Scribble Interludes

Vogue

2008-10-10T12:04:00.001-07:00

I went to Vogue the other day. I had asked Abigail Walch, one of their feature editors with whom I am friendly, if I could come sit in the Condé Nast library to do research on my new novel, and she graciously said yes. So I put on my black high heeled boots, and a little black dress that I got at a little boutique in Silver Lake when I still lived in LA that I love because 1) the way it is cut, and 2) because its provenance is impossible to discern. And I he aded down to their great building on 42nd street. The library is on the 4th floor,
right by the cooking kitchen for Gourmet - yum! I got there about 11, and settled in at a table with books holding the archives of
Vogue from the '80's. If I ever doubted the power of advertising and/or the media, I don't any longer. I remembered every shot. Every one. I suddenly wondered if I had spent hours and days reading each issue when I was growing up. Not that it wasn't a happy pursuit, but still. Boy, did it bring lots back. And it opened up a whole aspect of the novel that I hadn't even thought about. I love when that happens, and have always believed that that is one of the most important parts of research is seeing a direction I need to go that I didn't realize I did. I even found a tiny little piece, literally 3 paragraphs about a law in Louisiana that completely pertains to my book. What are the odds of that?? It was a strange feeling to sit there perched above 42nd street in the city of my childhood dreams holding (albeit a different copy, but) an issue of Vogue that I had read as a teenager and to see the same images now that I saw then, and to have so many different reactions to them now. And friends from my life now that were in there back then when I had no idea who they were. Like an essay by Eve Babitz, a wonderful LA writer who I adore. It was an amazing meander down lots of different lanes.
Then, no surprise, I was famished. So I went to the famous and fabulous Condé Nast cafeteria. It reminded me a bit of the Warner Brothers' commissary, but East Coast style.
Here's my lunch:
I didn't get a picture of the two chocolate cookies I got, but they were really yummy, too. Then I went back to the library, and got on their computers for a bit to look at archives of the New Yorker from before Condé Nast bought it.
And I impressed myself that I was able to figure out the system, even though it was on a PC. - Elizabeth and Maggi and Dan, did you hear that??? ;) -
Then I had to run home as I was about to turn into a pumpkin - i.e. a mom. And to be honest, I was happy to get home, kick off my boots, and see my boys. We played tigers at the zoo. My bed was their cage, and I was the zoo keeper - I refuse to see this metaphorically! I fed them tasty treats, and kept the baby tiger from trying to get out of the cage. We all had great fun.
xo
And, no, Anna Wintour was never in sight.

Where I Was and Where I'll Be

2008-10-06T13:29:00.000-07:00

So, we went up to the Berkshires this past weekend to see my sister and her 6 year old son, and to go to the Berkshire Botanical Garden Harvest Festival, an event we haven't missed in three years. It was great fun. The weather was glorious, the leaves were turning, and I was able to pretend that winter isn't fast approaching. My 4 year old and his cousin went up in a cherry picker with my husband - here's the shot my husband took from the bucket. I get terrible vertigo which was explained to me once is the fear that one will jump if one gets close to the edge. Which I guess is how I feel. Or that the edge will somehow swoop up and engulf me, and sort of suck me off and take me down. Which I guess is another way of describing jumping. Anyway. I stayed on the ground. And was very happy when the three adventurers got down, too.

I'm thrilled to be doing a radio show with Book Club Girl on Wednesday, October 22nd at 7 pm EST. Here's the info and a link to the show. It's a call-in, so phone in. It'd be fun to say hey.
xo

What Was Lost

2008-09-30T09:41:00.000-07:00

I realize that I should acknowledge yesterday's huge drop in the stock market, but this morning, I was reminded of a loss of a different kind, one that hits me where I live each morning, one that can have me moaning any day, any time, and that is the loss of clothes. Particularly clothes that I have given away. When I was out this morning, I saw a woman wearing a great little black jacket. Kind of a boxy-cut, but still body conscious, small shirt collar, and great little pockets with dear grosgrain trim, but not precious. Very subtle, pseudo-Chanel. And I suddenly remembered (though how could I ever forget?) a very similar navy blue jacket from the 30's that I found in a thrift store in LA years and years ago. Where did it go? What impelled me to give that one away?? And it's not like it can be replaced. Living here in Westchester, I can't even go to a thrift store to nab some other great find to somehow salve this pain. Okay, yes, I can drive 20 minutes south and hit one in the City, but not really. Not an LA thrift store which really, to be honest, is the best kind of thrift store there is. Think about it. All the studios are there. All artifice is there. So the turn-over for wardrobe is insane, and where does the glut go?? To those stores. I miss them. And I miss a lot of clothes that I literally lie awake at night thinking about. Not a lot, usually only when my 21 month old wakes me up, and then he goes back down very quickly, but then I need to get back to sleep, and can't, so my mind wonders, and sometimes I think about lost clothes, which on one hand, in the realms of regret, is not so bad, considering what it could be, except when I'm getting dressed the next morning. So, I've decide to make a list of my most missed clothes. At least, if I can't wear them anymore, they can be immortalized.
1. aforementioned jacket. still in shock that I let that one go.
2. a Yohji Yamamoto black silk sweater. it was huge, and was like wearing water; it literally flowed all over me. it was heaven. I didn't buy it; a friend of mine in LA who was an oil heiress from New Orleans (her father used to go to Beirut when it was still the Paris of the Mid-East) gave it me. so wish I could wear that one now.
3. speaking of Paris, when I was there years ago, I found a wonderful little store in the Marais that had tons and tons of black leather coats. Not jackets, but coats. Those perfectly cut, very straight, very simple, and very fabulous black leather coats. I had one at home, so I bought ones for two friends (yes, the dollar was better then). I even had to buy a suitcase to get them home. both of my friends loved them - who wouldn't? - but then promptly, within a year, they both stopped being my friend. Okay, let's be honest, part of me did kind of feel like the guy who doesn't get the ring back after the engagement is cut off. These weren't candles or Splendid T-Shirts, for God sakes, they were black leather coats. Okay, whatever. I hope they are wearing them in good health, as my mother-in-law would say.
4. a great pair of tobacco colored khaki pants. Not that light sandy color everyone is making these day, this was that wonderful darker khaki color that I can't find anywhere anymore. What happened to that dye?? I just found a pair like them for my 4 year old son, and did have an insane moment of wondering how many I'd have to buy to cut up and take the pieces to my tailor to see if she could make a pair out of it for me. But I resisted. I love that color. nothing looks better with heathered gray.
5. here's a tough one: a beautiful gold pin that my mother gave me. this one was lost. I never would have parted with it. It was sort of a like a cross, but also with some fleur de lis thrown in, so it hit home for me on both counts. You could wear it tilted, so it was like some beautiful "X", very Paloma for Tiffany's kind of thing. Or it could be worn straight up, so it was like a cross, but since the sides were all even, not really. A private cross. I loved that pin. And I'm not a pin person. But this one was perfect. V bummed about that one.
If you see any of these anywhere, will you please let me know??
xo

Judging a Book By Its Cover

2008-09-18T12:59:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite experiences with my new novel, The Safety of Secrets, was the making of the cover. My editor, Carrie Feron, called me one afternoon and suggested that we use her daughter and HarperCollins colleague Debbie Stier's daughter for the photo. "Their ages are perfect for the girls during the flashbacks in the book," she said. "And I think it would be more interesting than having another book with grown women on the cover." I knew immediately that her idea was perfect. It was made even more so by the fact that my husband, Dan Fried, owns H & H Photographers, so I knew where we could get a great photographer!

The girls did an incredible job. Check out the photo album from the shoot, and the video that we shot during it. Aren't they amazing? They added such a beautiful layer to the novel, first as cover girls, but also in the connection that they have. Just looking at the picture brings back exactly what it felt like to be able to tell my best friend anything. And at every one of my signings, women always ask me about the picture because they are so drawn in by it. Shooting this cover was like doing a wonderful little silent play about the book - it captures the book's essence so completely.

And then last week, we got the fun news that the cover won a Silver Create Award. I'm honored and thrilled that these girls added such beauty and truth to the book. Here's to them!
xo

My Inner Hermit Crab

2008-09-09T18:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, be forewarned, this is about the hermit crab again. But I promise this will be the last posting about it for a long while. I hope. Are you relieved that our new pet is as sans personality as this one?? I am terrified to think how much I'd be writing about a cat. It's not like the crab does anything interesting. But I did promise a photo and I found that cord I needed to get the pics from my camera, so there they are. Okay, its cage is not as sad looking as it seems. I think it is happy, in a crabby sort of way. He's eating in these pictures; you just can't tell. I figured I could have taken him out of the cage, and gotten a good action shot, but I was afraid - okay, knew - that I would drop him, and then his shell might crack, and he would die of exposure. Or he would crawl on me, and I wasn't sure which would be worse, so those are the best I could get. Anyway. He really is a hermit. Then he'll have these periods of being out of his shell and seemingly never wanting to go back in. But then he does. I am finding him to be (I keep defaulting into the male pronoun for him. I could get all Freudian about that, but I won't) very helpful around nap and bed-time for my 20 month old. I am pretty much always able to tell my son that "woman man whatever it is momma daddy crab" is asleep and my son has to believe me because who can tell?? Though I keep waiting for the day when the damn thing pops its head out of its shell and yells, "No, I'm not!!" But it probably knows its future would be at stake if it did. So, that remains a ridiculous fantasy. I did take a page from its book, so to speak, today by not answering my phone. Mostly. Not that I always answer my phone. Frankly, I very rarely want to answer my phone. And a lot of the time, when the phone rings, I can't help but think of that old Dorothy Parker line, "What fresh hell is this?" Not that it ever really is. Usually, mostly, pretty much always, it is someone I am happy to talk to, so why I continue to have that reaction, I will never know. My sister-in-law, who is a urologist (and a great one if you are ever in need and in the NY area), has on her cell phone what I consider to be the best outgoing message. She gives the usual info, then concludes with, "If this is a true emergency, dial 911." I so want to say that on my cell phone. Doesn't that just take care of so much?? Talk about boundaries. Before I was married and had children and I was still living in LA, I used to give myself my own little hermit crab time and turn off my cell phone, leave my apartment, and drive up the PCH to Ventura, a good 45 minutes to an hour north. I loved being completely out of reach. Not that the hordes were trying to find me, but still. It was like I was in another state. The best times doing that were going home, and not even listening to the answering machine. Or really, not even checking to see if or how many messages there were, just going to sleep, and maybe not even checking them for awhile after I woke up. One night when I did that, I drove up to Ventura, then was back in LA, but still didn't want to go home, so I went to a movie theater in Westwood and got there just in time to see The Big Lebowski. I love that movie.
Maude Lebowski: What do you do for recreation? The Dude: Oh, the usual. I bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.
And
Blond Treehorn Thug: [holding up a bowling ball] What the fuck is this?
The Dude: Obviously you're not a golfer.
My husband and I watched it again a few weeks ago with some friends when we were at the beach. Seeing The Dude constantly holding a White Russian in his hand reminded me a bit of the iced decafs I've been living on all summer. Not that there's vodka in them. Or that I'm bowling. Or having any hermit crab time of my own. But I'm not really wanting it anymore.
Except when the phone rings.

By Any Other Name...

2008-08-29T08:55:00.000-07:00

We couldn't find Momma Daddy Crab's food - a small white bottle labeled Hermit the Crab food - so my four year old and I ran out the other day to get some. The nice man at the pet supply store helped me find another bottle, and seeing as how he was already helpful, I told him that I was a bit worried about the crab as all it does it stay in its shell. He looked at me for a beat, and then said, "It's a hermit crab. They stay in their shells. It's a hermit." Okay, how the literalness of their name escaped me, I have no idea. Especially considering that there is a long line of recluses in my family, like any good Southern clan. My son and I got in the car, and the issue of pronoun/gender came up about Momma Daddy Crab. I asked my son what he thought it was. He said, "I don't know. It's a crab." Clearly, I am the least clued in on this er, animal. Okay, it's not an animal, sea creature?? That night, as I was putting my son to bed, he said, "I've decided to rename Momma Daddy Crab since we don't know if it's a boy or girl." I said, "Great, what have you picked?" He said, "Woman Man Whatever It Is Momma Daddy Crab." So there it is. Perhaps this is an indication that the next pet should be gender identifiable.
xo
PS I will post a picture of said hermit crab - or a picture of his shell - when I can find the cord that makes the pictures go from my camera to the computer. Or however you describe that.

Hermit Crabs, Outer Space, and Peedles

2008-08-20T08:39:00.000-07:00

We just got back from Long Beach Island (aka the Jersey shore) and it was heaven. I have decided that it is my substitute for not being able to get to Navarre beach (on the Florida panhandle, literally favorite place on earth)now that I live up in Yankee country. It is so easy to get to and look at the beach:
We had such a great time. We went with another family - they also have a four year old son (same as my oldest) and a 14 month son (6 months younger than my youngest) and the kids had a grand time. One day, the older boys went out with their Daddies and came home with hermit crabs! First, my son named his Dan DeLauné Crab, then quickly changed it to Momma Daddy Crab. I would like to meet another hermit crab that has three names. The other little boy named his Ouchie Crab which I thought was very smart, albeit a bit pre-destiny of him. The next day, we went to visit the shop that the crabs came from. The guy who ran it was the embodiment of every Grateful Dead song ever sung, in the best possible way. Startling eyes, once you could see them, and rather shy - like a hermit crab, actually. But very sweet. My husband told me that when they were driving home with the crabs, our son was holding the little home (okay, yes, cage) in his lap, and said, "Momma is never gonna believe this!" and then he said very seriously, "This is a really special day." Okay, I would have let him have ten hermit crabs to hear him say that. And Momma Daddy Crab has proved to be a good pet. I know, it's only a hermit crab, they don't do much. But still. It's a good toe in the water for us in the realm of pets. When our youngest first saw the crab, he looked at Dan and me, pointed to the crab, then pointed to his opened mouth, and said, "Um, um um!" And we said, a bit horrified, "No, we don't eat the crab!" For the rest of the week, he would walk up to the crab's house (which was up on the mantel so he couldn't get to it), point to the crab, then point to his open mouth, and say, "Nooooooo." We were happy he understood, but the frequency with which he did this was a bit disconcerting. One could only think of Shakespeare- "Me thinks thou doth protest too much." So if the crab goes missing, I'm afraid we might know where to find him - or his remains.
That night in the bath, the two oldest boys were bathing together, and my son got brave and ducked his head under water with his eyes closed. The other little boy asked him, "What can't you see?" to which my son replied, "Outer space."

There was a wonderful pine tree in the back of the house, right near the deck where we had lunch every day. Our friends taught my youngest how to say pine needle, but in his haste of speaking - or just realizing that an improvement could be made - he rechristened them, "peedles." Then spent the rest of the lunches picking up peedles.
The older boys discovered a cache of sewing thread in a cabinet, unused for God knows how many years. (I grew up trying, and failing, to sew. I made a horrendous bright green - what was I thinking - wrap skirt, God save me, a pattern I picked because I wouldn't have to deal with a zipper, though I forgot about button holes, but even Momma wouldn't do button holes, and paid a woman to do hers, so I knew I could get off easy with those, but anyway. Momma kept asking me for months why I wouldn't wear that pretty skirt I made, and, of course, in the South it is hot all year long, so I didn't even have cold weather to blame for not being able to wear it, but anyway.) The boys proceeded to basically thread the house. The threads, it was explained to us, were electrical lines, and their work was quite intricate, not to mention extensive, and we started to feel that we were living with a couple of arachnids. Each boy also brought his own roll of bright blue painters' tape - yes, they get along like a house afire - so what with the thread and the tape, things were pretty battened down. We tried to get it all up before we left, but we could only imagine what the next renters thought when they found remnants of tape on the four poster bed, and thread from the banisters. But as long as there weren't peedles in the beds, I'm sure they were fine.
xo

All I Wanna Do

2008-08-06T18:13:00.000-07:00

Is organize my house. My husband has been waiting for this. For the past few months ever since I started my third novel, he has kept saying, "Feeling like nesting??" whenever he would see me moving something or refolding dish towels. "No," I would say, and a bit defensively if I'm going to be honest, and I may as well be since I'm the one who choose to bring this up. Then he would give me a "You will" kind of look. But not in a mean way. Not in an "I told you so" kind of way. Just in a "I've been through two novels with you, not to mention two babies, and I know what you do." Which is true, and which(ugh! I can't use that word anymore without thinking of my editor at HarperCollins who can't stand it, which is (or "and that is" - now come on, don't you prefer "which is"???) a drag as it is so one of my favorite words, Strunk and White be damned. But this is my blog, and not a MSS I have to turn in, so I will just "which" away to my hearts content. If this annoys you to no end, consider yourself forewarned) reminds me of a weird thing about all this: with a baby, I don't need to nest until just before he (I only have sons) arrives, yet with my novels, I have to nest somewhere in the early stages, but only when the novel suddenly decides that I must.
And it has. Really really has.
But I can't, pretty much. With my first novel, no one had been born yet, so organizational orgies could occur whenever I would block out a full day and night, and possibly even the next day, too. Okay, I have to confess, few things make me happier in life - family excluded - then an entire block of time, with no phone calls, no obligations, no getting acceptably dressed, and a wonderfully full closet or room that I can go through each and every inch and object and put all of them to the test of "go (a good percentage goes to charity), stay, and if so, put where?" This is heaven. And feels just as unobtainable to me right now because of my sons. Not that I am blaming them; I am just being realistic about what can be done. So I have started scheming. I will find a night when they go to bed early - it was 8 tonight, so maybe I can get a 7:30 soon - and my husband is out, and I will pick a room. Or a closet. And just do one at a time. Like I did with the last book. And that will work fine.
Herewith is my list of attack:
1) The playroom - so want/will get a more functional bookcase for all the stuff. Then I cannot wait to organize said piece with bins for every tool (toy and real) ever made, firetrucks, those small pieces that cannot be thrown away, markers and crayons, cd's - you know the stuff. Oh, and finally put all the pieces of things with their rightful sets. It will last for 15 minutes, but it will be glorious. Like Camelot.
2) The closet in the playroom - a catchall if there ever was one. It always looks much Yikes!-ier than it is, so the attendant wave of satisfaction upon completion is quite high without sheer exhaustion.
3) The kitchen. I have some empty drawers in here - another item at the top of my list of things that delight. It is the spacial equivalent of tithing. I must live in a large house (have lots of money), if I don't even use up all the space (have enough to give away). My kitchen, like the whole house, is pretty much all windows. Love the views; really miss a floor-to-ceiling pantry, so regular sorting out of the food items that have willfully congregated towards the dark recesses of the lower cabinet is a must. Not to mention that my sons usually find the cake mix, so we can celebrate moved around dry goods with cupcakes.
4) The hall closets. Okay, if you haven't stopped reading by now, please don't feel any obligation to continue. This is so vicarious for me, it is insane. I have no doubt that there is little to no interest in this for anyone else, but I am so feeling so much better by doing this, however please don't stay on here just for me! Okay, one closet is where all the coats and winter stuff collect, and the other is for vases, serving pieces (yes, I'm Southern; I actually use all that stuff I got for our wedding) and linens. Or most of them. I have others hidden around the house in various trunks that are pretending to be coffee tables and side tables. Love going through linens. They feel so good to fold and hold - except bottom sheets. I don't think I will ever know how to fold those goddamn things.
5) The boy's room. Not as scary as it sounds. Mostly it will be going through books, and giving away ones they have moved on from, and pulling down ones they are ready for. Will give away a sorting toy that my youngest has been ignoring for months.
6) The bathrooms. Another easy one. Throw out expired medicines. Throw out cosmetics that I pretended to be happy when I got samples of, yet know I will never use. For that matter, throw out the last lipsticks that I have not worn in four and a half years since my oldest was born and I found the absolute best lip gloss in the entire world, and I know that it is because a woman asks me where I got it literally three times a week and they always tell me later how much they love it, too. Trucco - sugar, sugar, if you are interested.
7) My closet. Though I'll probably wait until the cold weather comes so I can put away my summer clothes. No, my closet isn't big enough to have everything hanging at once. But since I grew up doing this bi-annually with my mother and all four older sisters in the big living room that had become a sea of huge boxes with tons of clothes climbing out of them that we would go through and try on and decide what we liked or fit that season, this is as much part of my year as the budding trees.
8) My husband's closet. Doesn't take terribly long, and always makes him very happy when I reorganize his shirts so they are hanging according to the color wheel.
9) My office/desk. The file cabinet is never fun. Ugh. But it is also never as horrible as I imagine it will be.
10) I can also do the attic and basement and outside shed, but these are pretty back-burner, and although the attic has a ticking clock with the cold weather coming, these aren't such a big deal. Mostly because they still look pretty okay from the last time I did them.
11) There isn't another item for this list, except for me to say that yes, I realize that I am insane. But it is an orderly kind of insane, and that must count for something.
I hope.
I'll let you know how it goes.
xo
And no, I don't make house calls.

And They're Off

2008-08-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

It's Monday night, a bit after 10 and I have only just now gotten both boys asleep. It stays light so much later here in the summer - which I love - much later than it does in LA or Louisiana, being that much farther north. So the long days don't help my boys get to bed, and my husband's family came over for sushi that we ate outside since there was no food in the house (and my husband is literally the most wonderful man in the world because he just left a few minutes ago to go to the grocery store, and I so thought I'd have to do that tomorrow. I am beside myself with joy that I don't have to.) We were in Saratoga this past weekend, and it was heaven! I adore it up there. All these beautiful farms and old barns, and then these darling little towns and villages filled with Victorian houses, and fabulous brick factories near railroad tracks that are now being used for artist collectives or office space, and great little shops, and streets that you just want to ride a bike down, and stop somewhere and climb a tree. We left Friday morning, but the night before, my husband and I went into the city to see Charles Bock and Richard Price reading at SummerStage in Central park. Here is a picture of the stage before they came on, and a picture of them, but blurred, so neither helpful to you at all, but they are all that I have. I am not a photographer!!
Yet insist on putting photos on here!!
Charles read from his new novel at Spoken Interludes this past May, and he was such a showman, so when I got an email from him that he was doing this, it sounded like the perfect summer date, which it was. We had dinner on Columbus, which was fine, but walked through the park, and that was wonderful. Charles was great - read the section he read at SI, a total heartbreak about the mother after the boy leaves, and then one about Cherry and Ponyboy, then Richard Price came on and was the elder statesman of night - kind of cranky, but sweet. Then we walked back through the park, and went for ice cream, and it was one of those perfect summer nights where there was no place more wonderful to be, except possibly walking along the Seine, but even then we'd be dealing with humiliation at the exchange rate, so this was better. All that is to say, that we played hooky from packing when we got home, then of course had to take both boys to the doctor in the morning - colds, nothing bad - so didn't get on the road until noon, but both boys slept and then were fine the rest of the way. it is only a 3 hour drive which they can do pretty well. Naps, snacks, and identifying every truck on the road, plus a couple of books, and we are there.
We stayed with good friends in Ballston Spa who live in the kind of house I have in my dreams - our is mid-century which I love now, but I will always feel more at home with bead board, and medallions, and deep porches. Isn't it heaven?? And my friend's taste is exquisite.
They have a darling 3 year old girl and she and my older son were
thick as thieves in two seconds. The game of the weekend was doctor. The bones in my husband's stomach were broken. My blood plessure (that isn't a typo) was bad, and had to be monitored constantly, and many shots were administered by all three children, yes, even my 18 month old got some in. I left right after we got there to do an event at The Round Lake library,
there it is. How darling is that?? I was checking my myspace page one day, and saw a friend request from this library, so I googled it, and it turned out to be literally 10 minutes from my friend's house, so I emailed them, and told them I was going to be there for an event at Borders that weekend, and would they like me to come by, and they kindly said yes, and there I was. It was so sweet. A lovely Victorian converted to a library. They had set out cookies and lemonade and watermelon. That kills me when people do that. Maybe it is a lifetime of being in a family that throws parties at the drop of a hat, but when someone puts out food, it really goes straight to my heart. It was a small group of us, but so fun. We talked like old friends, then I read for a bit. I read a section from the South Louisiana flashback part because there was a teenager there, and her 12 year old sister, and they had been telling me about being home schooled which I found fascinating - one reason I love doing these things, how else could I have met these people to hear about this?? - and their mother, who was like a more open and warm Kathy Bates, was with them and the LA section that I normally read has a couple of lines that are at a bit blue, but anyway. It was great fun, and they all bought both of my books, and I promised I'd come back. wonderful husband just returned with groceries. this entry is too long!! anyway. that was great fun, then I went back to our friends, and they'd made yummy dinner, and the next day we stayed around there, and it felt like early fall, there was a nice light breeze, and more friends came over with more yummy food, and the kids played. The Ballston Spa Film Festival was that weekend, and my husband was judging in it, so he went off for that stuff, then Sunday, while my husband took the kids to the races with our friends, I did a signing at Borders in Saratoga, and had a great time. Met lots of fun women, and sold all but a few of the books. My husband has pulled out the Sunday crossword puzzle and watermelon, so I think I'm off to do that. more soon.
xo

Home Team

2008-07-28T12:07:00.001-07:00

So, I had a bunch of fun events last week. I was at the Hudson Valley Writers' Center with
Jamie Malanowski who read from his new novel, The Coup - a biting satire about the political scene. And I was happily surprised to find my friend, Chris Raymond, editor for ESPN books, doing the introductions. A terrible thunder storm threatened the whole evening, but held out until the end - even nature was supporting the written word.
Then I drove up to the Boston area with my family on Friday. We stopped in the Berkshires for lunch with my sister and her husband and son, then all of us caravaned up to Newburyport where I read with my cousin Andre Dubus at Sue Little's Jabberwocky Book Store, a haven for lovers of literature if there ever was one. Sue has a wonderful area behind the store for events, and all the balconies and chairs and halls were packed with people to see Andre. It is, as a reporter for the local paper said in an article he wrote about my book, Dubus country.
I went first, and after thanking Sue for having me back - I was there for Aftermath of Dreaming - I told the crowd that Andre's daddy and my momma (brother and sister) grew up in South Louisiana, and I grew up in Baton Rouge, otherwise known as Death Valley because of the LSU Tigers' stadium. So being there at Jabberwocky to read with Andre felt a bit like playing with the LSU Tigers for their homecoming game. I was honored as hell, but just relieved I wasn't the quarterback. But it was an amazing night, it almost reminded me of my acting days. They were one of the best audiences ever. And Andre was the generous and funny and brilliant man that he is. We sat at the signing table for over 2 hours and I think I met everyone in Newburyport. This is us after it is over (Sue is in between us) and the only sustenance Andre and I had had since lunch were the grapes on the table. (And yes, I'm wearing the same damn skirt!) But it was an amazing evening, and I feel so blessed to have such a great cousin whom I adore as a writer and as a family member, and was so sweet to invite me to read with him like that. I did Borders in Braintree - south of Boston - the next day - and wore different clothes, but of course don't have pictures!! The manager there, Stacy, was wonderful and so sweet. I met lots of fun people who bought my book, and just loved chatting with them. My husband brought my sons in when I was finished and Stacy gave them a stuffed animal of Pigeon from the Mo Willems series - how lovely was that?? She was a dear. Then we went to Jeb's house where all the Dubus' gathered and we stayed up too late, but then slept late (7:30!!! I realize to most of the world, that is early, but it is noon as far as my 18 month old is concerned), Sunday morning, and we convened again at Aunt Pat's for all-morning breakfast. Thanks to my home and family here in New York, and Dubus cousins in Massachusetts, I think I might actually belong up here in the North. Maybe.
xo

2008-07-22T20:26:00.000-07:00

I went into the city today for an afternoon and evening of appointments. This morning before I left, I suddenly realized I was experiencing free-floating anxiety, which, while unpleasant, did remind me of an old Roz Chast cartoon in the New Yorker from forever ago, entitled: "Little Beverly Playing Cards - Play 'Em! Collect 'Em! Trade 'Em!" The cartoon showed Little Beverly - yet another of Chast's odd little girls - in a series of prosaic tasks, until the last card showed Little Beverly standing still in the middle of nowhere with the caption, "Little Beverly experiences free-floating anxiety." Clearly, this cartoon struck a chord. So while I am never unhappy to be reminded of a Roz Chast cartoon, I wasn't thrilled about this anxiety especially since I don't have it very much, or if I do, I at least know what it is about. I ran through the list in my mind of possible options, but all is fine, until I was on the train going in, and realized that it was because I was leaving my children. Now, mind you, my children are fine. They love and adore my sister (who was babysitting) to the point where when I leave, it is not an issue at all. I know they are in great and capable hands. And for my end, I spend lots of time with them, happily so. But frankly, sometimes it just doesn't feel like enough. Especially in the summer. To be honest, the only thing I feel like doing lately is being in the park with them, playing in the sand, and caring about whose turn it is on the slide. I took the subway from Grand Central to the upper west side, and was walking up Columbus when I passed a woman pushing a double stroller - not a difficult sighting in that neighborhood. In the stroller were two little girls who looked about my sons' ages - 18 months and 4 and a half. Our eyes met, and I told her that my two were at home. We exchanged their ages, bonded on similar spacing, and then I said, "I wish I were with them now. I had a really hard time leaving them today." And we talked about just wanting to play with them as much as we can in this tiny, finite, little patch of a moment that we get with them at this age. Playing with them at home in our yard, or at the park, or on the couch which is suddenly a plane is such an amazing escape for me from all the other stuff that my mind is sure - and will tell me - is important and necessary. And on one hand, it is. But not more them. I have really just been wanting to play with them this summer, and am as much as I can. My youngest is 18 months and I adore that age. He thinks he is four, and keeps up with his older brother quite grandly, but his little body betray himself in very dear ways. His days are an opera of "no's." But they are sung so sweetly, they invoke laughter in me rather than upset. My oldest is all about going to the doctor now. He is constantly bandaging everyone in the house, and having his leg wrapped with this green safety tape that another one of my sisters gave him for his work sites. He always reminds me of a painting I used to look at when I was five in this book my momma had called, "Great Paintings of the World" of three Civil War soldiers hobbling home with their legs, arms, and heads wrapped with bandages. He is constantly coming up to me and say, "I need to tell you something by whispering." then he leans into my ear for the secret, which usually starts with him saying, "Are I....?" I will be heartbroken when that stops. Sorry for the smushiness about my children. I meant to write about other stuff, but ended up not.
xo

The Birds & the Bees and Cookies

2008-07-03T12:20:00.000-07:00

So, a friend of mine just got home last night from a long vacation only to discover two new kittens. This in itself is shocking enough, seeing as how she didn't even know that the mother was pregnant, but it was made even more so by the fact that said cat had just had a litter in April. I think my sons' reactions summed it all up: my 18 month old grinned madly while waving his arms ecstatically in the air, and my 4 year old said one word,
"Why?"
And come to think of it, that is exactly what he said when we told him that I was pregnant (and no, it wasn't a "we", there is nothing "we" about pregnancy), and he was going to have a little brother.
"Why?"
I thought it was a reasonable response. Why exactly? But thanks to reading my Penelope Leach, we didn't try to pass off some, "Because we love you so much, we wanted more" answer, which really if you think about it makes no sense. Or is only setting him up for a lifetime of excessive longing and/or addiction - there's a fate. So we just said, "Because we are, and he's going to be part of our family." Then he cuddled in my lap for awhile and seemed more interested in my protruding belly than he had been before, but then he got on the floor and we played airplane. And had a cookie.
And speaking of, I was in my favorite place in this area to get a cookie and coffee, Coffee Labs in Tarrytown, NY. I wrote most of my blog essays in there, and got to listen to music I'd never find or turn on myself and was well supplied caffeine-and-sugar-wise. And ending up going every week.
Why?
Because I love them so much, I wanted more.Post Options

Hawks & Love

2008-06-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all,
So, my sweet cousin, Michel Allen (who grew up in Memphis), had a book party for me last night at her art gallery, The Allen Gallery - Southern hospitality lives in Chelsea. It was great fun, like all of her art openings - definitely check them out on Thursday nights. Liz French and Faygie Levy from Romantic Times came by. Liz was wearing a fabulous dress, and yes, that is the same outfit I wore in Natchez, and I have little excuse since I dressed at home with my whole closet at my disposal, but with little time since I was with my small sons, but anyway.
Patrick Knisley from 192 Books (don't miss their writers' series at the store and at the NY Public Library - Salman Rushdie & Jeffrey Eugenides is tonight. Oh, to have a sitter again and be at that one!) had one of his fabulous employees there, then he joined a bunch of us afterward at my second most favorite NY bistro
La Luncheonette, but soon to be my most since Florent is closing in a few days thanks to horrendous rent increases in the meat packing district. Major dismal news. NYC is supposed to have terrible neighbors with little finds nestled in them like jewels. But no longer. God save me from more gentrification. I used to live around the corner from La Luncheonette on 20th between 9th & 10th before I moved to LA supposedly only for a month, but then stayed for way longer than 10 years. Back when I lived in Chelsea, I used to see Debbie Harry prowling the aisles of the awful Safeway (remember that one?) that is long since gone. She was a much better site than the ridiculous crowds that were on 10th avenue last night when we walked to our car at midnight. Not a decent transvestite in the mix which used to be all my ex-boyfriend and I saw when we ambled over to the Empire Diner for a late night sup of my favorite meal: ice coffee and french fries, the best in NY.
Okay, that is my love letter to my old stomping grounds.

This morning, my husband and sons and I woke up to the baby red-tail hawk that has taken up residence here. He was sitting on a large rock in our backyard,
screeching like a madman. He looks small and unprepossessing in this picture, but don't be fooled. He is quite large, and not shy. He loves chipmunk - guess how we know that? - and our sons' slide. Our 18 month old was very unhappy the first time young hawk landed on the slide, and stayed there as if it were his own. My son looked at me with as much distaste as I had for last night's crowds, and tried to shoo him away. Needless to say, the hawk didn't budge. I guess both are here to stay. Somehow, I think the hawk sticking around is a better sign.
xo

Home Again, Home Again - For Now

2008-06-24T18:52:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all,
So I'm back from my tour, for now. As y'all know, my two young sons (four years old, and 17 months old) came with me, and they were the best traveling companions ever. Seriously. And they are generally pretty easy kids—considering the fact that they never stop moving and there is a constant rotation of fire truck/work site/ball games in our house—but still, they are under five, for God's sake. But they were such pros that I felt like I was with the editors of Condé Nast Traveler, and maybe I was—future ones. And the best part was that we all had fun. Always important! So we're home, but I still have a bunch of dates left. So check them out, and if you are near one, come by—it'd be great to see you.

Here's a bunch o' photos. And my little travel editors say hey.
xo

Okay, this was in Monroe, La. I drove over there from Jackson, MS to tape a radio interview at 8:30 AM for Lagniappe on KEDM with Sunny Meriwether, and yes, she is as much a bright light as her name implies. Then I had a reading that night at Windows, bookstore of the much fun Elisabeth and Pat who do The Book Report that I taped the week prior, but I had the day to myself - hence the blog posting before this one, if any of this is making sense! Help! Anyway. I forgot to get photos with Sunny or at Windows. Major :( BUT I did take pictures of where I ate lunch, infer from that what you will. This is my table at The Pickle Barrel. Do not miss this place next time you are in Monroe. It is where all the locals go. I felt like I lived there. I was waiting for my next door neighbor to walk in and sit down. It was heaven. And, yes, the pickles were homemade and great. Then I got true Southern Hospitality when Monroe resident and angle incarnate Mary Brinson met me for dinner at Genusa's before my event. Okay, if I'm not going to eat a lot down South, where will I??

The next day, my cousin Henry and I drove to Natchez, a gorgeous little town on the Mississippi which is famous for having the pilgrimage tours every spring where 25 antebellum mansions are open to the public. Girls dress up in period dress and give tours. Two of my sisters did it one year, and I was so jealous of their hoop skirts (hello, Crimes of the Heart). Maybe I wore my most colorful skirt to Natchez in some subconscious honor of that. Anyway. I had a great time at Turning Pages book store. Mary and Pat had made pimento cheese sandwiches cut into diamonds with the crust off, and sweet tea. Major yum.

Then on Sunday, we drove to Memphis, and the next morning (6/16), I did an interview on Live at 9 on WREG. Okay, I am still trying to figure out how to get to the video of my interview to play on their website, and have no idea. Can I just not be a Luddite for once?!! If anyone figures it out, please yell.

After that, we went to CMOM, (Childrens Museum of Memphis - hugely great fun. FedEX donated a cockpit to them, and my 4 year old was out of his mind with joy) then to my favorite eatery, the Piccadilly! I know, I already ate there on this trip (2x before!), but how ca I resist? My kids had the best time picking their dishes of food. And where else can you get okra as a matter of course? I miss the food I grew up on!!

Then I taped a radio interview with Stephen Usery for WYPL's Book Talk. We just sat and visited about Stuttgart, and the Heat Wave of 1980, and other obscure, but important parts of my life that I rarely, if ever, get to talk to one person about who also happened to experience them. Finally, we taped a show.

That night, I did an event at Davis-Kidd; I so love that store. It's huge, but feels like it could be your library in some crazy perfect bibliophile kind of house. Anyway, one of the people who came was this amazingly sweet new friend of mine, Lindy, who I met on Gather.com, this new (at least to me) site where you can connect with other reading/writing lovers. They become a kind of wonderful internet family for me.

The next day, we flew home. I so had to pay the extra baggage fee :( But it was the first time on the entire trip, so I can't really complain. But I will.

One night later, I had a Spoken Interludes here in NY with David Rabe, Mark Doty, and Kathryn Harrison. They were amazing - all such different, but powerful voices.

And it's nice to be home again. Jiggity Jig.

A Day of One's Own - Sorta

2008-06-09T13:47:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all
Apologies for another gigantic posting - it's been hard having time to get on here with tour stuff and spending time with my sons, but I am in Monroe, La for the day having a day of one's own, to paraphrase dear Eudora which is apropos since I drove here from Jackson, Miss for an 8 am live radio interview with Sunny Meriweather - how much do we love her name? and she totally lives up to it in the best possible way, this woman is pure light - for her show, Lagniappe, on KEDM. For y'all non-Louisianians, lagniappe means something extra. Sorta like a baker's dozen, but with extra hospitality thrown in. At 5, I'll have diner with a new friend, the force of nature Mary Brinson who made this day the wonderful thing that it is, and then a reading at Windows at 7, then back to Welty country.
But to pick up where I left off on my last posting:
This past Monday, I went to Lake Charles, where Fiona and Patricia - the main characters of my new novel - are from. I spent summers there as a girl visiting my grandmother, and I specifically set the novel there so I could go back and visit. It was heaven. Right when I got there, I drove straight to my grandmother's old house- she has been deceased since the '80's. I saw a woman watering the grass next door and introduced myself and she told me that the house is going to be torn down because of the damage it sustained in Hurricane Rita. I am beyond heartbroken, but so relieved that I was able to get there and see it one last time. isn't it wonderful? There is an amazing attic up there that was made into a playroom that was wallpapered with New Yorker covers from the 1920's up to the '50's. I put that room in my first novel. and I made this Fiona's house in my new novel. I so loved it.
And this is the pavilion that Fiona and Patricia play in as children in the novel, and where my sisters and cousins and I all played as kids, acting out all sorts of dramas and romances.
The house behind it is antebellum.
We never saw anyone in it, but
always imagined it was a very
benevolent elderly woman who
didn't mind us trampling her yard and jumping around her statue. And this is Lake Charles, as seen from my grandmother (and Fiona's virtual!) house. That's a beautiful bridge all the way across. It was a beautiful white-gold low rainbow at night.
And this is the entrance to Drew Park - another locale in the novel. The wrought iron arch above the pillars says Drew Park. My husband or four year old would have been able to make that visible, but I was lucky to get the framing straight - kinda. But that led to the bike path we took there to play on the jungle gym and clubhouse for ping pong games - both make appearances in the book. I could feel the shorts high on my legs, and imagine the restful, cold quiet of my grandmother's home when we'd come in after playing. She always had an old fashion at 5, and we'd have shirley temples and peanut butter on saltine crackers before a cold supper at 6. Dinner was at noon. This was the South! I would always make her drinks because I put in 2 jiggers of bourbon instead of one, and she'd always say, "DeLauné, you make the best old fashions." As if she had no idea that they were stronger than hers, though maybe she didn't. This was when I was 8 or so. She was a grand woman. Very elegant, but with a great sense of humor. She is much missed.
Then I went to Books-a-Million for a signing, where I felt like I was returning to the hometown of my dreams. We sold out of books after an hour and a half, and I met such wonderful women. Everyone was so happy to connect, an amazing bookclub came, The Pulpwood Queens. I love these women. They have pink t-shirts and tiaras, and so get the lifelong sister/friend female thing. I met a cousin, Traci Dubus, and her darling daughter Molli. Traci had grown up hearing about our ancestor in Marie Antionette's court, but didn't know the full story, so I filled her in.(the woman I was named for Helene Delaune was going to go to guillotine, but Marie Antionette gave her jewels for her and her husband to escape. I think that is a future book.) Then I did an event at the central library, and they had someone from the Junior League make appetizers and they gave me the Junior League cookbook - my husband is thrilled!! We can just close our eyes, open to a page, and find a great new dish for dinner. And, it's food from home! They both want me to come back in the fall, which I will in a heartbeat. They were so wonderful and welcoming.
Tuesday was New Orleans. It started with an interview with Susan Larson of the New Orleans Times-Picayune at CC's, Community Coffee's local cafe. If you think you are happy with Starbucks, order Community Coffee and find nirvana. And it's from New Orleans! She was so fun to visit with. She knows my whole family and had great stories to tell me about them, I mostly wanted her to talk more than me. Then I did a half hour taped radio interview for WRBH with Deb McDonald - she was great fun. Then I went to my dear dear friend, Sid Montz' stunningly gorgeously restored 1880's home off of Prytania street,and called in to do a taped radio interview for the Book Report - here's the MP3. I love Elisabeth and Pat -their voices combined are like a great old fashion (there's that drink again, I really am home!) - one's bourbon and the other is sugar.
After that, Sid and I went by Octavia Books (pic on left)to sign stock and see Tom and Judith and their darling puppy - my youngest son would have loved him!
Then I went to Garden District Book Store
for a reading and signing - that's me with my cousin René Thionville, and you can tell his accent by his name. I could listen to him all day. The voices down here are just heaven. My husband keeps telling me that every time we talk, mine is thicker and thicker - thank God!! After that, Sid and I had dinner at a great Uptown restaurant, then I drove back to big BR (Baton Rouge, or le rouge, as a friend used to call it.)
Wednesday in BR started with a live radio interview on the Jim Engster show, then I picked up my sons, and we went to see the school I went to, St Joseph's Academy, where the kind and delightful and regal Sr. Joan took us around for a tour and let my older son pick out two old school desks for us to get up to NY somehow for him and his brother to use - wasn't that lovely of her? They were throwing them out, but they are in gorgeous condition, the oak wood perfect, so the timing was great. Then lunch with my Aunt Kathryn and cousin Cathy, then off to see the most important resident in Baton Rouge (in many people's opinion) the one, the only Mike the Tiger.
Yes, he has his own website). After LSU won the championships, Mike got these new digs - and no, my pic does not do it justice. When I was little, he had a humble home, but he has stayed the same at heart (even though he is a different tiger!), when we got there, he was napping in the shade mostly out of view just like he always was when Momma would take me to see him. But that's the Mike the tiger experience. Kind of the reverse of an LSU game. There is nothing sleepy about that experience. My older son wished Mike were a camel. I won't tell the rabid LSU fans that!!
Then I had a reading/signing at Barnes and Noble that night - I promise I'm wearing a different skirt and top than the other pics, it's just hard to tell!! - and that was wonderful fun to see old friends and meet new people.
Then on Thursday, yesterday, we drove to Jackson, Miss, and I got
the boys settled with Julia (who has been a godsend on this trip) at my cousin Henry's house, and Henry and I went to Lemuria, a book store I love. That's us with his friend Karla - she's a hoot, as any good Jackson girl is. One of the wonderful people at the store, Joe, has been to parties at the house my father grew up in when he was a boy in Jackson - too small a world. We traded baby pictures. I was pregnant with my second when I was there two years ago with my first novel, and he and his wife were about the have their first child, and since have had a second. so that was dear to see those pictures.
Then off to Piccadilly - a restaurant I put in The Safety of Secrets - they are all over the South - don't miss them if you get down here - yum!!
And now we are caught up with me in Monroe. Tonight is a reading/signing at Windows. More pics soon.
xox

Suspicous Ocean and photos from the road

2008-06-08T21:34:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all,
So I am getting my sea legs, so to speak, on touring with two small children while keeping up with all things web, but I am glad to be getting back to my blog!

The first reading was at the Borders in Portland. They did a wonderful event, and some people I know from gather.com came, so that was great getting to meet cyber-friends in person. Another woman there knew me from my reading series, Spoken Interludes, in LA. She just happened to be at Borders that night, saw the sign about my event and stayed. Great Serendipity!

The next day, we flew to Albuquerque, and my husband and sons went to my sister's house - heaven with a pool, I would never leave if I lived there - while she and I went to my event in Santa Fe - great fun and great sister visiting. And I got some pool time the next day!

The next morning, a radio interview on KHFM-FM with Kip Allen at 8 am - early, but worth it. I'll get the Mp3 to put on here soon.
The event at Borders that night had a great crowd and fun book-club like discussion. And Whole Foods was next door to stock up on organic chocolate - hooray!

Our digs in LA. Craig's list has been the saving grace this tour. How cute is this? Bungalowsweet.com if you need a place to stay.
And it's more spacious than their website makes it sound. Plus La Cienega park is two blocks away. A happy child (or two) is a happy momma.

BEA was Saturday. I had a signing that
morning, then got to see friends/Spoken Interludes Honorary Board members Robert Crais, T. Jefferson Parker, and Michael Connelly (the triumvirate of the mystery world) in a panel that afternoon about audio books. That's my friend, Betsy Little, with Michael and me.
The HarperCollins party was that night at Fox. It was funny to be on the lot as a non-actor - funny, but really nice. I shot NYPD Blue there, not to mention countless auditions, which I don't miss at all!!

Spoken Interludes was Monday night. Litblogger Mark Sarvas of the Elegant Variation and Marisa Silver read from their beautiful new novels. Michael Kearns read a powerful piece about his work with children with AIDS in Africa, I read, and the gloriously funny Taylor Negron read a piece he wrote for the evening about his start in Hollywood as a cartoon character for a Hanna Barbara show. Could breaking into the business get any better than that?

Tuesday night was Borders in Westwood, home of the amazing Lita Weissman, God's gift to writers. Betsy (of the Michael Connelly picture above) and Lita and my sons and I had breakfast at Juniors the next day. As we were leaving (after many eggs were consumed and/or thrown on the floor thanks to my 17 month old but I did leave a good tip, I remember being a waitress) we asked a woman to take a picture for us. She said sure, then promptly jumped into the photo and smiled. We said, Oh no, we were hoping you would take one of us. She looked confused, though not as much as we were as to why she would get in our picture, but she took the photo, then said goodbye. The valet - yes, this is LA, the deli's have valets - told us she was Fantasia from American Idol. I still don't know who she is, but I'm sure that has a lot more to do with my lack of TV time than hers.
Wednesday was Flint Ridge Books and Cafe in La Canada. I had
never heard of that town either. Now, I want to live there.
It was like stumbling upon a Ross
MacDonald novel without the murder. Total Southern California
circa 1950. I've been wanting to retire to Malibu in 1975, but since that isn't possible, maybe I can get my husband for us to move there instead.

Thursday I called in to do a radio interview with WWNO in New Orleans, then that night, Vroman's. Here I am signing a book in their office before the event. Yes, I did wear the same outfit two nights in a row. But it was only a few hours each night, so I figure combined together, they made up only one day. Sort of.

Friday, we flew to Louisiana.
As the plane left LAX, and flew out over the ocean to turn around, my 4 year old asked me what river that was. I told him it wasn't a river, it was the
Pacific Ocean. He said, "The suspicious
ocean?" I told him no, but really wanted to say yes.
We got to Baton Rouge, where it is over 90 degrees plus 95 % humidity - welcome home! I keep asking my family and friends if it was this hot when we were growing up. Either it wasn't, or I have been up north too long. I drove straight to NO to tape a TV interview (check that out here), then woke at 6 to call in to do a TV interview over the phone for a morning news show in Lafayette called Passe Partout (I love being home! Where else in the US would a news show have that name??) then later drove to Lafayette to do an event at the Museum at USL.
I got to see lots of old family friends and cousins I'd never met and meet new people - great fun.
It rained on the way home over the Atchafalaya Basin. It was a lot more beautiful than this picture, but here's a small taste of that.

Today, I did a reading at the Baton Rouge Art Gallery. I'm so happy to be back in the South where people dress up and wear hats. More soon.
xo

1st Stop: Portland, Oregon

2008-05-24T21:41:00.000-07:00

So, we got into Portland at 11:00 PM or 2 Am NY time on Friday. Didn't get to sleep until 2 (or 5 am NY time), having been awake for 23 hours. My one year old woke up four hours later. Needless to say, yesterday was all about trying to feel like a human until I could go to sleep. We are here for a family event for my husband's family, and then my book tour kicks off here on Tuesday, the day my book comes out, at Borders Beaverton. It hardly feels real. The rest of my husband's family is staying at a hotel on the river, but all I could think about for the past few weeks was me and my husband in a hotel room with no kitchen and our 2 small children, so I fled to Craigs list and found this:
It is a very sweet little house in
Sellwood a wonderful, historic, pseudo-Melrose-but-not-goth section of Portland.
The bed is dreamy, and our sons have their own room. And the kitchen is great. The owner of the house even went grocery shopping for me before we arrived - is that heaven, or what? and half the price of the hotel. My four year old looked at me tonight and said,
"Momma, this house is small, but it is soooo beautiful."
Though I think that had more to do with what we found waiting for him in the living room:
Legos! A whole huge box of them! Both boys were entranced for hours. Okay, minutes, but still. It was many long minutes.
My in-laws are in from Boca; the whole family is here. My mother-in-law came by our place yesterday and brought us a chicken. That she cooked. In Florida. As my husband said, that bird flew more than most birds migrate. The worst part is that it is still in the frig, in case she comes by. I can't tell her I threw it out because it went bad. If she'd believe that, she wouldn't have brought it on the plane. I was tempted to get some yellow hazard tape to put around it, but my 4 year old is into work sites, so that would just make it more appealing. I don't even want to know if she checked it or if it went carry on. It gives a whole new meaning to the term "to go." But really,
But anyway, enough about being benignly poisoned by my mother-in-law, I just got some radio interviews about my book added, and more tour dates are happening, so check out my schedule on my website and come say hey!! Happy Memorial day weekend.
xo

Off We Go

2008-05-22T12:06:00.001-07:00

Hey y'all
so the car for JFK comes in less than an hour, and I think we're ready. We have a family event weekend in Portland and then my book tour starts there on Tuesday, May 27th, the day my new book comes out. How is it already here ? Isn't it still February? I think someone turned up the speed on the time dial while I wasn't looking. I packed for myself and my two sons today. And I'm ready for my medal. Actually, the person who should get a medal is my four year old son who somehow was able to let go of the contents of the playroom and bring only one small suitcase of toys. I was looking at skirt after skirt on my bed, envision a life far more fabulous than my own, as if suddenly just by going into the air, I will wear outfits that I don't wear at home. Though I will be on the book tour, so I will be wearing clothes that aren't all about playing fire truck, but let's just say that I was having a harder time letting go of the contents of my closet than my four year old let who go of his fire trucks. Particularly difficult not to pack was a pair of shoes that I was sure were fabulous last summer, but I never wore once, then suddenly this morning, they were screaming to me that I really really would need them on this trip. I don't. They aren't coming. My sister came in - bless her, to do a last minute post office run for me, a true goddess! - and saw the bags and said, "That's all your taking?? Where are the clothes???" So that made me feel good. I am still bringing waaaaay too much, but oh well. Please come by while I'm on tour!! I'm going to lots of fun places and it'd be so nice to say hey! my tour is on my website. Okay, off to pack sippy cups, and my book to read from at the signings! Have a great holiday weekend. Summer is here!!
xox

What's in a Name?

2008-05-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

So, I had a Spoken Interludes the other night, and it was a great, fun night. On the morning of the show, I found out that Elizabeth Strout was sick, so had to cancel :( . So, I was trying to think of a writer that I could call who could jump in at the last minute and read, then suddenly I remembered that I'm a writer, and could read, so I grabbed my new book, The Safety of Secrets, that I just got from HarperCollins a few days before and took it with me to read from.
It is fun to hold the real thing in my hands. I love the cover, and the back is this really beautiful pink and green, but not preppy looking, just very beautiful. I'll get a picture of the back and put it up here. So anyway. I read first. I figured it was only polite of me to take the hardest spot. it was the first time I have read from the new book for a live crowd, so that was great fun.
Then Charles Bock read from Beautiful Children which was amazing, and hearing him read from it is every bit, if not more, wonderful than reading his words. When he finished, he did a literary trivia quiz and the prizes were two completely fab posters for his book that comic artists did for him. check one out here:
Isn't it great? The question for that one was: What book won the National Book Award in 1997? Hint, it was made into a film.
and the other question was which writer was in the movie "Drugstore Cowboy"?
That was such a fun part of the night that I am considering doing a literary jeopardy before the readings.what do y'all think??

then Jeff Gordinier read from his new book,
X Saves the World and read a section about hearing Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit which afterwards I turned to my husband and was like, okay, which song was that one? Because I love Nirvana, but never really knew what any of the songs were called. I was totally shocked when he hummed it for me. anyway. maybe I'm a bad gen X-er.
And last but very not least, AJ Jacobs took the stage, and that is the only way to describe it. Okay, this guy is hysterical. If you haven't read The Year of Living Biblically yet, get it!!
We were all double over laughing so hard. he read the section about when he has to stone an adulterer, and it is just beyond hilarious.
Okay, so quick back story, in the section that I read from my book, Fiona, the main character, is talking about her best friend's new boyfriend, Zane, who she doesn't really like, and she has this little inner monologue about him. "Zane. Whenever I hear the name of Patricia’s boyfriend of six months, I imagine some woman in a lonely rural town stuck with dusty old videos of “Shane” and “Zorro” to get her through her pregnancy, then in the delirium of her labor, naming her child Zane in deference to them. In reality, he was probably named Jim." So after AJ reads and he's talking about the year that he wrote his book, and during that year, he and his wife followed the biblical law of being fruitful and multiplying, and he say, "oh and by the way, one of my twin sons' name is Zane." So we were all laughing about that, though I did feel bad since I had just bashed it from the podium, not that he cared, and he reassured me of that in an email the next day, after I wrote him that I really did actually like the name, but how odd a coincidence is that?especially since I wasn't even supposed to read that night. and then I realized later, that another character in the book has the same name as one of Jeff's kids(and it is not a terribly common name) which didn't hit me until then. so now I'm wondering that if Charles has kids (or when if he doesn't) if one of them is destined for one of those names, too. anyway.
xo
oh, the answer to the first is Cold Mountain and the second is William Burroughs.

High School & Zepplin

2008-05-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all
So yesterday, I drove to a high school in NJ, in this interesting little part right across from Staten Island - who knew? My geography of the Yankee states is so bad. Of course, when I first moved to NY at 18, and would go for a daily run in Riverside Park, and would see NJ across the Hudson, I thought it was Manhattan curving back on itself. Even my mind boggles at that one. Anyway, I went down to do two writing workshops for the students at Middlesex County Vo-Tech High School - Perth Amboy Campus. Check out part of my group here:

They were so fun! And sweet. These are the seniors, the juniors ands sophomores aren't in the picture. The woman on the far right is Dagmar Finkle, the librarian for the school. I met her at the ALA conference in January, and we connected about me bringing a workshop version of Spoken Interludes Next writing program to her students. She made the day so wonderful, and the kids were an amazing, very bright group.

As we were getting ready for the photo, I told the boy on the left (he's wearing a Led Zepplin t-shirt, but it's hard to tell) that I love Led Zepplin and was listening to them on my drive down.
He said, "So was I on the way to school!"
I said, "What's your favorite album?"
He said, "I don't know albums."
And I was like, "Oh, right."
"But I love the Immigrant Song," he said.
So I told him the other songs off that album to get. He looked completely shocked that I could list them by heart. And maybe I should be, too.
After the workshops, Dagmar took me up to the Culinary Arts shop where the students had made a special lunch of lobster bisque and shrimp scampi, and julienned carrots, and tons of other amazing stuff. My tummy was so happy. It was a wonderful day. And I got to have another nice long drive at the end with more Led Zepplin.
xo