Today I had a worlds-colliding moment when a new co-worker commented on an old practice of mine, which is to say, blogging. He called it "Facebook," which is totally fair - that's one of the places my blog bleeds out to. And he complimented me on my writing. In my head, I was all:

Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

        William Shakespeare

Because even now, when I went to put that quote in there, I had to pop the hood up on Typepad, creaky old bitch that she is, and look at the HTML, because the WYSIWYG editor doesn't even work anymore. I'm like the old couple in The Princess Bride who give you a cure for being only partially dead but then tell you to not go in swimming for at least an hour. "Well, hidee ho! Let's take a look at that href tag!"

But can I just say, wow, that felt amazing! Thank you, dude, for reading old words of mine from months ago and realizing I was a person before I came to the cube next door. I don't pay my corporate job any disservice, but it was still fun that for an amazing decade people paid me for my voice. 

A few weeks ago, one of the little angel's friends did THE OBVIOUS GAME for a book talk. I was driving them to whatever and heard her talking about how she chose the wig lady scene to highlight and I had this moment where I realized my daughter's best friends took my writing seriously enough to talk about it at school. 

Guys, I can't tell you.

I just can't tell you.

I have always been one to write fan letters to my favorite authors. I've never had a letter back, but I do believe they get read.

Always write fan letters.

My co-worker appreciating my past work. My daughter's friend -- someone I view like my own kid -- volunteering to use my work as a subject at school ... I can't even say what an honor and a privilege that is. 

Why thank you, sir.

In 2010, I wrote a post about anorexia and Dr. Phil. Shortly after that, I wrote a response on BlogHer which seems to have been lost in the abyss. Shortly before I was laid off from SheKnows Media (which acquired BlogHer and is now being acquired by Penske Media, I transferred some of my posts to Medium on a lark. One of them was 5 Things You Should Know About Your Girlfriend With an Eating Disorder.

I've said it before: It's amazing, but I have received between 3-5 emails a week since I originally wrote the article sometime between 2010 and 2016 (yes, I admit, I don't have the will to research my posts on BlogHer -- it's painful). Originally I tried to write back individually to people, and at one point I had a six-month ongoing conversation with a mom, but after a while it became too overwhelming to keep up with all of the stories. And, after all, I wrote a book about this whole thing. So I started sending back this reply to the people who write me:

I get so many emails like this I put everything I know about eating disorders and recovery in a novel called THE OBVIOUS GAME. You could read it together and use it as a conversation starter. Either way it should help you understand. Good luck - there is a lot about romantic relationships and how they are affected in the book. 

RJBA

One time prior to today someone had an adverse reaction to this response, saying I was trying to sell them a book. I pointed out that THEY wrote ME, and that was the end of it. So imagine my surprise when today, I got this:

"send me an email and I will answer your questions"

"Fuck you and buy my book"

Thanks for nothing

There is a very long list of responses I wanted to send to that email. The post is years old. I haven't even worked at SheKnows Media since August 2016. My book came out in 2013. I stopped writing publicly about eating disorders around 2015/2016. Also? These are the last two paragraphs of the post referenced:

I’m sure some boyfriend somewhere right now is wondering how he can help his girlfriend as she once again refuses to eat. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if you or someone you love is suffering from an eating disorder, you can email me and I will try to point you in the right direction. My personal email is ritajarens@gmail.com.

My debut young adult novel is The Obvious Game, published by InkSpell Publishing. The Obvious Game is based on my experience with anorexia. If you are a librarian and are having trouble finding my book, please write me at ritajarens@gmail.com to purchase the book at the 40% author discount price.

Beloved was pretty shocked at the whole thing. I wasn't, but I admit I was angry. I've had a long week. I just had my year-anniversary mammogram of my diagnosis this morning. (It was clean! Thank you, Jesus!) I wrote that post to help people a whole lot of years ago and this kid is treating me like a telemarketer at Grandma's dinner hour.

This is what was going through my head: WHO ARE YOU TO TALK TO ME LIKE THIS WHEN YOU EMAILED ME? ARE WE CONFUSED ABOUT WHO IS DOING THE CONTACTING?

But I sat with it. I went to the gym. I ran a few miles. I reflected on my clean mammogram and all the imaginary problems I had worried about that are not at this moment coming to fruition. I reflected on my recent eight-pound weight loss (anyone who loses weight due to cancer is apparently not a stress eater like me) that I pulled off without undue restrictions or falling back into old bad eating disordered habits.

And I thought: This kid is in pain. He thought he would write me and maybe I'd become some sort of personal mentor to him, and I let him down with my canned response.

And yeah, kid, I get it. I did.

Here's the thing: I want to be a helper. I really do. I want to help you get through this. But I also am a cancer survivor and a lay-off survivor and a mom and a daughter and a sister and a wife and a co-worker and a friend. I have a house to manage and a career. I walk my cat in a freakin' harness every morning. I take fish oil and am working on a new novel.

So when I tell you I put everything I know about eating disorders in a novel and maybe you should read it, I'm not pitching you to buy my book. Go request it from your library or download it off of one of the million pirated sites I see every day on my Google alerts. What I'm saying is that I put three years of thought into what you're asking and I WROTE A BOOK ABOUT IT.

I get that you're frustrated.

I get that you need help.

We all do. And lashing out at each other is not the way to get it.

So no, I'm not going to use your name. I'm not going to shame you.

But dude, let up. I feel your pain because despite overcoming one kind of pain, there is always another. Be kind to each other - you never know who escaped a repeat cancer diagnosis today: THIS WOMAN.

One of the weird things about letting my girl read THE OBVIOUS GAME is that she's had more of a window than is probably good and right into my teenage years. So when I came home today from my twenty-fifth high school reunion and told her about how when my classmate driving the pick-up pulling the haybale-stacked float for the big Homecoming parade circled the town square three times and then just ... drove ... it reminded her of the sled scene in my book. Stupid, and dangerous, and totally, unfathomably fun.

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And when I told her about coronation and how the president of my senior class made a lovely speech and told the bored seniors how they really could do anything jumping off from the platform of our small town, she asked if it was the same coronation I wrote about in my book. And it was. It's in a new building, but nothing's changed. The names of the kids are the same last names I grew up with. The smiling parents are now my age, but they're the same. The teenagers may have new concepts in what makes facial hair fashionable for boys or formal wear appropriate for girls, but they have the same impatience for the dance I remember. I'm just on the other side now.

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But the ride. Sitting on a haybale on a flatbed on a float with people I've known since kindergarten or more and driving down the highway at least 45 miles an hour to a neighboring town, a neighboring bar, where the extra tables are made of plywood and the video games still take quarters ... that was like stepping into the past. Not having my husband and daughter along heightened the surreal quality because I, for once, had nowhere to be and no time to be there. I didn't even have a car this weekend. I was dependent on rides from other people, just like high school. And the same people stuffed me in their vehicles who had in tenth grade when I was a little late to get a license, Lisa, and it was awesome.

I told them it hasn't been since John Mellancamp any song has made me miss my hometown until Ed Sheeran's Castle on the Hill, because of this: "But these people raised me."

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Because despite what a hot mess I was my senior year of high school -- and I know I was, all of you guys, and I'm sorry I wasn't more present and a better friend, but trust me when I say I'm just glad to still be here to share these days with you, because it was that bad, so please forgive me -- you people did raise me, for better or worse.

And this weekend when everyone just hung together on those haybales flying down that highway, laughing to '80s music and forgetting we have kids and jobs and mortgages, I understood maybe better than I ever did that you raised me. We had such a small group for so long, so different than the way my daughter is growing up with a middle school of 800 and a high school of 1200. We were lucky to have 100 in our graduating class. We didn't all have expectations we would go on to more school, and I wish we'd bring that back and be okay with it in my suburb today.

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I read today an article about how kids now are physically safer than ever before but maybe too chained to their phones. When my girl asked me if it was smart to ride the float 15 miles, I realized, okay, NO, it wasn't, but at the same time I used my phone only as a camera and a way to send Bon Jovi to the Bluetooth speaker and at one point it became so coated in gravel dust I couldn't read the screen.

And friends, I felt alive.

Just like the me I used to be, and maybe still am.

Since I last posted, I've had a lot of tumultuous change. Suffice it to say my car was totaled, among other things. I'm fine, though, and will continue to be fine, because I'm the protagonist in my own story, and protagonists with no obstacles are boring and nobody likes them. I'm so not boring this month!

Here's one of the reasons! I was chosen as the Missouri chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI)'s September featured author. This is a huge deal for me, as I love everything SCBWI does and so appreciate their efforts to provide education, networking and exposure for their members.

Here's an excerpt of the interview:

Where and when do you write?

There are two bits to writing – the actual writing and the thinking about the writing. When I’m really stuck somewhere in the physical writing, it becomes difficult for me not to think about it incessantly.

I do my actual writing in my local library one night a week after my day job. I usually bring my daughter along so she can do her homework while I write. I’ve tried writing late at night, in the early morning, on road trips, in cafes on Saturday afternoons, and I can’t focus unless I’m in the library and still relatively fresh mentally. This means I don’t get very far very fast, but thinking about writing a lot when I’m not actually in the library helps me to be very ready when the opportunity finally arises.

To read the rest, go to Missouri's chapter page.

Another reason! I'll be speaking at KidLitCon in Wichita, Kansas, in October. And I'm bringing my daughter to a conference for the first time. Moments. Come and see me if you're in the area -- I've seen the tentative schedule and it's fabulous.

Onward.

Recently someone from Quotes Rain contacted me so I set up a profile. It has a tool that makes creating quotes more top-of-mind. (There are lots of ways to put text on pictures, and I know a lot of them, but it's reminding myself to do such things that is the kicker.)

Anyway, I created two quotes. I will probably keep updating these from time to time, but if you have a favorite quote and would like your name mentioned in the quoteboard (submitted by, etc.), please leave info in the comments! 

I leave tomorrow for New York for Spine Out. So nervous!

What an amazing thing! If you're in New York and want to come, here's an evite for you. Feel free to forward, invite, spread the news. I'd love to see you.

 

Congratulations Rachel Patrick for winning a copy of THE OBVIOUS GAME in my Rafflecopter giveaway!

The Goodreads giveaway is still open until tonight.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Obvious Game

by Rita Arens

Giveaway ends April 06, 2015.

See the giveaway detailsat Goodreads.

Enter to win

It's nearly time again for the Young Adult Scavenger Hunt. (woot)

We have nine outstanding teams this season. I am going to be a part of #TeamRed. The Scavenger Hunt runs from March 29 through April 3 beginning and ending at noon Pacific Time on those days.

If you've never been a part of the hunt before, you should give it a try. It runs like a giant blog hop, introducing you to new YA authors and books along the way. There are tons of prizes including a grand prize for each team.

If you win one of the grand prizes you will get a book from each author on that team! For more information and to make sure you get hunt updates, sign up for news on the #YASH website.

You don't want to miss out on this fabulous and fun event, but play fast because the hunt is only live for three days.

I hope you are all as excited as I am!

THE HUNT BEGINS 3/29/2016!

Sometimes the setting in a book becomes a character, and that's something I tried very hard to do with my fictional small town of Snowden, Iowa, in my young adult novel THE OBVIOUS GAME. Recently I received an advanced copy of Keija Parssinen's THE UNRAVELING OF MERCY LOUIS, which is set in the tiny Southern oil town of Port Sabine, Texas. Even though it was below zero when I read this book, I could feel the thick, reeking air of this refinery town on the back of my neck.

There is so much going on in this novel: the thrill of competition (basketball), a coach's place in a teen's life, first love, the complexity of lifelong friendships, difficult mother/daughter relationships, religion, Y2K fear, environmental and financial distress, fear of the community outlier, teenage sexuality and pregnancy and health complications so unusual I had to look them up because I didn't believe they existed, but guess what: They do.

Every time I thought I knew what would happen next, I was wrong. It was that good. I'm actually still thinking about it a few days later and have recommended it to four people since I read it.

So if you like thinky-but-thrilling books, you should read this one. I haven't read Keija's first novel yet, but as I'm the sort of person who falls in love with authors more than books, I'm going to put it on my to-be-read list.

Here's a picture of Keija, who has absolutely nothing going for her except diplomas from Princeton and the Iowa Writers' Workshop (where she was a Truman Capote fellow) and a Michener-Copernicus Award. So I am totally not the only person who thinks her writing is very much worth your copious free time.

I know, and she's cute. Try not to hate her.

The novel's official release is March 10th, but you can pre-order a copy here and purchase Keija’s first novel,  THE RUINS OF US, here.

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This post is part of a blog tour! I know, you're shocked I would do that! And I am not the only person giving away books. Check out my partners in literary crime below.

Andrea Casarsa - Maybe It's Just Me

Greta Funk - GFunkified

Julie Gardner - Julie C. Gardner

Saturday, March 6: Alexandra - Good Day, Regular People

Monday, March 9: Tracy Morrison - Sellabit Mum and Nicole Leigh Shaw - Ninja Mom

Tuesday, March 10: Ann Imig - Ann's Rants and Tarja Parssinen - The Flying Chalupa

Wednesday, March 11: Alison Lee - Writing, Wishing

Friday, March 13: Nancy Davis Kho - Midlife Mixtape

And now I'm going to do one of my favorite things: Give away a book. Follow the Rafflecopter instructions below. I will leave the giveaway open for one week and close it next Friday. Enter as much as you want.

a Rafflecopter giveaway