Dear Publisher, I'm sorry for the things I did while on deadline

Now that I'm basically out of the woods (as T-Swift would say) with my deadline for "Silver Lined" I feel like this open letter of apology to my publisher is safe to post. I mean... don't get me wrong, I had to kill myself to get this book written and edited in time for its release... but when I wasn't killing myself, I was procrastinating. Big time. And so, without further adieu, a letter to my publisher.

Dear Publisher,

I'm sorry for the things I did while I was on a deadline to get "Silver Lined" written. Things like:

Rearranging my closet to look like "The Paradise".

Actually WATCHING "The Paradise" and shipping Denise and Moray, hardcore.

Watching an entire season of Pretty Little Liars.

Then proceeding to make my own Stiles-esque clue board about who "A" is. (PS, I totally cracked that nut!).

Trying to learn Spanish (again).

And then giving up and admitting I really want to learn French but probably never will because seriously? Why is nothing said the way it's written? Come on France, get your crap together.




Teaching myself to learn a few songs on my new Ukulele (his name is Yonezy, by the way. See video for details).



Taking almost two hours out of my day to complete the AWFUL SilverWastes jumping puzzle with my trusty guildmates Dan, Monica, and Hope.

Completing nearly 80 levels worth of personal story in Guild Wars 2 (PS, Trahearne and I are totally tight (even though he's not a real person or whatever). We basically saved the world together. NDB).

(Epic dragon thing I killed)

(Trahearne saying I'm the best ever)

Designing book covers for my other books, Parrish and Beyond Lyra.

You totally thought I was going to post a picture of them, didn't you? Nice try. I promise to reveal them soon!

Writing about 5,000 #CreepyJeffersonTexts with Ashlee to further delve into the weird inner workings of Jefferson Parrish's mind so I can write him properly.

Writing basically ALL of Beyond Lyra (okay more like 3/4 of the book) when I should have been working on Silver Lined (BL is SO much easier to write. It's not my fault Dystopian requires so much attention!).

And just generally having panic attacks when I sat down to write this book because I wanted so badly to do it justice and I was terrified I'd mess it all up. But I think we're good, people. I was able to actually write the things I meant to write and I'm really going to miss writing these characters. Now I'll just have to write my own personal side-stories for them whenever I miss them :) I don't know that I'll ever have another character as messed up and fantastically fun to write as Eris.

So please accept this former apology, Publisher. I promise that 'bidness' actually got done by the time it needed to!

Until next time,

Shannen

Did I mention Silver Lined has a cover? Because it does :)

Behold! The beauty of Rue Volley's design!!!

The Trilogy will finally be completed this April!

Happy Birthday Under Zenith!

So my friend Katie pointed out to me that my book baby Under Zenith is turning 1 today! To think, that ornery British man and his stubborn Southern counterpart have been getting on each other's nerves for an entire year now! And of course they spurred a sequel out of me AND a whole twisted, tragic, interesting back story for the gang in my Parrish book series. Heck, they even managed to weasle their way into the Parrish books just because I couldn't let them go.

(Amazon/Goodreads)

So happy birthday Hayden and Isla (heretofore known as Hayla according to Ashlee Wille who gave them a celebrity couple name)! I hope you never stop bothering each other and I can't wait to share your sequel with the world in July!


Here's a lovely picture for you :)

And the two people in this world who were destined to play Hayla... one day.... like right now please.

And last but not least, some Hayla love:

            “You almost did a good job out there,” he answered, finally managing to get a fire going. “Almost.”

            “Oh, well I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your high standards of zombie dodging.”

            “Maybe the next task will go a bit smoother,” he said with a shrug.

            I really didn’t like this guy.

            “What kind of place is this? What kind of afterlife makes you run away from zombies under the guise of completing an agility test?” I asked, sitting on an old wooden rocking chair and disturbing a few spiders that had been resting in the woodwork.

            “Guise? Fancy word for someone so…,” he let his words trail off.

            “What?” I asked threateningly, daring him to finish his sentence.

            “Southern.”

            “I graduated from a well-respected university yesterday, thank you very much,” I informed him.

            “With a degree in vocal performance,” he pointed out. “Then you got yourself killed.”

            “Oh yeah? Well what did you major in? How to piss people off?”

            “Yeah, that was my major,” he deadpanned. “You know what your problem is?”

            “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

            “You worry about the wrong things. All of your anxiety is completely misplaced,” he said, his British accent getting thicker now that he was upset.

            I wished I didn’t find the accent so alluring. Though I’d never admit that to Hayden. He didn’t need a reason for his ego to be inflated any more than it already was.

            “How is it misplaced?” I asked, trying to keep my cool as he took a seat on the moldy bed across from me.

            “You’re dead, Isla,” he said simply, as if that should explain his cryptic opinions. “You died last night and you haven’t said one word about being sad or upset. All you’ve done is worry about your family’s finances, or question my chivalry, or figure out some new and interesting way to make me want to throw you off a cliff.”

            He shook his head in disbelief and threw me an eye roll.

            “Aren’t you the least bit upset that your entire life was stolen away from you at such a young age?”

            I didn’t say anything to him, not wanting to get into something so personal with someone so unfeeling. Of course I was upset, but as long as I didn’t explore those feelings, it would almost be like they weren’t real.