Lara Zielin

I made it. I actually MADE IT to Voodoo Donuts in Portland, Oregon. It was a big moment for me, probably because once you write a book with the word ‘donut’ in the title, people just automatically assume that you love donuts. And, okay, even though the book was about more than just fried dough, it sort of turns out that I do, I do love donuts, more than I realized, and places like Voodoo Donuts (tagline: “the magic is in the hole!”) have become really, really important.

Anyway.

I followed the signs…

then saw the building …

and tried not to freak out at the carousel of donut heaven spinning before me.

Finally, I ordered a maple bacon donut and a Fruit Loops-covered donut, both of which were like eating sunshine and sparkles all rolled into one.

I handed the nice lady behind the counter a copy of Donut Days, which I’d signed for the store, and she asked me, “Have donuts always been a passion of yours?”

“No,” I answered honestly. But that’s before I met awesome people through donuts, and traveled for donuts, and had my picture taken with donuts, and bought a suitcase full of donuts that changed my life. (Some day, I will tell that story.) In the meantime, suffice it to say donuts haven’t always been a passion of mine, but they sure are now.

As a writer, there have been many dark moments when I’ve despaired of ever being picked up by an agent, of ever seeing my work published, of ever finding any kind of writerly success. It was during one of these dark periods, when I was writing an early draft of Donut Days, that my mom and I went shopping and I spotted a necklace with pink sparkles. It had one word written on it: Hope.

My mom bought it for me that day and it was instantly a fixture around my neck. I told myself that until I was published, I was going to wear the necklace.

I wore the necklace until the pink sparkles became dull, until the chain broke and I had to buy a new one, until the silver tarnished and sort of made my skin itchy.

But then, one day, I got a call from my agent. And my writing life was never the same. I retired the necklace (er, at least the “Hope” part of it; the chain is long gone) to a dusty drawer of a jewelry box. Until today. (Sorry in advance for the craptastic camera work.)

Because something happened today.

My friend Ang (who you may remember from such posts as A Valentine’s Day Story That Has Nothing to Do With Valentine’s Day) bought me a new necklace. And it has one word on it: Balance.

As I struggle to juggle a full-time job, a blooming book career for which I’m enormously thankful, and a side job helping other authors out there, balance is what it’s all about. I need balance right now like Rebecca Black needs auto-tune. Which is to say, a lot.

I don’t know if I’ll wear the necklace every day like I did “Hope,” but I don’t think it’s coincidence that these messages come into my life when I need them.

And, Universe: I’m totally listening.

My twinsie, Neil Shurley, made me a book trailer! I love it for about 8,000 reasons, but YOU might love it because it’s a slice of awesome conveyed in less than ten seconds.

Ready? Set? Go:

Click awesome video now

Why not indeed.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: When my friend Colleen says “I think I just wet myself laughing,” you know it’s good. Behold, the New Yorker iPad app introduced by Jason Schwartzman.

If you’ve seen the headlines lately, you know Bishop Eddie Long is in some hot water. Several members of his megachurch have come forward accusing him of taking sexual advantage of them (and using his pastoral power to do so).

Is it me or are the pastors of these megachurches getting the lids blown off their back-door dealings in record numbers? It doesn’t necessarily surprise me, though: the megachurch structure is set up to make one person, the pastor, largely powerful and infallible.

A recent CNN.com article reported that Long is often the focus of the church — more so than even God sometimes — and that he maintains power over his congregation by talking “consistently telling his congregation that he speaks for God.” He also has talked about dissolving his church board.

I have to say, I blinked when I read that, because those were the same issues that plagued the megachurch I attended in my 20s. It was the same church that inspired me to write DONUT DAYS. The plot of the novel is all about how money and power can infiltrate a church  and totally destroy it. It’s all about how some people can convince other people they’re the mouthpiece of God, when they’re SO not.

Of course, the logical conclusion is to send Bishop Long a copy of DONUT DAYS. Either that or a box of crullers. Which, I’m going to guess they don’t have those in the small, cramped cell where Long will probably be spending some time in the future.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: It’s definitely Ok Go’s new video featuring canine helpers. Omg. Great song, great vid, and they’re also supporting animal rescue efforts!

You guys. I think I sort of forgot to mention something. I mean, I put it on Facebook and Twitter but I forgot to blog about the fact that DONUT DAYS is out in softcover! What the what? How could I forget about something so exciting?! I mean, have you seen the cover?

I love this design. Yes I do.

The other thing? Is that I’m totally on a”get published” panel this weekend, sponsored through 826 Michigan. If you live in or near Ann Arbor and have any interest in this, here’s the link for more info.

Okay, and finally, I just HAVE to share Rob’s movie trailer with you all. For those of you who are new to Larawrites, Rob is my husband and a filmmaker. He rules. He has a movie showing at some film festivals — it’s called Starlight and Superfish. And here is the kickass trailer for your viewing enjoyment!

Happy weekend, y’all!

Today’s post is by Neil Shurley, someone I met on Twitter and liked instantly because a.) we share the same birthday, b.) Neil is a writer, and c.) Neil runs a blog called The Holy Donut that is dedicated to celebrating the best pastry ever. Neil likes me because a.) we share the same birthday, b.) I wrote a book about donuts, perhaps you’ve heard of it, and c.) my Twitter avatar has me in front of a rack of donuts at Dunkin’ Donuts.

Neil, bless him, writes short stores about donuts. And so, friends, today I give you Neil’s entertaining little story, appropriately titled “Holy Donuts.”

Torus of love. Frosting of light. Sprinkles of peace.

Wherever we gather, whenever we gather, we take the donut, we break it and we bless it, saying, “Take. Eat. Holy pastry purchased for you.”

And so it is with the coffee. We fill our mugs and bless them, saying, “Brown liquid of understanding, poured for you. Take, blow gently, sip. Creamer is in the back for any who need it.”

And the service begins.

Most days, Jack shares first.

“Good morning. My name is Jack and I love donuts.”

“Hello, Jack,” we reply.

“Sunday mornings were all about the donuts,” he begins. “My parents popped an 8-track into the stereo, usually the Kingston Trio, but sometimes Neil Diamond or America’s Greatest Hits. Then Dad would say, ‘Let’s go,’ and we’d hop into the car and drive the ten blocks to Dunkin’ Donuts. I’d always pick the chocolate crème filled, even though I kind of thought it was gross. My sister would get maple logs or some other godawful thing. I used the comics section of the Sunday paper to capture the drifts of powdered sugar.”

Here he gets a little misty-eyed. “Damn, I miss those times.”

And we raise our mugs to Jack and we dunk or not dunk, depending on our personal choice of donuts, and we take a large bite, savoring it, trying to become one with the donut, even if only for a moment.

After we go around the circle – always a circle – I step up to the center and make my plea.

“Friends, we thank you for coming. We thank you for partaking in the holy donut. And we thank you for your generous love offering of cash or gift cards.”

Folks drop what they can spare into the coffee canister I keep perched on a chair next to the door. They shuffle out, with promises to return next week.

Today, a young woman, she’d called herself Ruth during her testimony, held back after the rest of the group cleared out. She helped me stack chairs.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said. She couldn’t have been more than 25. Not conventionally pretty, she maintained an air of disarray that vanished, I’d noticed, while partaking in the donut.

“No, no,” I said. “Thank you for coming. We wouldn’t be here without folks like you.”

Trite, I know, but in my experience, donut worshipers prefer their pastries large and their talk small.  She stacked the last chair and followed me to the front of the room.

“I just know there’s something in them,” she said. “It’s, well, more powerful than us.”

I nodded. “The sugar. Real addictive. You’ve got to be careful.”

I flicked off the lights and motioned for her to lead us out of the room. She lingered in the doorway.

“No,” she said. “It’s more than that. There’s an energy. A light. You guys seem to understand it. There’s power there, something…” She trailed off, bit her lip, then finally walked outside.

I pulled the door closed. “We all sense it,” I said.

We put the group together last year when Jack and I found ourselves waxing poetic about the appeal of donuts. We started meeting at a local Dunkin’ Donuts until a rather dour woman named Charlotte started going on and on about Krispy Kreme. So to be more ecumenical, we started meeting at a local rec center.

“Well,” I said, “thanks again for helping straighten up.”   Ruth nodded, shoved her hands into her pockets and walked toward the parking lot.

I locked the door, then turned to find myself face to face with her.

“Oh,” I said.

“I’m Jessica,” she said.

Before I could ask about the name change or even blurt out my own name she backed me against the door and kissed me.

And kissed me.

And kissed me.

I did not resist.

She took two steps back, shoved her hands back into her pockets and then smiled at me.

“The power of donuts,” she said.

I nodded. The power of donuts indeed.

“Same time next week?” Ruth who was actually called Jessica asked.

All I could do was nod and watch her vanish into the darkness.

Torus of love. Frosting of light.

While the Nerds Heart YA competition is still going strong, I’m sorry to say that DONUT DAYS was knocked out of the second round by the novel IN MIKE WE TRUST. Which, actually sounds like a wonderful book and, in the Nerds Heart YA spirit of encouraging people to read underrepresented books, I suggest we all go out and buy it. (And many thanks to the wonderful Book Nut, Melissa, who took the time to read both novels!).

Go IN MIKE WE TRUST! I hope you win the whole thing. And that the prize is a pony.

Anyway, this all means that my little Nerds Heart YA contest is now officially closed, and we have a winner. Congratulations to Michelle M. who has won a signed copy of DONUT DAYS and a $15 Barnes and Noble gift card! Hooray and huzzah! I’ll email you to get the deets about where to send.

And thanks, everyone, for playing and supporting books! Yay!

A long, long time ago on a web page far, far away, a group of people wondered what it would be like to help promote awesome young-adult books that didn’t get much love or visibility when they were published. Nerds Heart YA was born and young-adult authors and readers everywhere did a dance of happiness (see also: Snoopy).

Currently, Nerds Heart YA is hosting their second annual contest, which works a lot like the March Madness brackets for college basketball. Out of the thousands of books published books in 2009, they chose 32 finalists and created brackets for each. Now, they’re hosting a read-off of sorts where they pick which books advance. They’ll keep whittling down the list until there’s only one book left.

Last year’s winner was Steve Kluger’s book, My Most Excellent Year.

I am proud as punch that, this year, Donut Days made it into the finalists list and — be still my heart! — made it through the first round of eliminations. If there is an American Idol for books, this is it. (Except the judges are really super nice. No Simons here. Or loopy Paulas for that matter.)

No matter the winner, this effort to support underrepresented YA literature deserves props. And links and web hits and RT’s. So for those who RT or promote the contest (@NerdsHeartYA), I’m offering two prizes to winners who will be chosen at random. Just leave me a comment and let me know what you did (tell me if you RT’d or linked to the contest or blogged about it or something else) and I’ll throw your name into the prize pool. I’m giving away a $15 Barnes and Noble gift card, as well as a signed copy of DONUT DAYS.

Thanks for the support, and goooooo books! 

Happy National Donut Day, everyone! And no, it’s not a made-up holiday. It’s really real. The Salvation Army started it. So put that in your cruller and eat it.

As you may recall, I made a video last year to celebrate this momentous day. I’m revisiting the vid because, a year later, it still makes me snort with laughter.

So, without further ado, I give you the great oxymoron that is “Glamorous Donut.”

Happy National Donut Day!

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: Want to see what I’m doing when I’m not writing YA novels? Check out the webpage for the magazine I edit. It’s an alumni publication for the University of Michigan and, can I just say, it’s the greatest gig evah.

You guys! The softcover for DONUT DAYS is coming out this September! And here’s what it’s going to look like!

Squee! I totally love it! I want to frame it and take it with me everywhere and pet it and call it George.

That’s not at all weird, right?

I love this cover!!