Friday, October 29, 2010


Okay, all you ghouls and goblins, I’ve got a Halloween story to turn your stomachs…I received a super-cool setup from Kate Higgins—she sent the prompt for September’s entry in the Flash Fiction Challenge, remember? I’ve included the original text she sent below; the only change I made was switching from second person to first:

The crescent moon had long since set.

The nearby river’s nighttime gurgle and rush begins to sound like voices, voices talking about you, blaming you. You shut out the sultry, oppressive September night and pull down the shades and turned on your desk lamp.

You adjust the central air to 'cooler' and sit back down to your computer.

The low hissing tone refrigerated air begins to pour out of an ancient floor registers beneath your desk, blowing out new cobwebs and old dust around your legs.

Then a shallow, beseeching, breathless voice, somewhere deep within the register whispers, “Hollleeee………I’m…….here…….here. Holleeee?……..why…...…. why…..….did………... do…….it……….”

…But in order to find out what I did with Kate’s Halloween setup, you’ve got to watch the video. In the meantime, I’ve got to run…Katy Perry called, and she wants her wig back.

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Monday, October 25, 2010


Seriously. How cool is The Story Siren? (Don't we all think of it as the YA book blog?)

And how cool has Kristi (aka The Story Siren) been about A BLUE SO DARK? First, she gives me this incredible (five star!) review, then, in the midst of spreading the word about PLAYING HURT, she talks BLUE up in her latest In My Mailbox...

...And now? She's hosting a fantastic interview and a giveaway of a signed copy of A BLUE SO DARK! Yup, coolness runneth amok.

Friday, October 22, 2010


Yeah, I know...Haven't been around online too much this week. But I have good reason: I'm hard at work on edits for PLAYING HURT!

...So, so cool to see your book really coming to life, taking on its final shape...

Monday, I'll be back to share some fun news...Until then, keep those November prompts coming, and don't forget to sign up for the PLAYING HURT Blog Tour!

Friday, October 15, 2010


My local librarian shared the incredible news with me: A BLUE SO DARK is on Booklist's Top 10 First Novels for Youth!

...Talk about ending the week on a high note...

...And be sure to head on over to The Thoughts of a Book Junky to get in on a chance to win a copy of A BLUE SO DARK or a signed bookmark!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010


Now that I've posted the flash fiction for October, I'm ready and rarin' for November! This time, I need you to give me an object you'd like me to write about...Fill out this form to send me your ideas. Looking forward (as always) to reading your suggestions...

Monday, October 11, 2010


Simple math: A BLUE SO DARK + the Kindle = a big ol' smiley face.

Yup, A BLUE SO DARK is now available for my copy this morning!

Saturday, October 9, 2010


Okay, so I said I wanted scary…but October’s prompt actually made me think of scary in a new way. The prompt comes from Darlene Beck-Jacobson, who can be found online at She sent this phrase: everyone has them.

…And here’s what I came up with:

…Until The Laughter Dies
Holly Schindler

I figure we probably look a little like fifty-year-olds in prom dresses, the way we’re clustered on sleeping bags in front of the TV.

I mean, seventeen is way too old for slumber parties. But when Marie flunked the over-the-counter pregnancy test, we all decided to celebrate old-school. Even gave it a theme—80’s night, complete with tightrolled jeans and Mom’s VHS tape of FOOTLOOSE. Mom’s gone for the weekend, after all, and will never know we tunneled through her memorabilia.

“To not being forever linked to Dylan Street,” Marie shouts, and we touch the tips of our unwrapped candy bars in toast.

We laugh even louder than the girls on the tape, rolling into a heap of out-of-date concert T-shirts.

Until the laughter dies, along with the lights.

Blackness saturates my basement.

Lacey and Vanessa laugh again, snickering like the little girls we’re pretending to be.

“…breaker box,” I mumble, but as I grope through the dark, the door to the stairs slams shut. The unpredictable lock clicks.

Snickers again from the cluster of sleeping bags, softer this time. This laughter has a question mark behind it.

“I’ll—just—“ I say, pointing to the door to the outside.

A knock explodes against a window near the ceiling. Vanessa shrieks. I jump, turn, but darkness has dyed the glass, too.

The knock returns. Three knocks, this time. Each. Spaced. Evenly.

I grab a flashlight, fighting the fear that turns my arms slack. I feel every breath in the room being held as I inch toward the window.

When I flick on the beam, the window fills with hunter-orange—a ski mask. And an angry snarl of a mouth.

The basement explodes with screams; I drop the flashlight and the face disappears.

The door to the outside rattles beneath repeated blows.

I try to tighten my trembling fingers around the shaft of the putter Mom left beside the couch.

But I should have reached for the deadbolt instead.

The knob turns; the door creaks. Screams pelt my shoulders like winter rain.

Four against one, I think, trying to lean on odds.

I’ve barely started to lift the club when the ski mask steps in, snatches it from my hand.

I have nothing; I’m absolutely naked with defenselessness. I open my mouth, but I’ve lost my scream.

Moonlight stretches through the open door, lands across the ski mask.

Screams circle like sirens all around me as Marie, Lacey, and Vanessa charge to my side. Screams intensify as the man in the doorway grabs the mask beneath his chin and begins to peel it.

Lights pop, illuminating his face.

And Dylan Street dissolves into gotcha laughter.

The girls at my sides moan. Their laughter returns—staccato, hesitant. Still—laughter.

I try to shrug, playing like I’d suspected as much. I’m humiliated by the goose bumps racing down my arms…until I realize everyone has them.

Even Marie, who already knows that the only thing Dylan’s good at is scaring girls.

See what I mean? Really—what’s the scariest event here…the ski mask or the over-the-counter test? We all face really frightening things in our everyday life…far more frightening than any slasher movie!

Thanks to Darlene for giving me a bit of a fresh take on scary…and congrats to her as well! She’s now in the running for that holiday prize.

…And stay tuned for the details for November—coming soon! (I’ve got a super-fun idea for that one…)

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


Calling all bloggers: Now that I've whet your appetites with my incredible blurbs, you can get in on the being part of the PLAYING HURT Blog Tour! I'm still in the planning stages, and need your input...I look forward to hearing from all of you!

Click to be a stop on the tour: HOLLY SCHINDLER'S PLAYING HURT BLOG TOUR

Monday, October 4, 2010


Yes, oh, yes: I've received some ultra-flattering blurbs for PLAYING HURT from some fantastic YA authors! Just had to share...

"Is teen love 'real' love? Are the problems one faces in high school nothing compared to the problems one faces as an adult? Holly Schindler faces these questions head on in her excellent second novel, Playing Hurt. Clint and Chelsea, two ex-athletes, meet in the Minnesota wild. Chelsea is recovering from a physical injury, Clint from an emotional one. Together they explore the sometimes painful, sometimes passionate road to healing. Schindler does not sugar-coat the agonies and heartbreaks of first loves, first losses, and first disappointments. Anyone who says 'kids today have it so easy' should pick up a copy of Playing Hurt."—BRIAN KATCHER, AUTHOR OF PLAYING WITH MATCHES AND ALMOST PERFECT

"If you're a fan of romance, good luck putting this one down. Playing Hurt is a delicious, tantalizing love story that will captivate you until the final, satisfying sigh. Holly Schindler's lyrical writing is an absolute delight to read."—KRISTIN WALKER, AUTHOR OF A MATCH MADE IN HIGH SCHOOL

Sunday, October 3, 2010


Super-fun new interview at Things Liz Loves! Really love the "pick one" segment at the end of the chat...which reveals that I am still pining for my long-lost lizard loafers, 1987-1991. May they rest in peace.

And may I someday find a suitable replacement!
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