Harry Potter Blogfest!

My fellow Italian Taurus, Michael Di Gesu, is hosting a blogfest I couldn't resist, even though I must seem like a blogfest-aholic by now.  Maybe I am.  Whatev.

Anyhow, if you haven't already, run over to Michael's blog and sign up for the Harry Potter Blogfest!

The object is simple- name the two people from Hogwarts you would most like to be your friends, and explain why.

Before I do that, let me explain which Hogwartsian I would like to be, and why. 



 The "who" is Cho Chang. 

The why is purely hormonal.  See, our girl Cho had the good fortune to lip-lock with Harry, who, though a bit scrawny for my taste, apparently ain't so shabby beneath those wizard robes:

But before Harry, Cho's main squeeze was Cedric Diggory.  And we all know who played Cedric Diggory in the movie, don't we....

So he wasn't nearly as pastey or brooding in Harry Potter world, but Rob pulls off hot whether he's rocking a wand or some deathly pale makeup.

And no, the life-sized Edward does not belong to me, it belongs to my cousin.  My much younger cousin.  So please retain any respect you might have for me.

Anyhow, once I'd inhabited Cho Chang's body, I would waste no time befriending these two young ladies:  Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood.



Why?  Let's start with Hermione.  Sure, she's a bit of a know-it-all, but it's not without merit.  The girl is SMART.  If you're going to travel in the same circle as Harry Potter, you're going to be in constant danger.  So who better to have on your side than a girl so focused on honing her spells, she turned back time just to fit more classes into her schedule?  Now that's dedication.

And speaking of dedication, Hermione is no slouch in the friend department, either.  She's been turned into a cat via polyjuice-potion-gone-wrong, petrified by a basilisk, and thrown in harm's way more than once, but she never waivers in her determination to help Harry defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters.  That's the kind of girl I want on my team.  Without her, Harry would have been toast on more than one occasion.

I also love the fact that she's Muggle-born, and can still show up the best of the wizarding "purebloods."  I have a special place in my heart for girls (people in general, but especially girls) who start off at a disadvantage, but don't let it stop them from kicking some ass.  Hermione does it with pinache, right down to the constant trading of barbs with Ron. 

As for Luna, I just find her highly entertaining.  Yes, she's a space cadet, but there's more going on beneath that roaring lion hat than anyone gives her credit for.  She may seem to be off in another world, but it's all part of Luna's charm.

And who else would think to answer the question, "What came first, the phoenix or the flame" with, "I think the answer is that a circle has no beginning."  The best part is, the gargoyle to whom she gave the answer responded with, "Well reasoned," and let her pass.

My theory?  The gargoyle gave her points for the simple WTF factor of her answer.

Luna may be different, even by wizarding standards, but she and Hermione share the trait of being a loyal friend.  Even after being kidnapped for her father's controversial Quibbler articles, Luna remained a steadfast member of Team Harry.  'Atta girl.

Besides, it couldn't hurt to have protection from all those Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkack's - especially since no one else can see them.

We'd make one awesome trio, Luna, Hermione, and me :)

YAtopia Giveaway

Heads up- more great prizes available today over at the YAtopia blog.  Run over and put in your entry!

Double The Awesome Giveaway!

I wasn't going to post anything today, because I was VERY frustrated with Blogger.  I had three posts in my drafts, all ready to go and just waiting for me to hit the post button.  But lo and behold, when I went to edit them yesterday, I found all the pictures I'd painstakingly inserted had turned into tiny blue squares.  AARGH!

So what did I do?  I went back online, found more pictures, did more inserting and then a few hours later... the same thing happened.

I cursed Blogger up and down and swore to give it the cold shoulder.  But today, I came across this contest on Diana Paz's blog, and couldn't resist passing on the chance to win some awesome prizes!  If you've been dying to read Wake and Fade by Lisa McMann or Wicked Lovely and Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, head over and enter!

Clark Kent vs. Superman

I was at a doctor's appointment Wednesday morning when I spotted an issue of Entertainment Weekly on their magazine rack.  The cover showed off the newest Superman, someone I hadn't really heard of before: Henry Cavill. 

I thought to myself, that's the new Superman?  He's not even that cute.

Um... and THEN I got up off my butt.  And when I got up close, I almost turned into a big puddle of Gina right on that hideous, regulation doctor's office carpet.  Behold, the newest Superman:

I've made no secret of my weakness for light-eyed, dark-haired handsomeness, but this guy... HOLY SWOOOON!

And it only got better with the photo spread inside, because as perfectly as he pulls off the brooding, I'm-too-sexy-for-my-smile pose, guess what - he's ten times as cute when he smiles.  I couldn't find a picture I liked to prove it, but take my word for it.

Is it pathetic that I'm giggling like a teenager with a crush as I write this post?  Totally.

But this isn't even the first time I've gone gaga for someone who's donned the red cape.  I've mentioned several times that I have a long-standing crush on Tom Welling, who's been making me drool as Clark Kent on Smallville for the past eight years.  Well, five years.  I ranted at length in this post about the decline of Smallville after season five (the theme song still rocks, though.  See video below).

So what is it about this superdude that makes me crazy?  'Cause I gotta tell you, it certainly ain't the blue spandex suit.  Worst. Superhero costume.  Ever. 

As it turns out, I'm not like Lois Lane, who is only in love with the Superman persona.  Nope.  After thinking long and hard about it, I am officially all about Clark Kent.

It makes perfect sense.   He's a journalist.  He likes writing.  I like writing.  See where this is going? 

Maybe it's because everyone and their mother claims to have a weakness for the confident boy, the "bad boy."  But I've never been a follow-the-crowd type girl, and I think smart is sexy.  I like guys who can rock glasses.  I like guys who are shy, and maybe even a little awkward, but still able to step up when you need them.  Add to the mix a business suit with abs of steel underneath, and for me, it's the epitome of hot.

Granted, Henry's and Tom's amazing eyes, adorable smiles, perfect bone structure and killer bods aren't hurting the situation any.  Even the thickest, blackest glasses can't hide those puppies. 

But ultimately, I'm a dork, and I love me a cute, dorky member of the opposite sex.  The only problem is, I can't tear my clothes apart and reveal my suddenly sexy, super-coordinated alter ego.  It's still just dorky, accident-prone me under there.

You can bet I won't be complaining, though, when Henry and Tom whip off their glasses to reveal those baby blues, or rip their shirts opent to reveal.... blech.  The blue spandex.  On second thought, keep the business suit on.  Or even Henry's "S" t-shirt. 

That neon blue unitard has GOT to go.  

Somebody Save Me indeed!  So who sets you swooning?  Superman, Clark Kent, Tom, or Henry? : )

In Which I Conquer the Query Letter

Between all the blogfests I've entered lately, and getting totally psyched about my new work in progress, I've almost forgotten about something hanging over my head: my query letter.

It's so easy to forget about that pesky little thing when you're neck-deep in revisions.  It's even easier when you let someone read those revisions, and they tell you they love the story so much that they will die if you don't get it published (you are utterly adorable, Aleeza, and your enthusiasm is a huge boost to my confidence!).

But alas, if I ever AM going to get published, I have to nail that S-O-B.

And this is where I'm stuck.

Trying to shrink 84,000+ words into a 250-word, mind-blowing summary is literally making me feel like my head is going to explode.

They say "be honest" when writing your query.  They say "be concise."  They say it should be "grabbing." Well, I can do that.  I'm brilliant at being brutally honest.  In that case, I should be able to write the perfect query letter.  I'll try it.  Here goes:

Dear Agent,
Just read the damn manuscript!

Thank you for your time and consideration,
Gina

How's that for honest?  And how about "grabbing?"  Could it get any more concise? 

I did it!  I did it!  I've written the perfect query letter! 

I'll be published in no time!

If only I were really that delusional, and if only it were really that easy.  Happy Wednesday, all!

Luck O' the Irish Blogfest!

So I'm not even a little Irish, but I had the perfect scene from my YA work-in-progress to contribute to the Luck O' the Irish Blogfest. 

I know it's more excerpt than flash fiction, but the theme and the length both fit, so I hope Colene and Alexia won't mind that I still wanted to participate!

In this scene, two of the main characters, Kelsey and David, are at a Saint Patrick's Day party thrown by Kelsey's boyfriend, Ryan.  I hope you like it!  If you don't... not sure I want to know!

David's hands were perfectly steady as he placed them on either side of my face, his thumbs stroking my jaw bone. If he hadn't been exhaling pure alcohol instead of carbon dioxide, I would have wondered if he wasn't as drunk as he looked.

“Stop pretending you don’t miss me,” he said.


I blanched. "Jesus Dave, have another Car Bomb."


He grinned and leaned in closer. "Wanna taste?"


“Don’t.” My voice was razor sharp.


His bleary eyes searched mine. Seeing that I wasn’t playing around, the corners of his mouth turned down and he pulled back a fraction of an inch. “Fine.”


Then, before I could stop him, he leaned in and softly kissed the shamrock painted on my cheek instead.  My knees buckled. How dare he? We’d done nothing but fight since he’d breezed back into my life. Now, here he was, in his stupid, ancient, Kiss Me, I’m Irish t-shirt, acting like the last year had never happened.  Making it impossible to concentrate on anything but the warmth of his lips, so close to mine.  Touching me so that I couldn’t even remember why I wasn’t supposed to want this.


“Am I interrupting something?” Ryan.


That was why.


The screen door slammed before I could answer. David’s hands slipped from my face as Ryan stormed off into the house, and I literally felt my heart rip in two, like they’d been using it in a game of tug-of-war.


I couldn’t think about how I was going to fix this. The only thing going through my head was the dumbest thought possible.

Where's the luck of the frigging Irish when I need it?  Happy effing Saint Patrick’s Day.

And now, the musical stylings of my favorite angel-voiced Irish lass, Mary from Waking Elliot!  (Sorry, but I have to post this every chance I get because I just love her voice, and this song, and because my cousin is in the video!)

Delusional Gloom Blogfest!

I'm catching wind of this at the last minute, but I totally wanted to join the Delusional Gloom Blogfest!  I chose what is probably the most morbid option, which is to write my own obituary.  Here's what I was able to come up with on the fly:

Gina M. Ciocca, age 30, was found dead in her home on Tuesday, March 15th.  Cause of death is undetermined, but Mrs. Ciocca was face-down in her keyboard, igniting suspicion that her last attempt at querying her unpublished novel may have done her in.

Gina is predeceased by her two grandfathers, Antonio, and Gino, for whom she is named.  They are currently getting on her case in Heaven for being an Italian who doesn't speak Italian, or drink coffee, who rarely drinks wine, and has never been to Italy.  Eternity is going to feel very long for this young woman. 

She is survived by her loving parents, one sister, several siblings-in-law, and eleven first cousins, all of whom were taller and better looking than the deceased.  To quote Gina: "WTF is up with that?"  She is also survived by her beloved husband, the only person of those mentioned above to possess knowledge of Gina's secret attempts at authorhood.  Mr. Ciocca says, "I knew she hated querying, but I never thought it would lead to this.  What am I supposed to do now?  I don't know how to cook!"

While cooking was not one of Gina's favorite past times, she enjoyed shopping, spending time with her loud and loving family, shopping, jogging, and of course, reading and writing.  Gina was always in advanced reading classes in school, and forever had her nose in a book.  She was famous for bringing books to parties and picnics, ignoring her mother's accusations of being anti-social.  Though Gina later dropped her habit of bringing her own entertainment to parties, she adopted the motto, "I own my anti-socialness!"  Sadly, she passed before realizing her dream of publication, and also before realizing her slightly more piddly dream of hosting a contest on her blog.

Ironically, the title of Gina's unpublished novel is Life Before Death.  Currently, it is being burned, page by page, by her husband as he screams, "You're the reason she never wanted to watch TV with me!"  Gina's friends and family take comfort in knowing she'll watch over them in Life After Death.