jennsylvania

Move Over, Tucker Max (NOW UPDATED WITH ACTUAL PUBLISHING ADVICE)

You know what? 

I try really hard not to be an asshole.

Seriously, I do. 

I realize it's difficult to tell around here sometimes, but it's the truth.  Yet sometimes... I... I just can't help myself. 

Today is one of those days.

Following you'll find an email from Shelly.  She sent me a number of questions which may have been appropriate if I were being interviewed by, say, a fifteen year old for her high school newspaper.  But from what I can tell, this comes from someone who doesn't comprehend that one should spend more than the time it takes to look up an email address before asking a complete stranger for professional guidance, particularly one who will absolutely respond with mockery if properly provoked.

Anyway, I'm posting the note below (because I'm an asshole) and my responses are in italics.

Hi, my name is Shelly and I’m currently working on my first novel.  Writing a novel has always been a dream of mine, but I’m pretty nervous and worried that I’m going to fail.  I was hoping that you would answer the following questions for me, to help me get started?

 

1.    How do you develop your characters?  Are they people you know? 

 

I write nonfiction which seems like it would be obvious by the word “memoir” on the cover of each of my books, but apparently not.  Since I write about real people, the characters pretty much develop themselves.

 

2.    How do you come up with their names?  

 

Really, most of the credit goes to their parents. 

 

3.    Did you have any formal training in order to become a writer? Classes? A degree?  

 

Yes. 

 

4.    How do you get ideas for stories?  

  

How do you not get ideas for stories?  

 

5.    What do you consider the most important principle of fiction? 

 

This is something I’ve never thought about considering I don’t write fiction.

 

6.    How do you, when writing dialogue, make sure that each character sounds like a unique person?  

 

I, when writing dialogue, try to phrase things in a way that sounds completely natural.  Because who wouldn’t, when writing dialogue, not try to make conversations sound conversational? Again, when writing dialogue, it’s easier to make unique individuals sound like unique individuals when they are unique individuals.  When writing dialogue. 

 

7.    How do you set up your books?  Do you outline them first or do you have an idea and just go with it? 

 

From tallest to shortest, left to right, with a heavy bookend butted up against the small end. 

Oh, wait.  I answered that before I read the whole question. 

 

I find ideas overrated.  Outlines, too.

 

8.    How do you decide how long a book should be?  

 

Well, I certainly wouldn’t spend ten seconds Googling "how long is a novel?" to find out what the industry standard is.  Instead, I'd email John Grisham. 

 

9.    How do you decide on a title for your book?  

 

Scotch. 

 

10. How do I go about getting an agent?  Where do I look for one? 

 

Obviously you look for one by asking me.  (I keep them in my guest room.)  

 

11. How do I know which agent is best for me? 

 

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this probably won’t be an issue.

 

12. How much should I expect to pay an agent to represent my book? 

 

You should pay them whatever they ask, because, again, a ten second Google search on "how much do I pay a literary agent?" wouldn’t reveal that an agent works for you and only gets paid once you sell your writing.

13. Will an agent expect me to sign a contract?  Should I sign one?  

 

Yes, in blood.  Yes, right before you give them a blank check. 

 

14. How & why did you become a writer? 

 

Because I wanted to bring back the ampersand.

 

15. Does this process ever get easier? 

 

No.

 

16. Have you ever doubted yourself while writing?  If so, how do you get over it?  

 

Yes.  Scotch. 

 

17. What should my manuscript look like? 

 

Um, about 6’2”, dark, neatly trimmed hair, well polished shoes, and eyes that crinkle when he smiles. 

 

Shit, I just described my husband. 

 

I guess I don't understand the question.

 

18. How long did it take to publish your first book? 

 

I certainly never mention this in any of the books I’ve written so it must be that I don’t know the answer. 

 

19. Do you typically do a lot of research for your books? 

 

Typically.

 

20. What is the hardest part of writing for you?  The easiest?  

 

The hardest part is trying not to be an asshole when people send asinine emails.  The easiest is cashing checks. 

 

21. Do you have any favorite authors?  Books?  

 

Pfft, writers don’t read.  And if they did, they certainly wouldn't detail all the stuff they loved on their website and in their books. 

 

22. I’m pretty nervous about writing my book and trying to get it published.  I guess I don’t have much for self-confidence when it comes to this.  Do you have any advice? 

 

Scotch.

 

FYI, I didn't send this to her, tempting though it was.

 

Instead, I emailed this reply:

 

"Shelly, this is not how you become a writer."

 

Asshole.

 

EDITED TO ADD:

 

It's not that I won't help other writers; it's that I won't help idiots. 

 

After the break, see the business-centric publishing advice I just sent to someone who demonstrated she was actually serious about being a writer.

I Should Probably Mention This Today, Too

You know how sometimes I don't post for a few weeks and when I finally do come back online, it's either a grainy dog picture or some lame excuse about being busy and you'd bet the farm that not only was I NOT busy, but in fact had been been parked in front of the big TV in the basement watching the entire first season of Burn Notice again and again?

Usually you'd win that bet... but not today.

From the February 16th issue of Publishers Weekly:

Jen Lancaster has signed a major deal for two more books with Kara Cesareat NAL via Kate Garrickat DeFiore & Co. In the first book, tentatively titled My Fair Lazy, Lancaster gives herself the Pygmalion treatment, researching literature and studying etiquette; pub date will be May 2010. A year later, the tentatively titled Involuntary: My Year of Giving Dangerouslywill detail Lancaster's work with various charitable organizations. Since 2006, Lancaster has published one book a year with NAL, and the first three each have more than 100,000 copies in print. NAL will pub Lancaster's fourth memoir, Pretty in Plaid, in May.

I'll explain more details as the projects unfold and will probably seek some assistance for those who are experts in various disciplines.  But for the moment, if you like me and if you're given to squealing, now would be an excellent time to do so.

"Yes, yes, we're all terribly impressed.  Now serve me breakfast or something very bad is going to happen."

Big Willie, Style

Last Friday I was in the Admirals Club at O'Hare, freaking out over giving a keynote address, eating breakfast, and glowering at these two:

 

Not pictured?  Acres of freckled cleavage and handbags that cost more than my first year of college. 

I tried to be all stealthy, holding my BlackBerry in one hand and my coffee in the other, so the shot's not terribly clear.  I'd hoped to capture the fact that it was 7:30 AM and these two Real Housewife-types were splitting a bottle of wine. 

And because it bears repeating, it was 7:30 AM and they were drinking a whole bottle of wine.

Appalling.

Delighted to have someone to judge so I could be distracted from my speech-giving panic, I happily took my flight down to Nashville for the BlissDom 09 conference.

By the way, how do you know you're in Nashville?  Because this is the art you'll find on your hotel room wall:

Willie almost looks like a religious icon here, doesn't he?  Which is why I started calling this picture, "Jesus, The Outlaw Years." (And yes, his eyes followed me, prompting me to change in the bathroom.)

As much as I laughed at the art initially, I figured with Willie on my wall, I couldn't NOT have fun at this thing.  He's like the patron saint of good times, you know?  I guarantee it's a party when Willie shows up.  I gazed into his soulful eyes and I could almost feel Him willing me to unclench. 

Basking in His heavenly presence - or perhaps in His residual contact buzz - I joined the other attendees, where I immediately met my evil twin.  While everyone else ate lunch, she, too, thought it was a grand idea to begin swilling vodka.  With our sippy cups full of Absolut Cape Cods, what would have been interesting and informative panels became THE BEST SESSIONS EVER.

Normally, this is the point in the day/story when I'd earn myself a stern lecture for ducking out to get more drinks.  But because the benevolent Saint Willie was smiling down upon me, I have to believe what happened next was nothing short of miraculous.

I'd just sneaked up to room 704 for another round when divine inspiration told me to turn on my phone.  I'd switched if off hours before when the sessions started.  (Drunk?  Perhaps.  Rude?  Never.)  As soon as I did, I received a number of increasingly panicked messages from my entire publishing team to call The New York Times.

Apparently a reporter was doing an article on the Shopaholic book and movie and wondered if I might have a moment to share an opinion.

Did I have an opinion?

To share with the Times? 

In an article about that which is my all time favorite book?

Which then Sophie Kinsella might read and thus know I exist?

Yeah, I was pretty sure I did. 

(Granted, having a drunken interview is more Bridget Jones and less Becky Bloomwood, but it still counts.)

The reporter asked me questions about books and shoes and he told me about shopping with Sophie herself, all while I sipped pink drinks. 

I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn't Heaven; it was Nashville. 

Anyway, the article came out today in the Styles section and you can read it here.  The Times even included my book title! 

* * *

As I staggered up to my room last Friday to pass out after an entire day spent woofing down drinks, I realized that the only thing that separated me from those women in the Admirals Club was an Egg McMuffin.

Well... that and Saint Willie.  Praise be!

(P.S.  I was sober Saturday and my speech went fine.)

Feeling Minnesota

NOTE:  THE MINNEAPOLIS PAPER HAD THE SIGNING TIME WRONG - IT'S DEFINITELY AT 7:00 PM!

* * *

I'm going back out on the road in a few hours.  But before I go, I had to post this line from a note I got from my friend Shayla in Minneapolis:

Since you'll doubtless be surrounded by gushing adoring fans, I can also serve as the voice of reason who reminds you of the time that you got into a drunken argument with a homeless guy outside the Sears Tower (after leaving the Metropolitan Club) about his insistence that he needed $7, a figure you found to be too large, arbitrary and random and therefore worthy of argument.

I totally forgot the incident and thus have been giggling all day.

Hey, I told you guys I used to be an asshole. 

You Must Read This (Phoenix)

NOT MILKING IT

Usually when I put up blog posts, I save the big news for last.  Am kind of shameless in regards to the concept of Milking It.  (Sometimes I Milk It so much that readers lose interest and often miss big announcements like the sale of books and such.) 

Regardless, this is just too cool, so here goes:

I'm going to be on NPR today!  You can check it out here. 

The piece I'm doing is called You Must Read This and I talk about a book that had an impact on my life.  The audio portion will be available after 7:00 PM today OR you can just tune to your local NPR affiliate and hear me read it yourself at the tail end of All Things Considered.  (Around 5:55 PM EST, but will vary depending on your affiliate time zone.  Find your local station here.)

Being on NPR almost makes me feel like a legitimate writer, and not just someone who tells stories about getting high on Ambien and ordering Barbie heads on the internet.

Then I remember I likely won't get to hear the piece live because I'll be at my friend's dog's birthday party. 

So there's that.

UPDATE: The piece got bumped to this weekend because Tim Russert died. I loved Tim Russert and I just feel sick now.

* * *

HOT ENOUGH TO FRY AN EGG, HOT ENOUGH TO BAKE YOUR DOG'S BRAIN*

Phoenix fans, I'm coming to see you on Tuesday! 

Specifically, I'm going to be at:

Barnes & Noble, 21001 N. Tatum, Phoenix, AZ, 7:00 PM

Many of you have said no one comes to Phoenix in the summer. 

We're finding this to be true NOT because of the heat, but because of the airlines. 

I have to go to Denver later Tuesday night because of a morning TV appearance and the only available flight leaves at 9:49 PM.  This means I have to get out of there not one minute later than 8:15 PM. 

I wish I had more time to spend with you guys.  My publicist has been trying to find an alternative for days but there's simply nothing else. 

Here's how we're going to work around this - I'll get to the event around 6:00 PM to pre-sign books, take pictures, and generally hang out.  Normally the reading/Q&A session lasts about forty-five minutes, so I promise if you come, you'll get the whole "experience."  (Plus with the heat and the pressure of getting to the airport on time, I'll be extra-sweaty and stammer-y.  That's a bonus, yes?)  I'll also bring and sign book plates for you guys to stick in the copies you already own and brought to get signed, just in case I can't hit all of them.

Cool?

Cool.

* Do you guys remember that PSA from the 80's?  No?  Just me then.

* * *

TRAVELIN'

Finally, here's where I'll be for the next two weeks:

Weds., June 18 - Tune in to KWGN TV, the CW Morning News, some time around 7:45 AM, (I think?)   

Weds., June 18 - Tattered Cover, Highlands Ranch, CO, 7:30 PM.  (BTW, Denver - you won't be exempt from sweating and stammering because I've got to get out of there by 9:30 because I have to get up at 3:30 AM the next morning as my publicist is clearly in league with the devil.)

Thurs., June 19 - KARE TV, Showcase Minnesota, on (I think) right before 11:00 AM?

(I normally don't post radio/TV stuff because I'm pretty sure I make an ass out of myself in each instance, but since these impact the amount of time I can spend at events, I kind of have to mention them.)

Thurs., June 19 - Borders Books & Music, Rosedale Center, Roseville, MN, 7:00 PM.

Weds., June 25 - Borders Books & Music, 511 Boylston Street, Boston, MA, 6:00 PM.  (This will be extra-fun since I'll have lots of family there.  Please note again it's at 6:00 PM.  And maybe remind me, too, because my events are usually later.)

Thurs., June 26 - Panic because I have so damn much new book to finish writing before September 1.

You know what?  I might just start panicking now.

A Repeat Twice, Plus One

You know what they call the guy who graduates last in his class at medical school?

DOCTOR

And on that note, guess who just found out she came in at number twenty on the New York Times Best Selling list, 6/22/08 edition?

That's right... it's Dr. Lancaster.

"Jen Lancaster Would Make A Shitty Diet Coach"

This?

KICKS SO MUCH ASS.

Such A Pretty Who?

This morning, I imagine thousands of intellectuals are opening The Paper of Record to peruse the book review section, as they do every Sunday.  I can picture them sipping gourmet coffee in their well-appointed living rooms, scanning the best seller pages and nodding in tacit agreement as they recall why they loved each of the listed books so much.

"Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love is a spiritual awakening!" 

"Grogan's Marley and Me is just heartbreakingly uplifting!"

"The Audacity of Hope by the future President Obama - what an inspiration!"

"The God Delusion - that Dawkins is so thought-provoking!"

"McCullough's John Adams proves what a visionary he was, while still being human and accessible!"

"Walls is very brave to share her story in The Glass Castle!"

Then they get to the book making its debut at number twenty on the list.

"Such A Pretty... um, wait a second... who the hell is Jen Lancaster?"

For those who've never heard of me, I'm a fat chick with high self esteem who wrote a book about being a fat chick with high self-esteem.  The book ends with me being slightly less fat and slightly more healthy (with the same amount of self-esteem.)

And no, I don't build schools in rural Afghanistan or leave behind the shackles of man to live in the wilderness, nor do I offer an intricate study of social epidemics or describe the experience of dying and crossing over to the other side.

But I do write about accidentally getting high on Ambien and ordering a Barbie head on the internet. 

So there's that.

"Frankly, we're as surprised about all of this as you are."

No Title Can Accurately Sum This Up

Um, you guys?

I just spent an hour drinking wine out of a paper cup with CANDACE MOTHERFUCKING BUSHNELL.

(Also? SHE READ MY BOOK!!)

As for details, Candace was gracious enough to have me on her Sirius radio show. I didn't want to say anything about it earlier as not to jinx it.

A couple of things to note here:

A) Candace is STUNNING.

B) Candace is unbelievably nice.

As soon as I stopped stammering and sweating at her, we totally had a normal conversation.

If you're interested in hearing it, check out Sirius's website for show repeats. (Also, it may be streamed online - not sure of details, though.)

OK, heading to Philly in a total starstruck haze now...

Seacrest out.

Songs in the Key of Holy Shit!

I just ran into Stevie Wonder in the Admiral's Club!

(Was too chickenshit to ask him for a photo OR beg him never to let Idol contestants sing his songs again.)

(Shameful.)

Road Warrior

Thanks to everyone who came out last night! For those of you who were there, I feel like I should explain the hair and make up. Since it was a special occassion,I wanted to look pretty so I had "professionals" help.

Did you notice the extra quotation marks above? (Just making sure ironic punctuation comes across on a BlackBerry.)

Anyway, I asked for a loose, casual, messy up-do. They heard, "Please turn my hair into a giant, inpenatrable hair bullet."

As for the makeup, I asked for something light and polished. They heard, "I would like to look like a Russian figure skater."

I said I liked pink shadow. They heard, "I would like seven shades of sparkly lavender eye shadow. And boob glitter. Lots and lots of boob glitter."

For those coming to the reading tonight, I promise I won't look like a Russian mobster's girlfriend.

(I hope.)

P.S. A full tour schedule is posted in my appearances link. See you soon?)

A Big, Fat, Self-Indulgent Whew

In case I hadn't yet mentioned it, the new book comes out tomorrow.   

That is, tomorrow is the official release date, although it sounds like some of you got yours early.  Sometimes bookstores put new releases out when they receive them, rather than the release date, and this fact makes both my editor and agent twitchy. 

From a publishing standpoint, I understand it's important to wait until the proper release date because then all the first week's numbers are reported together.  (It's kind of the same phenomenon as how an opening weekend at the box office determines the film's success.)  But from a reader's standpoint, if there's an author I dig and the book is on the front table prior to the official date, I don't care because I want to buy it NOW NOW NOW. 

For those of you who've already got it, I hope you liked it!  And for those who are still waiting, thank you for your patience and I hope you will like it when it arrives.

Anyway, it's always such a relief when the new book is finally, officially on shelves and I'm very excited for tomorrow.  Because that means I can begin to freak out about other stuff, like having to take thirteen flights in sixteen days and losing my luggage and how I'm going to take out a terrorist with nothing but a sharpened lipliner and some strategically applied kitten-heeled kicks which I can totally do because of all my new-found strongs and remembering to TiVo the important stuff because there's no way Fletch will willingly press record on Farmer Wants a Wife and if I'm going to accidentally drop an F-bomb on a morning show and stammering and sweating Chardonnay and if my dresses look cute (wait, of course they look cute) and whether or not critics will actually like what I've written. 

Fortunately, the first couple of media reviews are in and they are happy-making, so I'm posting them below.

From The Chicago Sun Times, by Tammy Chase

Believe it or not, losing weight can actually be a laugh riot

On the thoroughly covered-to-death topic of losing weight, consistent themes run through stories in books and women's magazines: will power, struggle, self-deprivation, rising above the odds and, oh, yes, misery. In other words, losing weight must be A Giant Sucky Experience.

Losing weight is the theme of Chicago author Jen Lancaster's third memoir, Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover If Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big or Why Pie Is Not the Answer (New American Library, $14, 380 pages). Lancaster, 40, is the very funny author of the memoirs Bitter Is the New Black and Bright Lights and Big Ass. In Such a Pretty Fat, she mercifully infuses much-needed humor into the life-altering process. "What good is finally being able to afford a pedicure if I lose a foot to adult-onset diabetes?" she asks.

Refreshingly, Jen isn't self-loathing. She loves how she looks -- perfectly highlighted hair, well-applied makeup, her signature pearls. She unabashedly loves food. "What gets me is the 'pretty face' bit. 'Cause I won't mind being reminded I'm fat as long as you water it down first," she writes. In a mortifying restaurant experience, "my ass knocks over someone's wineglass, like, four tables away."

After a run at the Atkins diet, the food lover endures pre-packaged meals from Jenny Craig and moves on to Weight Watchers -- which takes off more pounds, though a meeting attended by people who use terms like "emotional baker" nearly make her burst out laughing. She signs up with a personal trainer named Barbie -- who apparently looks like a Barbie -- for 40-plus sessions of torture.

Victory comes haltingly at first, but it's clear she's a heroine in the War on Fat, down about 40 pounds at one point. The first time she gets the courage to go from walking a treadmill to running, "Every single bone in my body is jarred. My knees in particular are screaming and need to be iced, like, right this second," she writes. "Yet I don't care. Because I ran."

Lancaster reminds us to laugh during laps and while counting food points on the way to a healthier size and lifestyle.

From Publisher's Weekly

A surprisingly charming weight-loss odyssey, Lancaster’s third weight-centric memoir (after Bitter is the New Black and Bright Lights, Big Ass) tells the story of her struggle to drop the ice cream and step away. Though morbidly obese, with a worried doctor hovering anxiously, Lancaster is blithely casual and never feels sorry for herself: “I’m a hundred pounds heavier than I was in high school, my veins are full of crème fraîche, and yet I look in the mirror, take in the hair and makeup, and think, Damn baby, you fiiine.” Still, at the end of her thirties, she knows she needs to lose weight—mostly to stay healthy, but also because she can’t face the shame of having to buy an extra seat on an airplane. While the first chapter is full of chatty asides and aren’t-I-cute footnotes which can grate, Lancaster relaxes into her journey through Atkins dinners, Jenny Craig coaches, Weight Watchers meetings and bouts of personal training with the winning honesty and humor her fans have come to expect. Anyone struggling with weight issues while trying to maintain a sense of humor (if not necessarily a positive outlook) will find much inspiration, and plenty of laughs, in Lancaster.

WHEW!

Now I'm off to pack some dresses and sharpen some lipliners.

The Eyes of Minnesota Are Upon You

If I promise to put up a real, has-nothing-to-do-with-pimping-my-own-book related post later today, will you guys help me out for a minute?

We're at the tail end of figuring how everything's going to work for my book tour, nailing down specs on events, TV and radio spots, print mentions, flights, cars, etc.  And by "we," I mean Mary Ann, my long-suffering publicist who is also obligated to field my random, asinine calls about reality television in the middle of all of this, e.g. "Hey, did you catch last night's episode of The Bad Girls' Club?  I totally heart Tanisha." 

(BTW, the job I've assigned myself is to make sure I have sufficient supply of pretty summer dresses.) 

(Check!) 

My dress purchasing has gone swimmingly and most of my favorite shows are about to wrap for the season, so I'm now free to obsess on new things, e.g. finding severed heads in the toilet, catching the plague from the neighborhood rats, and wondering how I'd groom myself if I ever went blind.  (Once in a while I'll practice doing my hair and/or makeup with my eyes closed just to see if I'd be up for the task.) 

(I can't be the only one who's ever tried this.  But for those who haven't, I am sorry for your woeful lack of preparation, particularly now during the height of April-showers-umbrella-eye-poke season.)

Since it's not my nature to worry about stupid shit alone, yesterday I decided to call Mary Ann.  "Hey, it's Jen!  How are you?  Hey, listen, I know you're swamped, but I have a couple things on my mind - first, did you see Jason Castro's performance on Idol last night?  Listen up, jackass - when arguably the most famous and prolific composer of our time gives you notes on how to sing his song, MAYBE YOU SHOULD FUCKING LISTEN.  Oh, also, what would happen if I had all these events and no one came?"

Note to self:  Do NOT do that again. 

Buying Mary Ann a pretty summer dress isn't going to stop her from wanting to murder me. 

What might get me out of trouble is to assure her that yes, you guys will be there.  Seriously, if I'm ever going to be allowed to tour again, people have to come to events.  The upside for you is I promise to swear and sweat Chardonnay and blather on about totally inappropriate topics.  (Last year in Philadelphia I was obsessed with Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch.  Half the crowd were also fans of the show and they dug the discussion - the other half were all, "When the fuck was she a professional crab fisherman?") 

Anyway, if you're vacillating about attendance, I'm asking you nicely to Choose Jen.  (Also, we haven't got a date set for the Minneapolis reading yet.  I'm worried if the tour doesn't go well, then I won't be sent up there.  So, you know, no pressure or anything.)   

If you're already in, can you please give me a quick shout out in the comments section about where I'll see you?

Thank you in advance for keeping Mary Ann from gutting me like a trout.

(Or a cod.) 

(Which is what they use to bait the pots when fishing for Alaskan King crab.)

(And also Opilio.)

(It's a really good show.)

Such a Pretty Contest

I'm too sick to be creative today (Pan Asian Death Flu) (or possibly just a bad cold) so I'm going right to the point.

I'm giving away two autographed advanced copies of the new book, one to Jennsylvania.com readers and one to my MySpace friends.  To be eligible to win, tell me your best (or worst) weight loss/diet tale.  Your essay can be funny, sad, poignant, motivational - really, whatever you want to write.  I don't care if a version of the story already appeared on your blog; as long as it's your original work, it's eligible. 

Rules:

1)  Use 500 words or less.  (Sorry, I don't actually have the time to read your whole manuscript.)

2)  Post your story in the comments section of Jennsylvania.com or my MySpace blog.  You may only enter in one place or the other.

3)  If you have a problem getting your comments to post (my SPAM filter tends to operate autonomously) then send me your story in the body of an email, NOT an attachment.  Emails with attachments will be deleted without being opened, but not before being mocked.

4)  You have until 1:00 PM CST on Friday to enter.  Winners will be determined by me and announced on Monday.

5)  My friend Jolene Siana is not eligible to enter because I already have a book for her and she just has to send me her most recent address because I didn't copy it off the envelope because I'm lazy sick.

6)  If you don't have a best (or worst) weight loss/diet story because you've never struggled with your weight, then your fortunate genetics and willpower are already prize enough.

7)  Void where prohibited by law, rules subject to change upon my whim, no deposit, no return, etc.

Ready, set... go! 

Bringing Splendid Back

I never hear the word "splendid" anymore and that's a damn shame because it's such an evocative term.  "Splendid" is one of the best words to use in setting a mood and I have no idea why it's gone out of style. 

For example, as the ability to make polite small talk completely alludes me, I'm only going to bother to ask you how your weekend was when I actually care about your response.  So when you reply with a bullshit throw-away term like "good" or "fine," I have no clue as to the quality of your Saturday or Sunday and it bothers me. 

Does saying your weekend was "fine" mean you went out for a lovely dinner and you found three pairs of Via Spigas marked down to nothing at Nordstrom Rack and when you got home you watched Matt Damon movies on the big screen while eating a Barcelona bar?

Or was your weekend "good," which could very well imply the highlight was when you chased hipsters off your lawn with the same shovel you'd used to address Mt. Doody in the backyard hours earlier?

Who can tell?  Certainly not me. 

But if you were to reply, "Jen, my weekend was splendid!" then the movies and candy and shoes would be implied and I'd be happy for you.

Oh, splendid... splendid... where for art thou, splendid?  Did that fake sugar steal all your thunder?  Or have you been going the of the dinosaur because kids have no idea how to shorten "splendid" into LolcatTextySpeak?

Well, listen up, splendid - I'm not going to let you go quietly into that goodnight.  I pledge to help preserve your legacy in print.  I promise to use you when I write my next book. 

And you know what? 

This might be an appropriate place to mention the announcement that came out in Publisher's Weekly today:

Blogger Jen Lancaster (jennsylvania.com) has made a deal with Kara Cesare at NAL for a fourth memoir, Pretty in Plaid, via Kate Garrick at DeFiore & Co. Since 2006, Lancaster has published one book a year with NAL; the first two, Bitter Is the New Black and Bright Lights, Big Ass have almost 200,000 copies in print. Her third memoir, Such a Pretty Fat, hits stores this May. Pub date for Pretty, to be the prequel to Bitter, is summer 2009.

I've been telling people Pretty in Plaid is a memoir about being a socially awkward 'tween, privately summing it up as The Book in Which I Go David Sedaris All Over Your Asses - but the Publisher's Weekly description is nice, too...

Possibly even splendid.

Jennsylvania, effectively burying the lede since 2005.