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NAME THE SOCK ELEPHANT
I have a sock elephant in need of a name.
[ETA(1): I am compiling a list of suggested names here.]
[ETA(2): The contest ends Monday, March 24, at 5:00 p.m. CDT.]
Our tiny, struggling, local co-op periodically has silent auctions of stuff that it looks like someone went out and found at garage sales. Much as I want to support our tiny, struggling, local co-op, my house already looks like a garage sale exploded in it. And mostly, the stuff in these auctions is not stuff I actually want.
But the last time around, one of the auction items was a sock elephant.
No, really. An elephant. Made of socks.
I cannot even explain to you how or why I fell in love with the sock elephant. But I did. Hard.
Problem was, I noticed the sock elephant on December 24, and the auction closed on December 23. With a bid down for the sock elephant. I felt weirdly bereft, but there was nothing to be done about it. Somebody else had won the sock elephant.
But come Boxing Day, the sock elephant was still sitting on the auction table, looking just a little bit forlorn. I'm in our tiny, struggling, local co-op fairly often, because it's where I buy milk and fruit, and I kept coming in and the sock elephant kept being there, looking a little more forlorn each time. Finally, last week, I caved and asked the cashier what was up. Had somebody WON A SOCK ELEPHANT and NOT CLAIMED IT?
Unimaginable as I found this possibility, it was true. The person who won the sock elephant had not claimed it. We're going to give them another week, the cashier said and looked at me hopefully. Yes, I said with that simultaneously sinking and exhilarating feeling you get when you out yourself as a complete freak. If the sock elephant needs a home, I'm interested.
I kept coming in, and the sock elephant kept being there. Forlornly.
Today, as I was standing in front of the produce section, contemplating the Fair Trade blueberries from Patagonia, the cashier said, Hey, are you still interested in the sock elephant? (I should add, this was not the same cashier. Clearly, word had gotten around.)
I donated $10 to our tiny, struggling, local co-op and came home with milk, blueberries, and a sock elephant.
When I was struggling miserably to finish Corambis, one of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heresluck's friends gave me Earl the Writing Frog, a little homemade beanbag frog to keep me company and to remind me to keep writing. And Earl did his job. He's still on my desk, along with the rest of the garage sale explosion. And I have decided that the sock elephant is something I am giving myself to remind me that no matter how ugly you are, somebody will love you. Baboon butt and all.
I need that reminder right now, because everything I write is getting blocked by the little inner voice that says, That's stupid. Nobody wants to read that. I know it's not true, but I am really struggling to get past it. And struggling. And struggling. And did I mention the struggling? My hope is that the sock elephant will give me a boost over the wall.
I have a novel coming out in April, my first new novel in five years. I am proposing a contest to name the sock elephant, winners to receive signed copies of The Goblin Emperor as soon as I get my author's copies.
GUIDELINES
0. This contest is open to anyone who wants to suggest a name.
1. The sock elephant is female. She has a ribbon around her neck and everything! Unisex names are also acceptable, and you know, if you tell me her name is Henry and it turns out I agree with you, you can win that way, too.
2. All decisions are mine: entirely subjective, finicky, irrational, and not up for discussion.
3. All entries are to be made in comments to this post. I am enabling anonymous comments.
4. You may suggest as many names as you like, in as many different comments as you like.
5. There will be two winners, one for the name I choose and one for the name I like the best. (For example, if you suggest Bombalurina, I think it is a fabulous name, but it is not my sock elephant's name. Ditto Tinuviel.)
6. The contest will closethe day I receive my author's copies MONDAY, MARCH 24, 5:00 CDT. I will then make a post announcing the winners (tagged "sock elephant" as this one is) and telling them how to contact me with their addresses so I can send them their books.
7. Please spread the word widely. My sock elephant needs a name!
[ETA(1): I am compiling a list of suggested names here.]
[ETA(2): The contest ends Monday, March 24, at 5:00 p.m. CDT.]
Our tiny, struggling, local co-op periodically has silent auctions of stuff that it looks like someone went out and found at garage sales. Much as I want to support our tiny, struggling, local co-op, my house already looks like a garage sale exploded in it. And mostly, the stuff in these auctions is not stuff I actually want.
But the last time around, one of the auction items was a sock elephant.
No, really. An elephant. Made of socks.
I cannot even explain to you how or why I fell in love with the sock elephant. But I did. Hard.
Problem was, I noticed the sock elephant on December 24, and the auction closed on December 23. With a bid down for the sock elephant. I felt weirdly bereft, but there was nothing to be done about it. Somebody else had won the sock elephant.
But come Boxing Day, the sock elephant was still sitting on the auction table, looking just a little bit forlorn. I'm in our tiny, struggling, local co-op fairly often, because it's where I buy milk and fruit, and I kept coming in and the sock elephant kept being there, looking a little more forlorn each time. Finally, last week, I caved and asked the cashier what was up. Had somebody WON A SOCK ELEPHANT and NOT CLAIMED IT?
Unimaginable as I found this possibility, it was true. The person who won the sock elephant had not claimed it. We're going to give them another week, the cashier said and looked at me hopefully. Yes, I said with that simultaneously sinking and exhilarating feeling you get when you out yourself as a complete freak. If the sock elephant needs a home, I'm interested.
I kept coming in, and the sock elephant kept being there. Forlornly.
Today, as I was standing in front of the produce section, contemplating the Fair Trade blueberries from Patagonia, the cashier said, Hey, are you still interested in the sock elephant? (I should add, this was not the same cashier. Clearly, word had gotten around.)
I donated $10 to our tiny, struggling, local co-op and came home with milk, blueberries, and a sock elephant.
When I was struggling miserably to finish Corambis, one of
heresluck's friends gave me Earl the Writing Frog, a little homemade beanbag frog to keep me company and to remind me to keep writing. And Earl did his job. He's still on my desk, along with the rest of the garage sale explosion. And I have decided that the sock elephant is something I am giving myself to remind me that no matter how ugly you are, somebody will love you. Baboon butt and all.I need that reminder right now, because everything I write is getting blocked by the little inner voice that says, That's stupid. Nobody wants to read that. I know it's not true, but I am really struggling to get past it. And struggling. And struggling. And did I mention the struggling? My hope is that the sock elephant will give me a boost over the wall.
I have a novel coming out in April, my first new novel in five years. I am proposing a contest to name the sock elephant, winners to receive signed copies of The Goblin Emperor as soon as I get my author's copies.
GUIDELINES
0. This contest is open to anyone who wants to suggest a name.
1. The sock elephant is female. She has a ribbon around her neck and everything! Unisex names are also acceptable, and you know, if you tell me her name is Henry and it turns out I agree with you, you can win that way, too.
2. All decisions are mine: entirely subjective, finicky, irrational, and not up for discussion.
3. All entries are to be made in comments to this post. I am enabling anonymous comments.
4. You may suggest as many names as you like, in as many different comments as you like.
5. There will be two winners, one for the name I choose and one for the name I like the best. (For example, if you suggest Bombalurina, I think it is a fabulous name, but it is not my sock elephant's name. Ditto Tinuviel.)
6. The contest will close
7. Please spread the word widely. My sock elephant needs a name!