Showing posts with label middle grade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label middle grade. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Five-star reviews for Will, Middle Name Trouble

First reviews are in for Will, Middle Name Trouble. YAY! 5 STARS

REVIEW: Will is a twelve-year-old boy who, in spite of his best efforts, is always in trouble. When his mouth and his reputation get him into more trouble than usual, his loyal friends rally around to help prove his innocence.

Will, Middle Name Trouble is Buffy Andrews second middle grade novel with MuseItUp Publishing, and once again she tells an entertaining story with a message. Young readers of all ages will laugh as Will gets himself into and out of trouble, and they will learn several life lessons in the process. First, Andrews shows that each person, no matter how perfect his or her life might seem, has insecurities and problems. In addition, her story reveals that people aren’t always who we think they are. Finally, her characters learn that the choices we make determine what kind of person we become.

Andrews is a multi-talented writer who has published books of many types. Regardless of the genre, however, her characters are always realistic and loveable, and her stories are finished before the reader is ready to stop.


REVIEW: This is a cute, fun read about a boy whose heart's always in the right place, even though the rest of him is usually in trouble. You'll love how Will and his friends come together and the way they grow during the course of the story.

Review my list of books available. 

Monday, September 22, 2014

Publication day for Will, Middle Name Trouble

So excited today that my second middle grade, WILL, MIDDLE NAME TROUBLE, is now available. WILL joins FREAKY FRANK in my line of middle grade books from MuseItYoung. Happy reading! 

BUY ON AMAZON

Sometimes we find more than we’re looking for… 

Will Moran is always getting into trouble. But this time, Will, who cleans and cooks and takes care of his younger twin sisters while his mom works, didn’t do it. 

Will’s class is collecting donations to benefit the local soup kitchen. Every time his teacher catches Will earning a buck from a bet, it ends up in the donation can. When the money goes missing, Will’s the prime suspect. After all, most of the money came from him. 

Will and his eclectic group of friends set out to find the thief and prove his innocence, but they end up finding so much more.



Other middle-grade books

Freaky Frank


Friday, June 27, 2014

Humorous middle grade 'Freaky Frank' is now out

WOOT! It's here. My humorous middle grade Freaky Frank from MuseItUp Publishing can be purchased here.


Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Apple (iTunes)

Omnilit

BookStrand

Smashwords




In many ways, Frank Fratello is a typical teen. He plays baseball, hangs out with his friends at the mall and gets in trouble at home. But there’s something very different about this sixth-grader—he can read minds. And reading minds can cause problems. Like when Frank says what someone is thinking before they say it. Or answers a question before they ask it. 

Despite being telepathic, Frank must deal with everyday middle school life, which includes battling a bully who hates him. Nasty Nate and his flunkies live to get others in trouble—especially Frank. 

But Frank and his friends aren’t giving up. There has to be some way to bring Nasty Nate down. They just have to find it.

First reviews: 5 Stars

REVIEW: Freaky Frank is a lot of fun to read, and even more fun to read out loud. My daughter and I read it together and we cracked up the whole time. I'm a fan of the anti-bullying message and Frank's authentic sense of humor. This book led to a lot of conversations in our family about whether we would want Frank's ability to read minds. In the end, we decided we like our thoughts, and the thoughts of others, kept silent.

REVIEW: I really enjoyed Freaky Frank. By trade, I am a middle school teacher, so I totally get the H-u-m-o-r with a capital H. Freaky Frank touches upon different personal and social issues that come up in a kid’s daily life, but with the added twist of mind reading to further complicate things. Freaky Frank takes a humorous look at these issues, and the names of the characters involved, along with all the body humor, give the story added appeal. This is a fun book

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Humorous middle grade 'Freaky Frank' will be out June 27


Big release day coming up for my humorous middle grade "Freaky Frank." If there is an 8- to 12-year-old child in your life, this would be a great read for them. I had so much fun writing it. 

This is the first of my middle grades that will be released from MuseItUp Publishing. The next one coming in the fall will be "Will, Middle Name Trouble."

About "Freaky Frank"


In many ways, Frank Fratello is a typical teen. He plays baseball, hangs out with his friends at the mall and gets in trouble at home. But there’s something very different about this sixth-grader—he can read minds. And reading minds can cause problems. Like when Frank says what someone is thinking before they say it. Or answers a question before they ask it.
Despite being telepathic, Frank must deal with everyday middle school life, which includes battling a bully who hates him. Nasty Nate and his flunkies live to get others in trouble—especially Frank.

But Frank and his friends aren’t giving up. There has to be some way to bring Nasty Nate down. They just have to find it.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Excerpt from 'Will'


I promised to share excerpts from my newest middle grade novel; here is one. My heart breaks whenever I read parts like this. 

...............................

The only thing I remember about my dad is his tattoo. It was barbed wire and wrapped around his bicep. When I was little, I’d sit on his lap and trace the tattoo with my pudgy fingers. I remember the day as clear as ice he told me about the tattoo.  

“You like that, Will?” he said. He took another sip of beer. “Got that when I was in the Marines. Something to do. When you’re older, maybe you can get one just like it. Then we’ll match.”

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Meet Will Moran


When I started writing my newest middle grade, “Will, Middle Name Trouble,” I had already spent lots of time with my character. He had been in my head for awhile, keeping me awake at night or tagging along when I went for my daily run. 

I knew that Will was naughty but that he was also good. He acted out a lot in school because it made kids laugh and he got some attention, something he didn’t get at home. At home, he had to watch his 4-year-old twin sisters at night while his mom cleaned office buildings to pay the bills. His dad had fallen in love with the bottle and took off when Will was 6 and the twins were newborns. 

Monday, January 11, 2010

Writing contest

Another contest from Mary Kole, associate agent at Andrea Brown Literary Agency on the West Coast. This  contest is for a novel beginning (up to 500 words) of your YA or MG novel. For details, check here: http://kidlit.com/kidlit-contest/

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Getting feedback from kids

So my managing editor’s daughter, who is way cool, was in the office today. She has read some of my middle-grade manuscripts and is a big fan. I’ve loved talking to her about what she liked about the different manuscripts. One of the things she liked was how the chapters ended with cliff hangers and she just had to keep reading to find out what was going to happen. So that was cool. My young nephew also read these manuscripts and said the same thing. Maybe I should pull together a little reader advisory council comprised of kids in the appropriate age range to send my manuscripts and get feedback. What do you think? Don’t they do that with new toys and stuff? Bring kids in and have them “test” the toys and provide feedback? I know when a syndicate rep brings comics for me to consider buying for the newspaper, I send them to numerous people to get feedback (graphic artists, reporters, copy editors, etc.). I also bring them home for my son, a comics fan, to read. And I have to say that this has worked pretty well. There have been times when everyone has said, “You must get this comic,” and I have and it’s a big hit. So, why not a reader advisory council? Could be a lot of fun. Has anyone ever done this? If so, how has it worked?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

My box has become a gift

This occurred to me yesterday. Think it has possibilities?

Annie's Gift

It started like an ordinary day, sunshine sneaking through the cracks in the blinds and spilling into the bedroom and the whiff of bacon snaking through the quiet house.
It started like an ordinary day, but it was anything but ordinary.
And it all started with an unexpected gift.
.. .. ..

Annie rolled over and hugged her stuffed lion, which was missing a brown eye and some of its tan fur. The lion was a present for her fourth birthday and every night for the past ten years she had slept with it. Well, except for when she stayed overnight at a friend’s house. She didn’t want the other girls to think she was a baby, so she left Charlotte at home. That’s what she named him – Charlotte after her mother who had died shortly after giving Annie the lion.
She named everything Charlotte. Every doll was Charlotte and every stuffed animal was Charlotte and every goldfish she ever won at the fair was Charlotte. Her dad, Will, figured it was Annie’s way of keeping her mother close. Charlotte had told Annie that the lion would give her courage. All Annie had to do was squeeze its right paw and say “a posse ad esse,” which Annie later discovered meant “from possibility to reality.” It didn’t make any sense to Annie, but she did it just the same. Anytime she needed a little courage, like when she tried out for the cheerleading squad, she’d squeeze Charlotte’s paw and say “a posse ad esse” and she always felt better.
The doorbell rang. Annie rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Who’s that at 7 on a Saturday, she thought. Annie whipped back her pink sheet and ran to answer the door. But when she opened it, the porch was empty. She stepped outside to look around.
Still, no one.
That’s when she saw it – a gift wrapped in pink paper and topped with a lime green bow, her favorite colors. It was beside the chipped black rocker her dad loved to sit in and read. Annie took the box inside and put it on the kitchen table.
“What’s that you got?” Will asked.
“It was on the porch, but no one was there.”
Will walked over. “Is there a name on it?”
“Yeah. Mine. But it’s not my birthday or anything. Who would give me a present for no special reason?”
Will picked up the gift and shook it. Whatever was inside slid from one end to the other. “Seems OK to me. Go ahead and open it. Maybe there’s a letter inside telling you who it’s from.”
“Sure?”
Will nodded and patted Annie’s head. He couldn’t believe how fast his little girl was growing up. With her curly blond hair and green eyes and long arms and legs, she looked more like her mother every day. God how he missed Charlotte. He dated some over the years, but no one ever came close to his Charlotte. He just couldn’t bring himself to open his heart to anyone else. Maybe someday. But not now. Now was for Annie. He would concentrate on raising Annie to be the young lady her mother always dreamed she would become.
“Mind if I open it upstairs?”
“Want some privacy, huh?”
Will smiled. Yes, his daughter was a typical teen – spending hours in her room, listening to music Will couldn’t stand and needing lots of privacy. It was hard for him to get used to at first. They had spent her childhood doing everything together. But he understood that she was growing up and needed her space. God he wished Charlotte was here. Wished they would have caught the hit and run driver who had hit her. She’d know just want to do. Annie needed a mother, and all she had was him.
Annie carted the box to her room. She wanted to open it in private in case it was sent as a joke from someone at school. It would be just like The Sisters (They weren’t really sisters but the group of popular girls called themselves that.) to pull such a prank. Get Annie all excited about a getting a gift only to open a box with some sort of joke inside. Like a pair of granny pants. They did that once to Petra, Annie’s best friend. Gave her a gift bag in the middle of the cafeteria and when Petra pulled out the granny pants everyone laughed. The Sisters ere mean. And, well, if it were them, she didn’t want her dad to see. He already worried about her enough. Thought she studied too much and needed to have more fun. Annie tried, but it didn’t come easy to her. She felt more comfortable with her nose between the pages of a book. And, besides, the other girls laughed at her when she tried out for cheerleading. She hadn’t told her dad, but after the first practice she didn’t go back. She went to the library instead and read until it was time for him to pick her up. When she didn’t make the team, he told her how proud he was that she had at least tried. She hated lying to her dad. But what she hated even more was disappointing him. Maybe one little lie, the only one she had ever told, wasn’t so bad if she didn’t do it again. Cheerleading wasn’t for her any more than playing basketball or softball was. She hadn’t made those teams either.
Annie sat on the bed. She took off the lime green bow and unwrapped the gift, peeling back the tape at the seams so the pink paper would remain in one piece. That’s how she approached life, carefully and methodically. She wasn’t the type who’d rip into a gift and have a million pieces of paper everywhere. She folded the pink paper and placed it next to the box. She’d find some use for it. Maybe she’d use it to wrap Petra’s present. Her favorite color was pink, too. Annie shook the box again, trying to guess what was inside. Then she opened the lid and her mouth dropped.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Opening the box

By the way, I'm opening the box (see earlier posts) today so we'll see where that takes me. I always know how I'm going to start a story and where I think I'll end up. But the middle? Well, not so much. I'm not a plotter when it comes to writing. That probably will surprise a lot of people given my obsessive nature. But when it comes to writing, I love the discovery, seeing where my characters will take me and what they will do and how they will overcome whatever conflict they face. It's like riding a roller coaster for the first time and not knowing exactly where the twists and turns are. It's like so much fun. It's exhilarating in a way that nothing else is. So what about you? Are you a plotter or a fly-by-a-seater like me? And why does whatever way you write work for you? Love to hear from fellow writers.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Opening The Box

I’ve been thinking about my box story (see earlier post) trying to figure out which way I want to go. The problem I’m having is that there are so many choices. I’m hoping my characters will talk to me. They usually do if I sit still enough to listen. I have to admit that this whole box idea occurred to me and then I was a bit crushed when I read about an upcoming movie, titled (guess what?) The Box. I mean, I had no idea there was a movie by the same working title of my newest middle grade (maybe I should change it). How does that happen? You have an idea for a story and you’re on your merry way and then you realize that there is a book or a movie or whatever with the same idea. Well, not quite the same. I mean, what’s in my box is totally different then what’s in their box. And my box will be delivered to a middle-schooler and send him/her on quite an adventure. Anyway writers, Does this ever happen to you?

P.S. I tried to shelve the box story but it keeps wanting to be opened. It’s hard for me to resist and then I figured, why even try. Go along for the ride and see where it takes you. What do you think?

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The box

It started like an ordinary day, sunshine sneaking through the cracks in the blinds and spilling into the bedroom and the whiff of bacon snaking through the quiet house.
It started like an ordinary day, but it was anything but ordinary.
And it all started with a box.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Excerpt from High Street Gang/Locket

Elizabeth was still on the computer when I walked up to her with a white jewelry box.

“Get lost," she said.

"But I thought you might like to see what I found."

She looked up. "You found a necklace? Let me see it. Let me see it.”

I took off the lid and wiggled my finger.

Elizabeth screamed so loud I thought the neighbors would call 911.

"Mmm. Road kill," I said, licking the blood off my finger.

"You pig! You pig! You're so gross!" She ran to the bathroom and I could hear her throwing up.

My plan worked perfectly. Elizabeth really thought that it was someone's finger I had found along the road. But it was just my finger smothered in ketchup. I had cut holes in the bottom of the jewelry box and cotton liner, poked my finger through the holes and rested it on the cotton liner.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth?" Mom yelled, running up the basement steps.

Uh-oh. Time to bolt.

"It's Mags. She found a finger on the road and has it in a jewelry box. There's blood all over it."

"Margaret Mary," Mom called.

I came downstairs all cleaned up.

"What's this about a finger in a box?"

"Don’t know what she’s talking about. I think Lizzy's reading too many horror novels.”

Elizabeth glared at me. "I saw it. It was in a necklace box."

I looked at Mom, shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

"Maybe Mags is right," Mom said. "Maybe you are reading too many horror novels. I’m not sure what’s up with you two, but it’s over. Dinner’s ready.”

I followed Elizabeth to the table.

"I'll get you back," she whispered. "You never know what can happen in a cemetery at night."

"Yeah," I said. "There are lots of dead fingers there, Lizzy. Maybe a few of them will grab you."

Monday, August 17, 2009

Excerpt from "The Brain Invaders'

But that’s me, Alex. Always trying to save the world, or at least those people I care about. And, lately, it seems like more and more of the people I care about are changing. They’re different. Not completely human. I know it sounds weird but I swear it’s the truth.

First Mrs. McGee. Then my sister’s old piano teacher and my minister.

They look like humans.

They walk and talk like humans.

But they aren’t completely human – and now I know why.

Friday, August 14, 2009

From "High Street Gang and Locket of Doom"

Excerpt from middle-grade novel

"But I’m scared,” A.J. said. “I don't mind walking through the cemetery when it’s light outside, but at midnight? Walking on top of all those dead people when it's dark gives me the creeps."

I wasn't crazy about the idea either. I mean, standing in the middle of a cemetery at midnight isn't my idea of fun. But I, Margaret Mary O'Malley, never back down from a dare. A.J.'s older brother, Tom, had dared our group, the High Street Gang, to walk through the cemetery at midnight.

"What’s there to be afraid of? Everyone’s dead. It’s not like they’re going to claw their way out of their coffins and grab you and pull you into their grave and we’ll never see you again. Besides, we can't chicken out. We'll never hear the end of it. And I really want to see if the statue cries."

"What statue?"

"The one in the middle of the cemetery. You know the one. The lady. It's the only statue in the entire cemetery. It cries."

Monday, August 10, 2009

Excerpt from Freaky Frank

I have a secret. I know things. Lots of things. About people. Like I know that my math teacher, Mr. Bugg, is going to pick his nose and wipe a boogie on the back of his yellow smiley face tie when he turns around to write on the board. And I know that Lacey, who sits next to me, is hoping that Jon, who sits behind me, asks her to our eighth-grade school dance. And that she really, really, really hopes that the pimple she popped and powdered before class doesn’t look like a giant apple on the tip of her nose. And that Jon doesn’t see said giant apple pimple when she accidentally-on-purpose bumps into him while leaving class.

See what I mean? I know tons of things. Freaky Frank. That’s me, all right.

Excerpt from Freaky Frank, latest middle-grade manuscript