that so I could print this picture)

And last but certainly not least, Vinnie the Intern.

Plus, one more picture of Annie, just because she is so lovely:

Okay… now we can all hold our breath together until the trailer is finished!

What’s your favorite photo??

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Book Trailer Part II

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So yesterday was, in a word, rad.

Imagine this: you’ve created a character. In your mind, he’s clear as day: tall, dark wavy hair, green eyes. A searching gaze that hides… things. Things you’ll have to read SACRED to find out about.

And then imagine that you had the unique pleasure of watching three cameramen–all of whom are easy on the eyes, by the way–film an actor–also not painful to look at–as he becomes your character.

Yep. Pretty freaking cool.

So here are some pictures I took.

This is Alex. He’s Australian. He was one of the camera guys yesterday.

Here he is again.

This is Mike. He co-owns red14films. He has many cool tattoos and a tank top that I can’t show you from the front because… well, just because.

Here he is again. These guys take their work seriously!

Okay. In this shot Alex and Mike were figuring out something about lenses and in the background you can see Adam, the other red14films guy, talking with the actor. His name is Roby Sobieski. He was one of several hundred guys who answered my add on LACasting.com to play Will Cohen for a day. As soon as I saw his headshot, I was swooning. Here it is:

Right?????
Mostly for the shoot Roby had to run around a lot. It wasn’t that hot yesterday, but I guess that’s easy for me to say from the sidelines. There were lots of bugs, though.
Here’s Roby recovering from his run. Poor guy.
And a few more shots, just because:
It was a great day. 
This afternoon I get to go back to see an actress portray Scarlett Wenderoth, the main character in SACRED. Thrilling, thrilling.
Check back for more!

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Book Trailer Day!

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So today is pretty cool. I get to watch this guy turn an actor into my character, Will Cohen.

The guy above is Adam Cushman of Red14 Films. They are making my book trailer.

Okay. Book trailer. A phrase that may have confounded me a year or two ago. One that certainly has a few of you rolling your eyes.

When I first came up with the idea for SACRED, it was an image that came to me first of all–before character, plot, even setting. It was this: A girl, on a horse, racing around a bend. Pursued or pursuing, we don’t know. Her hair flies loose behind her and she urges on her horse, leaning forward in her saddle, going faster, faster.

What she doesn’t know is that someone else–a boy–is running, too. Running hard on the trail. In a moment, their paths will collide.

I had to know–why is she running? Why is he running? Who are they? What compels them?

So I started to write.

That image never let me, the whole time I wrote SACRED, and in the time since I sold the book, all through the editorial and publication process, it’s stuck with me just as vividly. So maybe it’s a little self-indulgent, a gift to myself, to watch this scene being filmed.

Over the next few days I’ll post pictures and tell you how the process plays out.

So, so excited.

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At Fourteen

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When I was fourteen years old, eight months before Reignbeaux (aka Rainbow) entered my life, my family moved. We had been living in Long Beach, where I was a 9th grader at Hughes Junior High School–junior high ran from seventh through ninth grade–and we relocated to Laguna Hills, where I became a freshman at Laguna Hills High School. It was April.

I remember feeling relieved that I’d missed the beginning of freshman year, and that I’d never, ever have to be a freshman on the first day of a freshman year. I’d never get thrown into a trash can. I’d never get mocked by “upperclassmen.” It felt like I’d dodged a very important bullet.

I harbored many hopes about starting at a new school, about entering high school, about being the “new girl” once more (it seemed like I was always the new girl). Highest up on my list was my dream of finding, as Anne of Green Gables put it, a Bosom Friend.

I had not had a best friend, someone with whom I could share my secret heart, in a very long time. My first best friend was the worst break-up of my life, at the age of six. (More on that later.) I had siblings, including my only-slightly older sister, and she was on and off a friend and an enemy, like all sisters for the most part, I suppose.

What I wanted was a girl who would love me, who would understand my awkwardness and embarrassment, and who would make me cooler simply by standing by my side.

I walked into Drama class and found her.

Her name was Shayna Liebbe. She slouched in her chair, she wore gladiator sandals before gladiator sandals were cool, and she may have been the smartest person I ever met.

She liked to say that she became my friend because otherwise she would have had to hate me–we were alike in so many ways.

Her intensity was epic.

It’s been almost three years now that Shayna has been dead.

Tonight, after his shower, my kid Max found her old watch in a drawer in the bathroom and asked if he could have it. It fits him just right, which is weird and sad and cool all mixed together.

At Fifteen

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When I was fifteen years old, my dream came true.

One of them, anyway… I had several. One of my dreams was to be a published writer. I am getting very close (November 13, 2012, you mock me so! Come closer!) to that dream becoming a reality.

But this dream was the dream of a horse of my own. You know that Virginia Woolf quote… “Women, then, have not had a dog’s chance of writing poetry. That is why I have laid so much stress on money and a room of one’s own.” Well, it was like that for me. Only for me, it was a horse of my own that I lusted for so deeply.

All my life I had wanted a horse. Not that I was the only little girl who ever lived who wanted a horse. I know. Lots of girls want horses, and most of them never get one. But don’t fret too much… I’ve not had all my wishes granted. More on that later.

For now, the horse. By a trick of the housing market, my parents, who owned a home inspection company, found themselves in the enviable position of sudden wealth. Or very good credit, which looks just the same as wealth from a distance, or from a child’s perspective. And so there was, for a brief time, money for a horse.

Not just a horse, actually. My older sister got one, too, and my little baby sister got a very nasty pony named Buddy who bit a lot and tried his best to throw his rider.

I got a mare. Her name was Reignbeaux–pronounced Rainbow. She was a retired racehorse-turned-dressage Thoroughbred. She was fourteen years old and had a busted udder from nursing. It swung underneath her belly when she trotted but was otherwise largely unnoticeable.

The woman from whom we bought her placed the lead line in my hand after my parents placed a cashier’s cheque in hers and told me, “You’re going to have to start walking faster, now that you’ve got a Thoroughbred to lead.”

I led my mare to the mouth of the trailer and she willingly clambered inside. We drove to the stable where she would be kept–actually it was the backyard of my riding teacher; she had four stalls and a little tiny arena in her backyard, along with a constant circle of slow-moving flies.

That was one of the happiest days of my life.


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Where I Write

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This is where I write. Notice the composition of the photo: Bird sits and watches, sometimes making suggestions and smart-alecky comments (tail over the BACK of the computer, not the keyboard… very important); Sherman the Dog splays behind me in a sunny window. What you can’t see just out of frame is my ever-present cup of coffee, the two roaming cats, the running children.

This is not a peaceful workspace. Spills and “accidents” are more common than I’d like to admit. Most of what I’ve written in the last year happened right here, witnessed by a horde of pets.