This Is My Secret: The Blog and Website of Writer Kristin Cashore

(Except that I know the reason for the empty space inside -- I need a snack. Crosby, Stills, & Nash, btw, in case you didn't go to a liberal arts school in New England and hear the song "Helplessly Hoping" sung a million time a cappella. ^_^)
So, I am in a bit of a waiting period. I await the FedEx man (or theWells Fargo wagon, if you happen to be a fan of the Music Man), who comes bearing Fire. It is time for my second revision.
*pauses to grasp stomach and command self not to cry*
I may never understand why Fire is such a hard book for me to face. The support of my editor, my publisher, my agent, and my readers who like it is enormously helpful, because it reminds me that even if the book sometimes makes me feel horrible, it isn't necessarily because it itself is horrible. !! Perhaps someday I'll be struck by some grand metaphorical explanation for my Fire despair -- "Ah, yes! The burnt carrot stew on page 125 is reminiscent of the time I watched…

What are your favorite sounds?
Here are some of mine: Orchestras tuning up. Rain on the roof of a parked car. Bagpipes. Walking through autumn leaves. Thunderstorms.
I'm home again; I got home just in time for tropical storm Fay. I spent Thursday through Saturday listening to some pretty dramatic sounds, torrential rain and scary bursts of wind, as Fay crawled her way across northeast Florida. On Friday morning, Cordelia called me. "We just moved our cars to higher ground," she said. (Cordelia lives about six blocks from me and only one block from the St John's River, which was flooding.) "Want to come over for waffles?"
I looked out the window. Rain poured from the sky and half a palm tree was floating down the street. I said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Well, at the very least," she said, "you need to come see the river. It's almost up to our street and it has waves like the ocean. And soon it'll b…

There was always something a little off about our cat Maggie. It was hard to say whether she ran headlong into walls because there was a problem with her brains, or whether there was a problem with her brains because she kept running headlong into walls. She lost her balance like other cats never did; she neglected her own grooming; she missed the litter box most of the time; she was a little bit stinky. She was terrified of strangers and she was so skittish -- the smallest noise, and she'd bolt. And she'd sit purring contentedly while you petted her, and you'd think, Hey, Maggie's turned normal -- but then, when she'd been petted enough, she'd let you know by biting you. I don't mean a friendly little nip -- I mean she'd BITE you. Hard. Sometimes there was blood. I'm certain she wasn't trying to be mean or aggressive; it was just another example of Maggie not knowing the socially correct way to do things. I think everyone in my family …

(Recently overheard in my household, pronounced by a person who had lost the bucket)
If I could only bottle the way I feel when I'm driving to the airport at 4am, I would never be afraid of anything. The day before I travel tends to be a misery. I read The House at Pooh Corner and weep about how hard it is to grow up. I have never understood what the hell my problem is. I suppose the anticipation of travel stirs up some sort of resistance to change, the fundamental fear of death, except in my case, it isn't the fear of death by falling airplane; it's the fear of death by what if I forget to pack Q-tips? Or my chapstick? Or my cheese-avocado-egg sandwich?
Anyway, once in the car or the cab or the subway or whatever, I always feel so much better. On Saturday morning at 4am I was in the car driving to the airport listening to "Your Love" by the Outfield and Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings and cheerily contemplating my dreadful clutch and kind of wishing …

The sun has gone down on the Olympics for me a tiny bit ever since Ian Thorpe retired; how I miss the battles between the Thorpedo and Pieter von den Hoogenband! And MUST they keep showing the President looking like a bored frat boy as he watches the events? Here I am, all gleefully proud of the American men's 4 x 100 freestyle relay team, and then I see that person. Go away. You have done nothing but break my heart for 8 years and you make me ashamed.
Ahem. That was not an auspicious beginning. So let me quickly distract you with a really fun movie meme, gakked from my friends Jess and Wanda. (*waves at Jess and Wanda*)
1. I picked 15 of my favorite movies. 2. I went to IMDb and found a quote from each movie. 3. I posted them here for everyone to guess. 4. NO GOOGLING/using IMDb search functions. I'm talking to you! 5. I'll strike out each quote when someone guesses correctly, and write in who guessed it and the movie. 6. If it turns out that I've been too tricky, I…

Forget your perfect offering.There is a crack in everything -- That's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen

It has been a lovely few days.
The photo shoot on Thursday was an absolute hoot, thanks to my photographer, Jensen Hande, who has a great personality and knows just how to coax out my inner warrior and my inner wimp. (Not that the wimp took much coaxing.) Hopefully I'll have some pics to share soon to show you what I mean!
On Friday I went to the sea. I don't do this too much in the summer, because it's too hot and crowded. But Friday was stormy and cool (a relative term here), and well, I just felt like it, so I went. It's a 20 mile drive, and parts of that drive are icky and never to be attempted during rush hour, but other parts are beautiful with tall bridges that shoot you off into the sky, and water water everywhere, and big boats. I LOVE big boats.
And when I got to the sea, there was a rainbow!
I had a wonderful walk and sang at the top of my lungs a…

It is so effing hot here that there are no words to describe it. The air conditioners are working their little hearts out, but to little avail.

Last week School Library Journal interviewed me, and on Wednesday I went to a costume shop and selected a beautiful medieval dress and a sword for my photo shoot! I even selected a snood. What's a snood? Well, it's not unlike a thneed. And a thneed, as you probably know, is a fine something that all people need.
It was super-fun, which surprised me, because I hate choosing clothes and am not really a girly-girl when it comes to things like trying on dresses, but as it turns out, deciding whether I'm a bar wench, a princess, a peasant, or a lady-in-waiting brought me much contentment. There was a snood emergency at one point, but a kind young lady on the staff helped me through it.

We're taking the pictures today.

And now! My 32nd birthday is coming up in a few days, and I have a birthday announcement! As of today, I will nev…

So, Lynyrd Skynyrd was at my gate at the airport on Friday morning. This did not make up for the fact that Delta was in an enormous snafu such that all flights were delayed and I couldn't make my connecting flight and there were no seats on any later flights that could possibly get me to South Bend in time for my cousin's wedding party on Saturday. Even if I flew through Cincinnati instead of Atlanta. Even if I tried my luck and flew standby. Even if I went home and came back later. No flights. Nada. Nichts. Niente.
I was somewhat astonished -- I've had long delays and reroutes before, I've been stuck in Chicago due to blizzards, I was stuck in LA once due to a volcano in New Zealand, but I was always able to go where I needed to go eventually. But not this time. So I left the airport, got back in my car, and drove home, because there was nothing else to do. I went to the bagel store and got the bagels I'd failed to get on Wednesday. I went to the grocer…