Apparently only 1 in 15,000-20,000 people are affected. The medical sites and Wikipedia say trigeminal neuralgia is thought to be one of the most painful disorders known to mankind. Some call it the suicide disease because the pain is literally unbearable.

My pain started in 2007. At random, I’d get a shocking strike to the right side of my face in my lower jaw. Maybe I’d eat something sweet, maybe I’d bend over to kiss Eleanor or Magnolia to say goodnight, maybe I’d lean over the sink to brush my teeth, maybe I’d laugh or talk or touch my teeth together wrong or maybe I’d do nothing at all. One day when I was running, I dropped to my knees with this electric strike of pain in my face I didn’t understand. It lasted about a minute and then suddenly I was pain free, and I finished my run. The more frequently it happened, the more I was convinced it was a toothache.

I saw two dentists, an oral surgeon, and an endodontist. No one could find anything wrong with my teeth. In 2008, one caring dentist and friend said he’d refill my tooth. It seemed to work. I was pain free for almost a year. In the winter of 2009, the pain was back. I did another tour of dentists and specialists who again refused to touch my teeth. My dentist friend said he’d put a crown on my tooth. It seemed to work. I was pain free for about three months. Then the strikes of pain came back. I would have asked my friend to pull my tooth, but I’d moved to Indianapolis.

The pain seemed to magically disappear in Indianapolis. Then in winter of 2010, the attacks were back. My dentist here refused to pull my tooth, and I was pissed! I would have done about anything to not feel the strikes of pain. I didn’t want to eat, speak, or move my face at all; I’d learned to fear these things deeply. I could avoid those things by doing nothing–by sitting and not moving an inch–but I’d have to stand up at some point, and just standing up might trigger a strike. I lived in fear of this and didn’t want anyone to touch me. At one of my begging sessions at the dentist, he mentioned neuralgia, but it was rare and affected mostly people over 50.

I was so convinced it was a bad tooth that I basically cursed my (very kind) dentist and lived with the pain throughout winter. When the strikes stopped happening in spring, I began to notice the pattern. Strikes in winter. Reprieve until May. Strikes for a month or two. Reprieve until winter. Right on schedule, in winter of 2011 the strikes came back.

They were worse than ever before. They could last up to ten minutes. It was paralyzing. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t dying. My lips, tongue, and even my ear would go pins and needles around the explosion of pain in my jaw, I would drool because my salivary glands were going nuts, and breathing was more like gasping. When it was over I needed to cry because of the tension I’d had waiting for the strike to happen and the ordeal of going through it. I was embarrassed for some reason, too. I think it was because when the strike was over, I was completely pain free. To the outsider, it had to look ridiculous and confusing to see me paralyzed with pain and then suddenly ready for a night out on the town. Except I was afraid of going out–afraid of having an attack in public, or while driving, or at work, or in front of the kids.

One night after an attack, Josh sat rubbing my back, and said, “Well, at least you don’t have trigeminal neuralgia. It’s so bad, they call it the suicide disease.”

I remembered my dentist saying neuralgia, and I decided it was time time to see a neurologist. Twenty minutes into the appointment, he diagnosed me with trigeminal neuralgia. I would have laughed, but I was terrified of the possible pain. I did call Josh later to inform I had the suicide disease. He didn’t laugh either.

At least there was hope for treatment. I could finally label this pain! The weird thing is, you can’t just take some Tylenol to help the pain pass. Narcotics don’t cut the pain either–don’t even lessen it. My doctor put me on an anti-convulsant, which takes some time to build up and affect my system. But, that winter the meds kicked in, and I could tell that they were working. I had a weird dull ticking in my “tooth” but it never led to an attack. I became pain-free by the end of February.

It’s now May, and the strikes are back. The meds seem to help somewhat, but not like before. They attacks don’t last as long–only a few seconds–and I can get through them, but I still look ridiculous, flinching and freezing, and fearing the next one. I hate when it happens in front of the girls. Josh has a new joke though: “Sorry about your face.” I think I need a t-shirt for him.

If you’re curious, here’s a photo of the  big trigeminal nerve; it splits into three. For me, the offender is the V3, which branches down through the lower jaw. I circled it. The arrows point to the regions where I feel the attacks.

Anyway, I’m starting to think about Microvascular Decompession surgery. It’s a tough decision because surgery is always a risk. But this one in particular requires a small part of the skull being removed and a small part of the brain and brain stem being exposed in order to place a tiny sponge around the nerve to separate it from blood vessels that may be wrapped around the nerve. Not the most inviting of treatment options. Many folks in my support group have had this procedure and have been pain free for years. Of course, there are a couple who have gone through it and found no relief. I’m still in the research stages of this treatment option. When I’m in a period of attacks, it seems worth it. When I’m not, it seems risky. Then I think about the dread of an oncoming attack and the way the fear stops me from laughing, smiling, talking, kissing my family, and sometimes driving or even going to work; and it seems like it’d be worth a try. I’ll let you know what I decide.

Why We Broke Up was not on my to-read list until it became a Printz Award honor book. But the contemporary young adult nature of it appealed to me after it found my radar. I hadn’t even heard of any of the Printz books that were honored this year. I’m not sure if that’s a reflection on me getting more distant from the YA book scene, or if it’s a reflection on these books as surprise choices. But I’m disappointed I didn’t get into to the usual anticipatory hoopla I always create for myself before the announcement of the Printz Award nominees. Well, the Oscars are next week. Maybe I’ll pack in some nominees this week and finally download the ballots for Josh and me. Have a sour appletini or a lemon drop, or both. Get excited about the red carpet, and whatnot.

But back to the book. Here are my thoughts.

First: This is the heaviest book I own. It weighs, I’m guessing, the same as my social studies text did in 11th grade. Official weight: 3.6 pounds. The paper is thick and glossy, very cool to the touch. The illustrations bright, something I’m convinced would be lesser if viewed on an e-reader. (I’m still an e-reader virgin.)I loved carrying this book around.

Second: It took me about five minutes of relishing all nooks and crannies of the book before I remembered that Daniel Handler is Lemony Snicket. That was cool. He’s a versatile writer; this book felt very very YA in voice, language, and circumstance. Oh so different from those series of unfortunate events.

Third: Voice, I said was very very YA. It also broke every rule I’ve ever tried to get away with, which pissed me off. Jealousy. I want to write that repetitively with my “OKs” and my “verys” and my “ums” and my “‘I sighed’s” and I want to revel in writing paragraphs of descriptions that go on for 2+ pages and sentences that go on and on and on, commas strung from confession on top of confession to “I love yous” to repetitions of “that’s why we broke up.” I want to make up that many words and misuse just as many. I could NEVER get away with it. I’ve tried, like I said. So, congrats on that, Daniel Handler. Though honestly–and I don’t think this is just the jealousy talking–it did get a little exhausting. And it was clunky in a way that I had to repeat-read sentences and paragraphs. But I did manage to get past it. Why? Because I could relate to Min.

Fourth: Story. Poor Min. You know from the beginning that Min gets hurt. And even in her bitterness and anger you see her love lingers. She had hope and happiness so big she couldn’t see beyond it, and I really loved her for it. That blindness is so relate-able. Beyond that I loved the struggle of the popular jock dating the “different” girl because in this story it played the cliches in a way that weren’t tired or bratty or overused as they are in so many YA books. Min’s and Ed’s struggle felt just as new to me as it did for Min. God, poor Min, making every tiny piece of their relationship into the biggest somethings in her life. But, somehow through it all you know she’ll be okay. Because we all go through it. And we all somehow end up okay.

I’m not the only one that loves the library. Phillip Marlowe loves napping in my chair. I’ve even named the chair. Colonel Mustard. Note the candlestick in the background.

The point is I love my library. And I started poking around the Internet to find unique bookshelves because I just got curious about unique ways to display books or other treasures. And possibly I was dreaming of seeing my book on them someday.

Here are 39 bookshelves that I think are interesting–40 if you count mine, which seriously I’m not sure how it ended up in the slide show, but whatever. Enjoy!

This is me at thirteen.

The haircut is my mother’s fault. From it you can deduce three things:

1)    We were too poor to get haircuts at a salon like normal people,

2)    My mother was a much better librarian than hairdresser, and

3)    I was still a year away from the massive rebellion after which I refused to get my hair cut at all for a while.

At this point I had just gotten my braces off, to my tremendous relief, but I was still wearing a retainer, as you can see from the wire.

I was in eighth grade, attending to a modified Montessori school at the time this picture was taken. There were a total of 60 kids in the school, about eight of whom were my age.

My parents, foolishly, let me choose where to go to high school. I selected one of the two expensive, private schools attended by all the richest kids in Indianapolis. I’m guessing you can imagine exactly how well I fit in with that haircut and those glasses, right? Yeah, whatever you’re thinking, it was worse.

I finally figured out haircuts about the time I turned sixteen and spent a semester in Washington D.C. as a Congressional Page. I got better glasses around that time, too, but I never really fit into any group socially until I escaped to Brazil as a junior. But that’s another story.

Mike, this is priceless. Thanks so much for making my day! My blog thanks you with all it’s heart. Here’s Mike now, if you’re curious.

If you missed our interview together, check it out. Or, stop by his blog to learn more about Mike or read the first two chapters of his novel. And make sure to buy Mike’s book, Ashfall, from one of these locations:

Autographed Copies
Indiebound
Amazon
Barnes & Noble

If you’re a YA writer and wish to be featured on Self-Deprecating Sunday, please contact me at jody(dot)mugele(at)gmail(dot)com, or leave a comment and I’ll be in touch. It’s more fun than church.

Then I read this douche canoe article. John Branch, I can talk shit about my city. But, you can’t. Not without a bit of blogger backlash. If you’re going to write for the New York Times, at least do your fucking research. If you’re going to complain about Indianapolis, act like a journalist and do some digging. You picked the most surface-level bullshit to paint your picture of the city. Grandmas and prison inmates knitting? Really? Eighth graders who want to have a voice? That’s who you pick on?

Pick on the fact that people won’t be allowed to buy alcohol on Superbowl Sunday. Pick on the fact that our public school system found kids that could actually spell. How about how most people will choose Red Lobster over Room Four? We have our faults. You just didn’t manage to actually find them.

Call me defensive. I’ve resisted being a Hoosier my whole life. But, damn, New York Times, you made me want to step in front of my city while you throw stones, and say hey, Fuck you. We’re okay.

But, just because he’s into the gross and violent, doesn’t mean he’s that way. He’s very nice. He even let me interview him here on Sparks and Butterflies. His debut, young adult novel is selling like hotcakes and was picked as one of the top 5 young adult novels in 2011, by NPR.

Here’s a synopsis:

Many visitors to Yellowstone National Park don’t realize that the boiling hot springs and spraying geysers are caused by an underlying supervolcano. It has erupted three times in the last 2.1 million years, and it will erupt again, changing the Earth forever.

Fifteen-year-old Alex is home alone when the supervolcano erupts. His town collapses into a nightmare of darkness, ash, and violence, forcing him to flee. He begins a harrowing trek in search of his parents and sister, who were visiting relatives 140 miles away.

Along the way, Alex struggles through a landscape transformed by more than a foot of ash. The disaster brings out the best and worst in people desperate for food, clean water, and shelter.  When an escaped convict injures Alex, he searches for a sheltered place where he can wait—to heal or to die. Instead, he finds Darla. Together, they fight to achieve a nearly impossible goal: surviving the supervolcano.

Awesome premise. Fast-paced read. Mike knows what dudes want in a book! Here’s what I had to know about him and his book:

Jody: How long do you think you’d survive the ashfall? Be honest. I’d make it to chapter 7 (which for the main character is next door) and die of fear.

Mike: I’d probably make it past chapter 7. I’ve never witnessed anything quite as horrible as what I write about in Chapter 7, but I’ve been in violent situations before—seen my own blood and bones—and I’ve been able to stay calm and continue thinking. I’d probably die during the trek out of Cedar Falls. People older than 35 don’t fare well in disaster situations. We’re not essential to the preservation of the species, after all. I’d probably get sick, or my lack of aerobic conditioning would catch up to me, and I’d die a hacking, wheezy, death of pneumonia or something similar.

Jody: In high school, what grade did you get in weather?

Mike: Um.

Jody: That’s not a class?

Mike: No.

Jody: How about Geography? Social Studies? Science?

Mike: My high school grades are easy for me to remember. Every subject. Freshman and Sophomore year, I got ‘A’s in everything. Junior year, I flunked out. I’m pretty sure I took Biology, Physics, and Chemistry during my first two years and aced them. If I remember correctly, I flunked out of Organic Chemistry and Physics II. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do the work: I just didn’t care.

Jody: Describe your teenage self.

Mike: Incredibly maladjusted and incurably nerdy. My peers were a foreign country to me, one whose shoreline promised both riches and headhunting cannibals. I coasted along that beach for two years without landing or learning anything useful, and then I gave up. I spent a year in Brazil as a youth exchange student, and rather than returning to high school when I came back, I took the G.E.D. and went straight to college.

Jody: See? Cannibals. Sounds like you need to participate in Self-Deprecating Sunday. Yeah?

Mike: Sure. Why not?

Jody: Awesome! See you back in two days. Now on with the interview. What would you miss most during an ashfall?

Mike: The toilet.

Jody: That’s not a luxury.

Mike: Ha! I take it you’ve never dug a pit toilet. Or trudged to an outhouse when it’s below zero outside.

Jody: That is true.

Mike: If the plumbing quits working, we have two choices: 1) Defecate wherever and suffer the disease that will result, or 2) Dig pit toilets, trenches, etc. and tend them: digging new ones as necessary, adding layers of dirt and lime, etc.

Some readers have wondered why ASHFALL spends considerable time on bathroom issues—a subject most novels avoid. I wrote those scenes specifically to help readers internalize how different the world would be after this kind of disaster—even something we take for granted, like a decent place to urinate—becomes a challenge.

Jody: That’s another reason I wouldn’t make it past Chapter 7. Okay, random question pulled from the Internet: Grab the book nearest you, turn to page 18 and find line four. Recite it. What book is it from?

Mike: “He could go without breakfast, graze at lunch, and barely touch dinner, all while working twelve-hour days of constant activity, and still his weight never fluctuated.” Zeitoun by Dave Eggers

Jody: I wish my weight and I were both that disciplined! Now, if I gave you $50 and told you to go have fun spending it, what would you buy? NO BOOKS!

Mike: I’d take Margaret (my wife) to lunch at Fogo de Chao. Fifty bucks wouldn’t quite cover it, but it’s worth the splurge.

Jody: That’s on my list of places to eat in Indianapolis! I’ll try it after the Superbowl maybe. What’s the best or most interesting thing someone’s said about Ashfall?

Mike: “Mullin never shies away from the truth, not once, in this book.”  Intergalactic Academy.

Jody: When’s the sequel come out?

Mike: October 8^th! There’ll be a big party on October 7^th at Kids Ink Children’s Bookstore. Hope you can make it!

Jody: Will there be a third book?

Mike: The third book is a few pages of random notes right now. I plan to produce a proposal and sell it to Tanglewood Press sometime next month. ASHFALL has sold so well that I don’t foresee any problems with that. I’d like to get it written in time for a 2013 release, but my top priority is to write the best book I can, not just to get it out by 2013. If it slips to 2014, I’m okay with that.

Jody: Sounds great!

Mike: By the way, it’s wonderful to work with a small publisher that shares my values in this regard. I already know that Tanglewood wants to publish the third book and is willing to give me however much time I need to write it. Many of my author friends write to very tight deadlines, so I’m well aware what a luxury it is to be published by Tanglewood.

Jody: Congratulations on getting published and having a great experience with your publisher. Thanks for stopping by, Mike. It was fun.

Mike: Thank you.

If you want to buy a copy of Ashfall, click on any of the links below. And, don’t forget to stop back by on Sunday to see this young adult author as a young adult.

Autographed Copies

Indiebound

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Here’s what Brodi has to say about getting ready for a dance her sophomore year:

Mama always told me, “Brodi, honey, if you wanna catch yourself a great man, you gotta make a great entrance.” Just kidding. She never said anything like that. But that’s what this picture makes me think.

Here, my friend Cherie (in the black) and I are practicing our graceful “walk down the stairs” and nothing says class at these moments like a chandelier with plastic garland hanging off of it.  As for my hair, lemme explain.

In my day:

1. You could never have enough bangs.
2. If your bangs could move of their own volition, you didn’t put enough hairspray on them.
3. Puffy sleeves were in. I swear!

Up close, you can see the detail on my Victorian Frock. I can imagine my mom seeing it in the store, and thinking to herself, “With that neck so high and tight, and that hem that hits her ankles, it’s practically it’s own chastity belt. No boy will want her after this.”

In case you’re curious, yes, I did peg my hems. I could peg anything in those days.

Frankly, Brodi, I’m glad our moms didn’t shop together. However, I think we shared the same hairspray fairy back then. And, despite all this, you are still cute as a button. Thanks so much for participating this Sunday! (I will see you on the Scrabble board, lady.)

Next week I’m featuring Mike Mullin, debut author of a contemporary YA book, Ashfall. Don’t miss it! It’s incredible. And remember, if you are a YA author and want to do a guest post here at Sparks and Butterflies (And how could you not?), please contact me at jody.mugele(at)gmail.com. It’s more fun than church.

This was not my best reading year. I read two less books than last year and didn’t fall in love with my list of books-read like I have in years past though there were some amazing standouts. Part of that may be because I saved a few that thought would be outstanding to read over my holiday break and then proceeded to watch movies and play Rock Band. I did some writing, too and to be honest, it was a really nice break. And part of the reason I think I didn’t fall in love as much was because I was reading authors’ second books, which sadly just don’t generally dazzle like their firsts. Anyway, here are my stats for reading this past year. And here’s for hoping that this is the year I sell my first book!

Books By the Numbers

Total books read in 2011: 26
Total books read that were considered YA: 22
Books by female authors: 19
Books by male authors: 7
Author’s first book: 8
Author’s first book, debuting 2010: 2
Books I read because I liked Author’s previous work: 9
Authors I found that I will read future books: 3
Books I started, but didn’t finish: 2

Books By the Substance

Favorite Character: Blake, Flash Burnout, by L.K. Madigan
Funniest Book: Flash Burnout, by L.K. Madigan
Tear Jerker-est: None this year had me crying, but I did read Gayle Foreman’s Where She Went, the sequel to If I Stay, a book that had me balling for days in 2009! And the sequel was a satisfying read.
The one I didn’t expect to Love, but WOW did I!: Nothing, by Janne Teller
Best Suspense: Drought, by Pam Bachorz
Best Romance: Boy Meets Boy, by David Levithan and The Big Crunch, by Pete Hautman
Best Book Cover: Girl (paperback), by Blake Nelson
Best Title: Gender Blender, by Blake Nelson
Book with the most heart: Flash Burnout, by L.K. Madigan
Most unique writing style: Girl, by Blake Nelson

Non-Contemporary YA Books I Read:

Middle Grade: Gender Blender, by Blake Nelson and Nothing by Janne Teller
Fantasy/Sci Fi: The Wolves of Mercy Falls, by Maggie Stiefvater (entire 3-book series), Drought, by Pam Bachorz, A Curse as Dark as Gold, by Elizabeth C. Bunce, and Please Ignore Vera Dietz, by A.S. King (included because it has a ghost).
Adult Fiction: The Help, by Kathryn Stockett (though it read a lot like a YA book – fast paced and young characters)
Non-fiction: Second Sight, by Cheryl Klein

My Top Picks for 2011

1. Flash Burnout, by L.K. Madigan
2. Girl, by Blake Nelson
3. Nothing, by Janne Teller
4. Boy Meets Boy, by David Levithan
5. The Big Crunch, by Pete Hautman

What about you all?  Anyone want to share some of their stats?

Goal One: For me, write a query letter.
Reward: Lunch

Goal Two: For me, finish characterization for new book’s main character, working title: DOLLY.
Reward: Cookies.

Goal Three: For me, list all actions scenes needed for this character to get through the book.
Reward: Glass of wine.

Goal Four: Take second pass at query letter.
Reward: Go to Young Adult movie with group.

Not usually being a goal-setter, I was really pleased with how this worked out. Really I think it’s more that I respond to peer pressure and don’t like being left out, so I was motivated to finish my goals. And I did!

I am now the proud owner of a query letter (for my current work) that is very nearly ready to go (if needed) and 33 scenes that need to be written in the new book. Now all I need is about another writing day to characterize the supporting cast and discover the scenes they need to be written. And then draft the book. Which will take about a month of writing days. But, I love that I know exactly where I’m going! Progress feels gooooooooood.

Must also record here that I was pretty disappointed with Young Adult. Boo. I knew the main character was going to suck as a person making YA authors everywhere roll their eyes, or cringe, or generally fart in this movie’s direction, but I was pretty excited about the flick. I figured, well, duh, this character just has to grow up, so that will be funny. But, nah. I don’t know what happened, but pretty much nothing. I think the main character thought she was finally going to grow up, but her actions didn’t really show it.

But, it was still a really great day and I hope that it happens again next year. Maybe we’ll see Mike’s book become a movie! One can hope.

Rackety Boom: My most favorite book from childhood. Not sure why I loved a book about a jalopy so much, but much thanks to my sister for finding it. It. Is. Awesome!

Lafcadio, the Lion who Shot Back: From Josh. The book we read on our first date.

I love being surrounded by these books so much!

And from Jan, I am so happy to have received the PERFECT clock. I’m going through an owl phase with the rest of America, and this clock is so perfect because Friday is my dedicated writing day. (I also dig there are no numbers on the clock.)

Mom put the icing on the cake with a gift certificate to shop for books at the local independent children’s bookstore, Kid’s Ink. My family gets me. I love them so damn much. Merry Christmas!