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I liked the premise of The Vow. A tragic car accident strips a woman of her memories of her entire life with her husband. He has to try to make her fall in love with him all over again.
However, with the past 5 years erased, she bonds with her long estranged family and reconnects with her life before him.
Channing Tatum did an amazing job portraying the frustration of a husband who remembers every moment of his life with the woman he loves, but is a complete stranger to her.
The movie was told mostly from his POV and maybe that’s why I found the wife utterly unlikeable. He was so giving and he tried so hard. And she never appreciated it.
She came off as a selfish creature with no redeeming qualities. I wanted to see what her husband saw in her, but I didn’t. She acted like a spoilt brat from the moment she woke up in the hospital until the credits ran.
This is not Rachel McAdams’ fault. She did a good job with this role.
Frankly, I was rooting for the husband to divorce her ass and find someone who could love him back because he deserved that.
I didn’t shed a tear the entire movie.
I was too busy being pissed off at this stupid wife who only thought of her feelings the entire time. She squandered his love. I wanted him to run off with his partner in the recording studio.
I have no clue why it took me so long to see The Descendants.
I absolutely loved how much setting the film used. Huge beach vistas and busy city streets in Hawaii. Totally grounded me in the story.
The story is about a workaholic father who is the backup parent until his wife has a boating accident. Right after he is told she won’t wake up from her coma and her living will kicks in, he finds out about his wife’s infidelity. Touching, heart-warming, realistic, tragic, humorous, and conflicted don’t begin to describe it.
I have never seen actors act so flawlessly you forgot you were watching a movie and you were sucked right into their world. You believed this was happening. And you took the entire emotional journey with this family.
George Clooney and Shailene Woodley are beyond gifted. There is this scene where she breaks down in the pool–wow. Just wow.
It earned every accolade it achieved in this New York Times Review.
I’m going to have to add the book to my reading list.
It’s banana pancake drizzled in honey with vanilla ice cream good news.
I made it to the second round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest!!
I didn’t mention entering because I’ve entered a few contests and never made it beyond the initial round. But this time out of 5000 possible entries, only 1000 moved on to the next round. And I was among them!
The first round was judged solely on pitch, which makes me so grateful to Backspace for helping me hone my pitch.
At the Backspace Agent-Author Seminar in November, the talented and insightful Louise Fury and Lois Winston dissected my query and helped me see what wasn’t working and why. I came back the next day with a revised query that a new set of agents said was very strong and my writing group complimented.
That pitch went on to the Writer’s Digest Conference to get me 5 partial. So a huge thanks to Backspace for bringing me one leap further in the query letter and the pitch. 
By making it to the second round, I win the third prize which is an Amazon Editors excerpt review. I can use that for marketing materials if I decide to self publish and don’t materially change the book. That’s pretty cool. I’ve never won a prize before in a writing contest.
So what happens in round two? Expert reviewers (Amazon editors and one Amazon Top Reviewer) review and judge an excerpt of my novel. Only the top 250 move on to the quarter finals. They post the results around March 12th. *Fingers crossed I’m among them*
****
I had a residual blonde moment while trying to figure out if I place in the 2nd round….
I open my email from Amazon announcing that they posted the list of authors who made it to the second round of the contest. Excited and nervous, I click on the link. It’s a huge pdf file where the contestants are listed alphabetically by first name.
I’m K so I start scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. Suddenly I get to J. My stomach plummets. I didn’t see any Ks. I guess I didn’t place. That disappointed feeling rolls over me.
Wait, something is off. I pause. But what? I recite the alphabet aloud. Ah, K comes after J. 
I scroll some more and see my name!!!!! Do my happy dance, print out the list of names, check it again and run to show Mom.
Many thanks to my blog and Twitter followers who participated. You’ve got awesome blogs and I enjoy reading all your posts!
Drumroll please…
We have a winner of the personalized autographed copy of Paige Shelton’s If Fried Chicken Could Fly.
Huge Congrats go to:
TheMadGayMan
I’m going to shoot you an email with all the details this afternoon (look for an email from kourtney.heintz@yahoo.com), but just wanted you to start thinking about how you want the autograph personalized.
Thanks for participating!
I’m hoping to have a few more contests throughout the year. So if you didn’t win this time, there will be a next time. I promise.
Today Grandma H and I went on our weekly outing. I needed to drop off two snail mail queries for agents at our local post office.
Grandma hates parking. She pulls in and goes “Uh-oh.”
There’s a freaking oil truck taking up four spots. Luckily there are two spots open. I point to them and say, “There’s two spots.”
Grandma pull into both spots. Literally. The middle of the car is on the line between the spots. I look at her. “I didn’t mean take two spots. You should have picked one.”
She shrugs and cuts the engine. “Just go mail your stuff.”
****
A while later, we are driving down the main road, Wolcott Road, and she sees signs that say Road Work Ahead.
“I’m not going that way,” she says.
I look down the road. “The roadwork is on the other side.”
“I don’t care.” She puts on her blinker to take Sharon Rd.
There’s a guy in front of us and we have a green light but it’s a left hand turn and there is oncoming traffic. He edges up. She edges up. He turns and she is right on his butt. I see the oncoming traffic and gasp.
“I saw them. We had enough time.”
I mutter, “We always do when it’s my side of the car.”
She says, “I’d have swerved into a car to save you.”
“Great so we’d be hit on both sides.”
She starts laughing.
As we pass a field on Sharon Road, she tells me, “A man committed suicide there 80 years ago.”
I ask, “How did he commit suicide?”
“He was having an affair with the neighbor’s wife.”
I ask, “He committed suicide while having sex?” This is a kinky story.
She shakes her head. “No, I’m telling the story from the beginning.”
“Ah. It would have helped if you said that.”
*****
We get to the mall and go to Olive Garden. There’s a line and the prices are higher than IHOP. So we go to our place, IHOP.
I order the above which is “Green Eggs and Ham” and is part of their The Lorax related specials. I loved Dr. Seuss.
So I tell her, “I’m having green eggs and ham.”
She looks at it. “So you are. That’s like the Dr. Seuss books I used to read Paulie.”
“Yup.”
“I think I read them to you too.”
*****
Grandma H has a coupon that when she spends $25, she gets 2.50 off the bill at the grocery store. So we go over. We get the items she needs but they tally to $18. So I show her Chobani yogart 4/$5.
“What flavors do they have?” she asks.
“Strawberry,” I say.
“Your aunt can’t have seeds.”
“I thought these were for you.” Strawberry is her favorite flavor. But I switch to selecting flavors for Auntie.
“What else?”
“Blueberry?”
“No.”
“Vanilla?”
“Okay.”
“Mango?”
“Okay.”
“What’s that lemon one?”
“Pineapple,” I say.
“I’ll take it.”
“Should I get another vanilla? You need four.”
“What happened to the strawberry?” she asks.
“You said Auntie couldn’t have that.”
“That’s for me. Two are for her, two are for me. And I want the strawberry.”
“Okay.” I grab it and add it to her cart. Our total comes to 24.18 after the $2.50 discount.
*****
Last weekend it was the anniversary of my grandfather’s death, we saw my aunt at the cemetery by his grave. We pulled in to see her and Grandma H was sitting in the car. Grandma H saw us and leapt out.
“Your grandfather died today. Five years ago.”
I nod.
She waves toward his gravestone. “Go Pray.”
I look at her. She knows I’m not Catholic.
She dissolves into giggles and doubles over.
My mom looks over. “What’s going on?”
Grandma H and I are giggling like kids.
“Nothing I say.”
Grandma H chuckles and gets back in the car.
Quick reminder The Free Book Contest entry deadline is tomorrow at 7 AM EST. Click here to enter to win a personalized autographed copy of New York Times Bestselling Author Paige Shelton’s book, If Fried Chicken Could Fly!
Onto the Best Rejection Letter…
Sometimes you get a rejection letter that makes you want to send air kisses to the agent. Or at least hug a tree in their name.
On my current manuscript, I get a lot of “not for me.” Maybe it’s the topic, maybe it’s the query, maybe it’s the writing. And maybe, it just doesn’t fit their tastes.
I’m almost immune to the not for me. It’s like getting chicken pox over and over again. You learn to live around it.
Anyway, to my complete surprise this week I got a very kind, very personalized rejection on a partial.
I’ve deleted names but this is what the lovely lovely agent sent me.
Hey Kourtney!
I really like your writing and the story idea…so intriguing and it really draws you in.
However, my boss is on my back about having too many unpublished authors. So, I’m sorry to say that I can’t take this project on at the moment. I don’t at all mean to keep you waiting, but I’d be happy to see this sometime down the road if you don’t have an agent for it.
Agent X
This rejection actually gave me an infusion of hope. That is the coolest thing an agent can do when they reject you.
I really appreciated this rejection letter. So thanks to a stellar agent who took the time to let me know what was working in the story.
Paige Shelton’s If Fried Chicken Could Fly is a delicious romp in the former wild west town of Broken Rope, Missouri, with a cast of absolutely engaging characters that you are dying to spend another book with. I’d jump in my car and roadtrip to Ms. Shelton’s Broken Rope any day.
From the back cover: “Isabelle ‘Betts’ Winston loves teaching the secrets of mouthwatering country food in her hometown, Broken Rope, Missouri–famous for its past of outlaws, knife battles, and hangings. But now an all-too-current murder threatens the start of the tourist season…”
I love how Ms. Shelton took a traditional mystery, tossed in cowboys, missing gold, and a modern day treasure hunt and then added an unconventional pinch of attraction between Betts and the ghost. Blended it to the tastiest treat.
I had no idea who the killer was until the end. Luckily, Ms. Shelton crafted a fast-paced mystery that I devoured in three nights so the wait was bearable.
All the characters are 3-D. I especially enjoyed Betts’ unconventional grandma, Grams/Missouri. She is a pip whether lecturing Betts on how to deal with seeing ghosts, stuck in a cell for a murder she didn’t commit, or dodging Bett’s questions about the treasure hunt that may have led to murder.
There are also several recipes from Ms. Shelton at the back of the book. I’m trying out her fake fried chicken this week.
If you like a dash of paranormal in your mystery, this is a not to be missed read!
I liked it so much, I asked Ms. Shelton if I could give away an autographed copy here. And she said YES!
ONTO THE FREE BOOK CONTEST…
The prize: A free personally autographed copy of If Fried Chicken Could Fly by Paige Shelton, a New York Times Bestselling Author and National Bestselling Author.
Contest rules:
1) You must have a U.S. mailing address to enter the contest. Any new and existing blog and/or Twitter followers can enter.
2) Follow my blog (Kourtney Heintz’ Journal) for one point.
3) Follow me on Twitter (@kourhei) for one point.
4) To enter, comment below telling me your total points and the names/handle you follow me under. Make sure to include your email address in the comment so I can notify you if you win. (Note: You get one entry for each point.)
5) Enter by Thursday February 23 at 7 AM EST. That’s 48 hours from when this post goes live. Then the contest closes to submissions.
I will randomly select a winner. The winner will be notified via email and announced on Friday’s blog.
Good luck!
When someone dies, it’s natural to mourn them. To grieve the loss.
To remember the best of them.
But to pretend they were never human. That they never made mistakes. That is an atrocity.
Don’t deify the dead.
They weren’t saints. They didn’t shit gold. And no one should try to rewrite them into perfect beings.
Let them go. Faults and accomplishments. They can both be spoken of. That is what it means to be human and to pretend they were otherwise does no good for anyone.
Don’t deify the dead.
There is no need to make a public spectacle of the mourning process. Cry in the privacy of your own home and feel a loss without a camera capturing every precious second of it.
Don’t deify the dead.
This is what I thought my draft looked like before I started revising. I thought every work counted. That every scene was as streamlined as it could be. That the manuscript couldn’t be tightened.
This is what it actually looked like. Way too many words. Some did very little. Some nothing. Throw away words and sentences. Even scenes. Gasp. I’ve cut 2000 words and I’m only on p.140.
Epiphany #337
You are only as good as your critiquers, your writing classes and your self-editing classes. If your critiquers all say your work is good. Maybe it is. Maybe it is ready. You can query it.
But after several rejections, maybe you might want to find someone with more experience to weigh in. I’m not saying hire an editor, but maybe ask a pubbed friend to look at the first chapter. Because whatever mistakes you made there, you made throughout the whole book. And the fat you didn’t trim away there is everywhere else.
I’m guilty of it. Every time I come back to a manuscript I thought was amazing, I am slammed by new issues. *Doink* I thought this was good? *Gasps and blushes* How did I miss this?
I’ve heard people say writers never finish books, they abandon them. But I’m wondering when will I know to let it go.
How do you ever know that a manuscript is ready?
Since I was a teenager, I have been in love with China. The culture, the history, the language.
Everything about China enamored me.
Even the politics intrigued me.
In college, I minored in Chinese and spent a summer abroad in Beijing.
It was more than I dreamed possible.
It became my first love. Trumping other passions. Even boyfriends.
I dreamed of working and living in mainland China. Of surpassing proficiency in Mandarin and becoming fluent.
But circumstances prevented me from getting back there. A back injury that didn’t allow for overseas travel.
A life altered by one accident.
But I remained faithful. I loved China. I promised myself one day I would go back there.
And maybe even move there.
Dreams are beautiful like that. They give you something to hope for. Something to strive for. Something better than today. Even if it always remains in tomorrow.
A few years ago, my world changed again. A brilliant doctor gave me an artificial disc in my spine. Suddenly, my spine was healthy again. I could travel abroad again.
And I planned a summer trip to China. On the horizon. A definite possibility again.
I practiced my Chinese. I read all my guidebooks and I returned to my first love, China.
There were some wonderful moments on the trip. There were some really awful ones too.
I had to face the fact that China and I had changed. We weren’t the same as when we first fell in love.
It was not the place I visited 13 years ago. I was not the girl who climbed dangerous sections of the Great Wall.
I no longer wanted to live and work there. I no longer dreamed that dream.
I’d fallen out of love with a dream that sustained me for two decades.
It left a void inside. A place that may not be filled for a long time.
Falling out of love with a dream hurts.
But I’m grateful for the dreaming. Because I got to see China. I got to speak Chinese. The dream gave me so much.
I will mourn that dream like an almost fiance.
