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1. My turquoise obsession—I wear something turquoise every day, and even my toenails are painted turquoise all the time. I’ve tried wearing other colors, but it’s as if color has vibration, and I just feel off in red or orange or black. Turquoise hasn’t only taken over my closet. I surround myself with it. I have turquoise dishes in my turquoise kitchen, a turquoise Christmas tree, turquoise handbags, turquoise decor… you name it! And I even live in a turquoise house. My husband finally gave in to having it painted after years of my suggesting it. Sometimes, after a long day in a somewhat dull world, it makes me so happy to pull up to my pretty turquoise house.
2. I can surf and ride a skateboard—I bought a skateboard in college and asked the little skater kid down the street to teach me to ride it. He even taught me to Ollie—practicing on carpet at first. I’m not very good, but I can do it! I started surfing almost 15 years ago when my son learned to surf. I only go out in small waves, and I definitely “surf like a mom,” but it’s one of my favorite things to do.
3. My admittedly irrational fears—I read A Short History of Nearly Everything and when I learned in detail about the possibility (the very slim possibility) of asteroids slamming into the earth without warning, I haven’t been able to look up at the night sky the same again. Sometimes I imagine movie-like scenarios and let my imagination get the best of me. My similar fears of tsunamis, black widows and other random dangers make me wonder if this is the downside of having an overactive, creative mind.
4. I still get a toy for Christmas—When I was too old for toys (by my mom’s standards) I started getting only clothes and other more mature gifts for Christmas. While I certainly appreciated the presents, I remember I felt like the magic of Christmas was gone. When I told my mom, she decided to add just one toy under the tree each year, all the way into adulthood. And now my husband buys me one toy each year. Something about a colorful toy and its playfulness, no matter how small and simple, excites me and continues to bring out the kid in me.
5. My outrageous number of rejections—I probably received well over 1,000 rejection letters in my writing career. I submitted each of my seven novels to agents and publishers over the years, and while the “no’s” were not always easy to take, I learned so much from them. The early no’s were often simple form letters, but the later ones (the ones that came after publishers and agents said yes to reading my novels) were more detailed and personal and sometimes even encouraging. They not only taught me specifics on how to improve my writing, but they also taught me that “no” is not the end of the world, and persistence can change everything.
Young Carson Calley has a rare and magical gift of healing, a gift which both defines him and threatens to betray him. He lives in Hollywood motels with his alcoholic, fortune-telling mother, Juliette. She nurtures his gift, but her ways are deceptive. She feeds the boy fantastical stories to convince him of his greatness. At fourteen, Carson finally wises up to her lies and his identity is completely shattered. Juliette is too deep in her addiction to help him separate the facts from the fictions, so he looks for answers on the streets of Hollywood. There he finds Faris, a tattoo shop owner, and Casper, a cashier at a head shop. These two unlikely mentors help this troubled yet extraordinary boy find his way to the truth.
Enjoy an excerpt:
Putting my hands over her head I felt the tiny stars that always came. It felt like thousands of them came pouring out of my hands. I couldn’t see them with my eyes; I could only see them with my eyes closed. But I could feel them. They filled my hands with heat, and when I shared them with my mom, they made her feel better.
I don’t remember the first time I used the stars, just like I don’t remember the first time I used my voice. When I asked my mom how I got them, she said I just knew I had them in me—the same way I knew I had words in me.
Publisher Website: http://www.bluemarybooks.com
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