jennsylvania

Team Edward, Team Jacob, Or Team Take Your Pants Off?

For those of you who wonder if I'll cover Eclipse, the answer is yes.

For those of you who wonder what that means, I'll refer you to the New Moon post. 

For those of you who've seen that post and still wonder why I'm doing this, well... let's just say it beats working for a living. 

So, without further delay, I give you Eclipse: The Jennsylvania Edition.

* * *

Bella and Edward:  Yay!  We're reunited!

Bella:  "Edward!  I totally love you in a non-platonic sense!  Let's celebrate our romance in an, ahem, traditional way, if you know what I mean."

Edward:  "Yes!  I'm absolutely on the same page!  Marriage it is!"

Bella:  "Argh.  Then can you please at least compliment me on my rack?"

Edward:  "Certainly.  Your rack is fantastic.  Are those two kinds of oregano I spy?"

Bella:  "Sigh.  In unrelated news, what up with the big pile of dead folk in Seattle, homie?"

Edward:  "I know, right?  Totes creepy."

Bella:  "My dad says it's the work of a..."

Bella:  "... cereal killer."

Alice, Edward, and Bella:  "Seriously?  We're just plastic action figures and even we can manage to look disgusted with your stupid pun, Jen."

Me:  "I'm sorry.  I had three Mai-tais at lunch today and it seemed funny to me."

Bella:  "Shouldn't we be getting back to my tortured love life?  We need to move this along if I'm ever getting the pants off that foppish Brit."

Me:  "I'm on it.  By the way, a bunch of brand new vampires killed all those guys."

Bella:  "Oh, I'm sorry - are YOU now Stephenie Meyer?  'Cause your checking account doesn't seem to think so.  Piss off."

Me:  "Okay, okay.  I'm going."

Edward:  "No!  I won't let you associate with the wolf-boy!"

Bella:  "Please?"

Edward:  "Nope."

Bella:  "Pretty please?"

Edward:  "No freaking way."

Bella:  "Pretty please with hemoglobin on top?"

Edward:  "My resolve is as immobile as my pants."

Me:  "So, Bella, he not only breaks into your room and watches you sleep but also wants to dictate who your friends are?  Oh, honey... run." 

Bella:  "Why are you still here?"

Me:  "Because the man's over a hundred years old and you're a minor!  It's not only unnatural, but it's also a crime.  Oh, and speaking of statutory rape, can you possibly suggest that Jacob take off his shirt?  Not for me.  For America."

Bella:  "ANYWAY..."

Bella:  "I feel naughty sneaking away and riding motorcycles in the woods with you Jake!  Perhaps this will make Edward so mad he'll try to, ahem, spank me."

Jacob:  "FYI, I'm totally still a werewolf.  My Dirty Dancing jean shorts automatically come off when I phase."

Bella:  "Noted.  But keep your pants on, dude, I only like you as a friend.  I think."

Jacob: "Yet millions of cougars around the world would disagree."

Jacob:  "Team Jacob!"

Edward:  "Team Edward!"

Bella:  "Team I-Would-Be-the-Meat-in-this-Sandwich-If-It-Weren't-for-the-Damn-PG-13-Rating!  Oh, wait, was that out loud?"

Alice:  "Um, hello?  Do you horndogs need me to Mapquest your way back to the plot of this thing?"

Me:  "I can help."

Alice:  "What are you, the Greek chorus?"

Me:  "No, but I don't need to be Euripides to see Victoria's behind everything.  Also, since apparently it's not important to keep main characters consistent throughout the movie franchise, please note that the actress who was playing Victoria has been replaced..."

Me:  "... by Betty Draper."

Victoria:  "My husband Don Draper would first nail Bella, then he'd smoke, then he'd pay her five thousand dollars to go away."  

Me:  "Wrong show, sweetie."

Victoria:  "Oh, right.  My bad.  I guess I'll just raise an unholy army and off the bitch myself."

 
Bella:  "She's going to kill me before I ever get your pants off."

Edward:  "Not to worry, I'll fix everything."

Bella:  "Ooh, did you get us a room?"

Edward:  "Better - I enlisted the whole wolf pack to help us."

Bella:  "Aces."

Bella:  "If I get Lyme disease out here, you're in big trouble, mister."

Edward:  "We'll mask your scent with the wolf-boy's stink.  Victoria will never find you."

Jacob:  "Stink?  The makers of Axe Body Spray for Men beg to differ."

Edward:  "Whatevs.  Now go take Bella to a cold, cold mountaintop.  And try to keep your shirt on.  You're not stealing this movie from me, too."

Jacob:  "I promise nothing."

Jacob:  "I'll keep you warm, baby."

Bella:  "Well, since we're practically in Canada, it really wouldn't count, so..."

Edward:  "Hey!  Don't mind me!  I'll just freaking risk my afterlife while you may or may not make out with a dog!"

Victoria:  "Hey!  Edward!  Checkity-check it!  It's your reflection!  And I think I saw some hair gel behind that rooster cookie jar!"

Edward:  "The only thing I love more than gazing at my tousled locks is Bella.  Say good night, Betty.  I mean, Victoria.  Damn it, you're right, Jen - it IS confusing."

Me:  "I told you so."

Edward:  "Um, hi?  Kind of busy here."

Me:  "Right.  Have at it.  Sweep the leg, Johnny!" 

Edward:  "Victory!  And now, decapitation!"

Me:  "I paid seventy-four dollars for that doll.  Let's just say we beheaded her, alrighty?"

Edward:  "You, ma'am, are no Stephenie Meyer."

Me:  "Yeah, and yet I could write you into some really shitty fan fiction, so if you want to keep your virtue pal, you'll STFU."

Edward:  "Fine.  Are we done yet?"

Me:  "Almost."

 
Edward:  "Now there's nothing standing in the way of our wedding!!"

Bella:  "Yay."

Edward:  "You realize that means I'll take my pants off."

Bella:  "YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!OMG!!!1!!PONIES!!!ELEVENTY!!!1!!1WOOOOOOO!!!!  But wait... I wonder how Jake will feel about this?"

Edward:  "He's run away, so perhaps we'll never know..."

THE END

 

An Evening of Badassedness - UPDATED

Because I am essentially still a very lazy person, it's just now occurring to me that I should post this event information.

What:  An Evening of Badassedness.

What?:  Okay, it's technically An Evening with Jennifer Weiner and Jen Lancaster.

Really?  Jennifer Weiner?  May I Feel Free to Squeal Here?:  Absolutely, I know I did.

When:  Monday, July 26, 6:00 - 8:00 PM.

Where:  Stevenson High School's Performing Arts Center, 1 Stevenson Drive, Lincolnshire, IL.

Anything Else I Should Know?:  Yes, this is a ticketed event.  You have to either register at the Vernon Hills Public Library District website or call 847-634-3650.  And, prior to arriving at the Performing Arts Center, you must pick up your ticket for entry at the library.  (They'll be available at the Adult Services desk.)

That Sounds Like a Lot of Effort:  But it will be totally worth it for an evening of badassedness.

Too True.

Is That Everything?:  Oh, wait - books will be available for purchase on site by the Lake Forest Books.

So that's it!  Be there or be, um... whatever the opposite of badass is.

P.S.  Spellcheck just tried to change "badassedness" to "blessedness."  See?  Spellcheck knows EXACTLY how badass this is.

P.P.S.  All of which is to say CHICK LIT IS NOT DEAD.  And speaking of, the lovely ladies of chicklitisnotdead.com just posted five things you might not know about me.  Check it out!

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.

2010 (By Way Of 1962)

The very best summation of the new year comes from my friend Caprice Crane via Twitter on January 1st:

"So Chris Cornell tweeted that Soundgarden's getting back together.  There.  One day of 2010 kicked all of 2009's ass."

By the way, if you're local, Caprice is doing a reading/signing here in a couple of weeks!  She'll be at The Book Cellar on Saturday, January 16th at 7:00 PM.  She'll be talking about her book Family Affair, a funny, funny story about a divorcee suing for custody of her in-laws.  Love it, love her, and I'll be there in the front row swilling cocktails if you care to join.

Anyway, hope everyone had a terrific holiday!  (I'm speculating you're all lousy with resolutions if the empty bagged-salad shelves at Whole Foods are any indication.)  (And although I hate resolutions, good for you!  Enjoy your radicchio!)

Fletch was home for ten days - which is always fun - but we didn't go all crazy-holiday-drinking-season this year as he's still not 100% after surgery.  (He had his turbinates removed.)  (In theory, this is supposed to eliminate snoring.)  (Thus far, it's simply opened his nasal passages enough to really get some weight behind the sound.)

Because we weren't up for a bunch of parties and festive goings-on, we gave each other enjoy-at-home gifts like books and games.  For the past few years, everyone's been up our collective asses about not watching Mad Men, so I got Fletch the first season on disc.

Here's a quick FYI - if you've been told to curtail your drinking and smoking while you recover from nasal surgery, Mad Men is not the best show to watch.  I've never seen so goddammned much smoking in my life and that includes one awful night in my waitressing career when I had a table of twenty Japanese businessmen who'd light their next butt with the ember of the previous one.  The '60s must have smelled like one enormous ashtray.  Plus, it slays me how they smoked EVERYWHERE - at their desks, in meetings, while they're chewing, at the grocery store, in the elevator, and my favorite, right as they're going to sleep.  (I guess mattresses weren't flammable back then?)

And the drinking?  I'm no stranger to a glass of wine (or bottle of gin), but I wanted to check myself into Betty Ford just for having watched.  There's no point where the ad men aren't swilling something alcoholic, including the scene where the partners have to fire Joel Murray for drinking too much which they do while drinking before heading out for a night of more drinks.  I can't imagine how anyone got any business done back then.  I bet people who work in HR have to watch with their hands over their eyes. 

After the first few episodes, I decided I pretty much hated this show.  I mean, yes, the acting is top notch, the writing superb, and the set design/style beyond perfection, but I found myself thoroughly disliking every character.  I despised all the adultery and the blatant -isms (sex, race, etc.) and the quiet desperation of every character.  And whenever I finally began to feel empathy towards someone, they'd do something else contemptible.  Yet I spent thirty dollars on a Blue-Ray disc, so I was committed to finishing the season.

Long story short, in a week we worked our way through 26 episodes and the third season's loaded up on my iPod.  And I still hate everything about the show, but somehow I can't stop watching.  I've become fascinated by the stories and invested in all their lives, contemptible though they may be. 

The thing is, after spending a week immersed in a different decade, their differences seem less foreign.  Not everything about that period was terrible and unenlightened. 

Maybe despite all that decade's faults, I'd benefit from emulating their attention to social niceties. 

Maybe mid-century modern style isn't quite as hideous as I previously thought. 

And maybe, just maybe Brylcreem's due for a comeback. 

I'm pretty sure Fletch feels the same way, judging from last night's post on his Facebook page:

"Just finished watching two seasons of Mad Men. When I go back to work on Monday, I'm wearing a suit, bringing a bottle of scotch, and smoking in my cubicle. Jen has been instructed to pick me up by noon after I am inevitably fired."

So far he's good, but hey, they day's not over yet.

And the year has just begun.

I can't wait to see where 2010 takes us all.

(But hopefully it's to The Book Cellar on January 16th.)

The Kindle Is Not The Devil

At least not in my opinion.

Have a safe and happy New Year and I'll be back next week!

Book Mitzvah

I've been telling you guys about this for a year and today's finally the day!  So, I'm delighted to say that my good friend Danny Evans' book has finally been released!

 

Here's a quick synopsis of Danny's memoir:

MESHUGENAH [meh-shuh-geh-nuh] adjective

1. mad; crazy;
2. mentally deranged; demented; insane

[origin: 1892, from Heb. meshugga, part. of shagag "to go astray, wander." The adj. has forms meshugener, meshugenah before a noun]

In his early thirties, Danny Evans had it all—a hot wife, a new baby, and a steady advertising job. Then, in the span of one week, a series of inauspicious events plunged Evans into a crushing depression. At turns poignant and uproarious, RAGE AGAINST THE MESHUGENAH vividly traces Evans' journey through the minefield of mental illness from a modern man's point of view.

The stigma surrounding clinical depression is ominous enough to prevent many men from discussing it, but Evans (author of the wildly popular DadGoneMad.com) holds nothing back. Through his confrontations with sexual side effects, his self-medication with beer and porn, and even his private therapy sessions, Evans boldly details his odyssey to get back to being himself.

You can purchase your own copy here, here, here, here, or here.

His appearances begin tonight and if you'd like to hear him read from Rage and have your copy autographed, his tour schedule is here.

If you'd like to wish him a happy publication day, he's on Twitter @dadgonemad.

Finally, Danny, congratulations!  I'm so proud of you and this book.  You've worked your ass off to get to today - now it's time for you and your family to sit back and enjoy what you've accomplished.

Mazel tov! 

What WOULDN'T I Do?

What Would Jen Do?  She'd spend all afternoon yesterday giggling about your great answers!

As for today?  She'd announce a winner.

I told Eileen the honor of selecting the winning entry was up to her as it's her book that started this whole thing.  She picked the title of this post provided by Meg S. which is "What WOULDN'T I do?" because it make her laugh out loud.

However, there were so many clever entries that I've got a couple more books to award.  The other two go to Ilana S. Harten for "What Would Michael Westen do?" because I just watched a Burn Notice marathon this weekend and love him even more than Jack Bauer and also to Blu_Canary for the Roald Dahl answer because it was so unique. 

Honorable mentions (which means you get my undying admiration which is even better than a prize, yes?) go to entries on the Real Housewives, Michael Cera, Blair Warner, Christian Siriano, and Kevin Smith.

Meg S., Ilana, and Blu_Canary, please email me your addresses so I can send them.  (And ignore the auto-response.  I really do ready everything.)

Thanks to all of you!

Not Selling Out - GIVING OUT

I almost wrote "Not Selling Out - PUTTING OUT" as the title of this post because it made me giggle seeing how I'm twelve. 

However, I'm not technically putting anything out and instead am giving out copies of my friend Eileen Cook's new book What Would Emma Do?  

Eileen's the author of Unpredictable (which we all read and loved, yes?) and What Would Emma Do? is her first YA novel. 

From Amazon.com's description:

While juggling friendship issues (her best friend isn't speaking to her), a love triangle-turned-square (okay, maybe she shouldn't have kissed her best friend's boyfriend...but it was totally an accident!...sort of), and escalating mayhem in her small religious town (uh-oh...what would Jesus do?), Emma realizes she has to stop trying to please everyone around her and figure out what she wants for herself. It's time to start asking, "What would Emma do?"

I just got my copy and haven't read it yet, but I loved her first book and am totally on board with this one if for no reason other than how liberally parentheses have been used in the description. 

Now maybe the YA genre won't appeal to all of you, but I'm betting it will to those with daughters or those who lost more than one night's sleep worrying about the whole Bella/Edward/Jacob conundrum.  (Y'all know who you are.)  (And I share your shame.)

To win your copy sent personally by me, simply post your favorite take on the phrase of What Would Jesus Do, e.g. What Would Tyler Durden Do or What Would Jack Bauer Do.  I'm going to pick one winner from Jennsylvania.com and one from MySpace. 

Good luck!  You have until noon tomorrow to hit me with your best shot.  (So fire away.)

P.S. Hey, Sally, since it seems to be super important to you, please note I paid for these books myself and am receiving nothing in return save for good karma and a big hug from Eileen next time I see her.  (Suck on that, yes?)

What If?

I got my official first round of edits back yesterday and because I only get paid once I finish this book, I'm going to be scarce around here. 

(And did I mention we're going to have to sandwich in a move shortly, too?) 

(Ha!  No stress here!)

Anyway, if you're looking for an enthralling read in the interim, why not check out my friend Allison Winn Scotch's new book Time of My Life that comes out today?

Here's the synopsis from her website:

From the outside view, Jillian Westfield has a pitch-perfect life.  Her cherubic 18-month old daughter, her wildly successful investment banker husband, a four bedroom, five bath, lemon-scented home with landscaping and neighbors to match.  But that doesn't stop her from mulling over the past, from pushing away the "what ifs" that haunt her when she allows them to seep into her consciousness.  What if she hadn't married Henry?  What if she hadn't abandoned her job at the first sign of pregnancy?  What if she'd never broken up with Jackson?  What if she answered her mother's letter?  Because underneath the shiny veneer of her life, Jill waddles around in a faltering marriage, brewing resentment, and an air of discontentedness.

But after an ethereal massage in which her therapist releases her blocked chi, she wakes up to discover that she's been whisked seven years back, back to her old life, her old self, back to the moments in which she made decisions that charted her future course.  And now that she's back, she's faced with the same roadblocks and obstacles, on this time, armed with hindsight, she can choose a different path and finally lay to rest all of her "what ifs."

Time of My Life is much more than a story about a real life desperate housewife.  Instead, it speaks to so many of our tiny, lingering doubts, the same doubts that send us googling old friends and exes or wistfully pulling out pictures of days gone by.  And through Jillian's journey, in which she rediscovers the mother who abandoned her, reacquaints herself with the strengths she once deemed important, and may literally rewrite her future, we all get a chance to peek inside the windows of our own "what its," and consider if the path we took was the one that has granted us the most happiness. 

I read this book earlier this year and I can't recommend it highly enough.  I'm such a fan of "what if?" stories like Sliding Doors and 13 Going on 30, so this was a huge treat.

Enjoy and see you in a few weeks!

No Vampires Were Harmed in the Writing of This Post

Blame Stephenie Meyer if I've been MIA lately.  I essentially checked out of my own life about a week ago because of the Twilight series and I finally came up for air on Sunday when I finished.  I have no idea why these books have drawn me in so much.  First, they're for young adults (strike one), they're about teenage vampires (strike two), and I pretty much hate every single character in them save for Alice and Jacob.  Also?  "Renesmee" is possibly the dumbest name imaginable.  (BTW, if I ever hear you calling to your little Renesmee in the grocery store or in the aisle at Target, THERE WILL BE MOCKING.)  Regardless, I haven't been sucked into a book to this extent since Harry Potter, so whatever Stephenie Meyer is doing, she's doing it right.

I've also been watching a lot of True Blood on HBO.  Not only have I seen all the episodes, but I also watched every produced short available about them via my cable's On Demand service.  Plus, I just ordered the books upon which it's based.  I'm not kidding when I say it's been all blood-drinking all the time around here.  Even though I'm confident that vampires don't really exist, I've watched/read so much lately that there's a tiny part of me that wonders what if it were plausible? 

Seriously, I've got to lay off the vampire genre for a while.

What's ironic is I just started reading my new friend Tatiana Boncompagni's book Gilding Lily.

Am adoring this book, except I've been on edge the whole time I've been reading it because I keep trying to figure out which Park Avenue socialite turns into a vampire.  (Hint?  None of them.)  (At least not in the literal sense.)

In other news, I'm editing my first draft, so posting will be sporadic again.  Also, we're likely going to be moving soon and I'll be busy there, too.  On top of our ongoing structural/mold/asbestos problems, a crime wave has swept a one block radius around here.  In the last two weeks, there have been a number of drug busts, a couple of thwarted stabbings, and break-ins in three different homes. 

The forced entries are what really get me - I mean, they're scary under any circumstance.  However, they're even more chilling because these entries aren't happening during the day when the houses are empty.  Each attempted attack has happened in the middle of the night.  This has caused some wild speculation on our part because we've been trying to figure out why anyone would try to break in when he knew the residents would be home.  That's not typical burglar behavior.  The person breaking in wants something - and it might not be a laptop.

The last attempted entry happened NEXT DOOR.  The police told our neighbors that a guy just released from prison recently moved into our neighborhood.  They speculate the issues we've been having relate to him.  Awesome!

I may actually have seen the person who's responsible for what's going on.  A couple of weeks ago I was working in my (sinking) office off the back of the house.  There's a glass door next to my desk and I leave it door open (but locked) because the cats like to sun themselves there.  Plus, this keeps them from trying to sit on my wrists. 

So, I was at my desk watching a non-homeless-looking person walking down my alley.  He appeared to be checking things out.  The thing is, unless you live here, there's no reason to be in my alley because it's not a shortcut to anywhere.  Just being there and not in a car is reason enough for suspicion.  I watched as this guy walked past my house and I saw the expression on his face when he noticed my door was open.  He stopped in his tracks and then immediately made a beeline through the vacant backyard next door and headed right towards my house.

What he didn't expect was for me to step out of the shadows with a pit bull and a huge shepherd/wolf mix, shouting, "NO FUCKING WAY."

He left a vapor trail in his wake.

Anyway, let me just say this in case anyone's worried about us - Fletch and I have taken every possible precaution to secure our home against intruders.  Every one.  More than anything, we're annoyed right now, but we're all set in terms of safety. 

Unless the perpetrator is a vampire. 

We don't have any silver buckshot.

OK, Now You're Just Begging for a Fight, Jen

(This post won't make sense if you haven't read the Twilight series.)

I'm halfway through Eclipse and I'm starting to wonder, "Is it just me, or has Edward Cullen kind of turned into a controlling douchebag?"

Discuss.

P.S.  Google turns up 158,000 entries for "I hate Edward Cullen" and 1,240,000 for "I love Edward Cullen."  Clearly I'm in the minority here.

P.P.S.  In case I wasn't clear, TEAM JACOB!

P.P.P.S.  SpellCheck suggests I change the word "douchebag" to "Duesenberg."  For some reason, I find this very, very funny.

As You Wish

Lotta ground to cover here today, so prepare yourself.

OK, here we go.

RECOMMENDED READING

First, you people want book recommendations?  You got 'em.  Here's everything I've finished in the last month:

Queen of the Road is basically what would happen if you took me, gave me a modicum of maturity and a better education, and then tricked me into living on a (very nice) bus with my husband and pets for a year.  I loved this book and I love this author.  If you want a taste of what I'm talking about, check out Doreen Orion's website; it's probably the best author's site I've ever seen.  Lots of multimedia stuff and you can read parts of the book!

A hidden bonus of going on book tour is meeting bookstore owners and employees.  Such was the case at Good Great Place for Books in Oakland.  (BTW, all of you who warned me about how murder-y Oakland is?  Yeah, my biggest fear in this 'hood was being run over by a Range Rover.)  Anyway, the owner picked out The Book of Joe by Jonathan Tropper and promised I'd enjoy it.  She was so right.  It's a story about an author who wrote a novel trashing the town where he grew up and what happens when he finally returns to that town years later.

Whacked by Jules Asner frustrates me, but only because as soon as I finished it I wanted to send Jules a big, squealing fangirl note and there's pretty much no way to contact her.  No website, no MySpace, no Facebook, no nothing.  (My guess it's because she's married to director Steven Soderberg and probably doesn't need ten billion aspiring screenwriters and actors using her book as an excuse to get to him.)  Regardless, Whacked is kind of dark chick lit where the heroine is a stalker, but you root for her anyway.  And love you, Jules Asner!  Call me!  Don't make me continue to stalk YOU.

Allison Winn Scotch recommended Confessions of a Contractor by Richard Murphy.  (Do you read Allison's blog?  I buy everything she recommends and I've yet to be anything less than delighted.)  What's nice is this book actually explains why the fuck it took eight weeks to finish my bathroom, but more importantly, tells a solidly-crafted story about a contractor getting too involved with the lives of his clients.

The Opposite of Love by Julie Buxbaum is another AWS suggestion.  I picked it up about a month ago and didn't put it down until I was done.  It's a great novel about loss and love and finally figuring out who you are.  Spellbinding, seriously.

And now, for what I'm about to read:

Alison Pace is one of my favorite authors, so her new novel City Dog is at the top of my stack.  She excels at creating well-defined, witty characters.  City Dog is about a serious novelist who takes a segue into writing bestselling children's books -it's sure to be a treat!  Check out her Amazon blog and you can read the beginning!

Joanne Rendell is one of my MySpace buddies and her new book The Professors' Wives' Club just came out.  It's being billed as Sex and the City for the academic set, and how can that not be interesting? 

I bought Sheer Abandon by Penny Vincenzi because I opened it to a random page in the middle of the book and totally wanted to read more.  (That's my litmus test for any book, BTW.)  From what I understand it's about a baby born and abandoned in Heathrow airport and what happens when the kid grows up and wants to know who her mom is.  I totally got a Lace vibe from it and, naturally, that spoke to my 80's-Phoebe-Cates-loving heart.  ("Which one of you bitches is my mother?)

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer - this is my reward for finishing my own book.  NO ONE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS.  I figure anything that's inspired that much Facebook flair has to be addictive.

Sometimes I buy a book just for the cover.  Check out Assisted Loving: True Tales of Double Dating with My Dad by Bob Morris.  Because 80 is the new 70.

WHAT I'M WATCHING

First, Gossip Girl.  Duh.  But I've also been totally and completely obsessed with the CBS show Swingtown. 

You guys, this is SO GOOD. 

The story takes place in a wealthy Chicago suburb in 1976.  It's about a nice nuclear family on its way up the social ladder.  They move from their bucolic middle class neighborhood to a big house by the lake, across the street from a couple with an open marriage who suck them in to a swinger lifestyle.

Yes, all of the above sounds really cheesy and tawdry, but the writers have done an amazing job making every character complex, like the head of the swingers who secretly wishes to be a regular housewife and the old neighbor who has trouble coming to terms with her friend's family's success.  Essentially the show is a bold look at the fallout from the sexual revolution of the 60's.  And it's available on iTunes if you're interested and you may be able to see full episodes on CBS.com, free.  Watch it for no reason other than to see the role Grant Show was born to play.

WEBSITES I OBSESSIVELY CHECK

If you all aren't already reading Jenny at the Blogess then do so immediately.  Four words for you:  Angry Transvestite Lego Army.

Senior editor Josh Wolk of EW has a blog and his take on pop culture is no less than brilliant.  Enjoy!  (And the next time I hit the bookstore, I'm getting his memoir Cabin Pressure.)

BATHROOM BEFORE AND AFTERS

Here's what my house looked like for eight weeks.

This was actually taken after some of the stuff was moved to the basement.  Please note how I cannot get to my side of the bed, as well as the inch-thick drywall dust.

This is our dressing area.  Do you know how many times I worried Fletch would get up in the dark and just whiz in the available toilet? 

Why I couldn't get to my treadmill for eight weeks.

The tiling that took weeks.  Multiple weeks.

Was it worth it?

The new ceiling in the powder room (that also took this bath out of the mix for eight weeks.)

My magnificent shower.  You can't really see the detail but the little tiles are onyx and are a million different shades of beach-glass green.

You also can't see the sink detail but it's a slab of quartz with tiny slashes of sage green and brown marbling.  You also can't see where Fletch had to shove the bucket because he just discovered that the sink is leaking.  HA, HA, HA, FUCK.

FINALLY, WHAT PASSES FOR HUMOR AROUND HERE

Fletch was shaving off his goatee but insisted I get shots of him with just a mustache first.  He laughed so hard he almost wet his pants when he saw this.  I was all, "You look like a Chicago cop, what of it?"

"I haz a butt."  "I haz a butt, too."

And finally, what I like to call Nature's Own Post-It Notes

Alrighty, I'll be back when the book is done! 

(If you guys have any suggestions for good books, shows, or websites in the interim, put them in the comments.)

The Book (And Record) Cellar

Shit!  I almost forgot to post this!  Tomorrow night (July 16) a group of authors are doing an event at The Book Cellar at 4736 N. Lincoln Ave at 7:00.  They include my buddy Jess Riley, Margot Justes, Libby Fischer Hellmann, and Francine Friedman.  Stacey and I plan to be there in the audience, so why not come out and support local authors at this amazing indie book seller?

Did I mention the bookstore has its own bar?  Books!  Drinks!  How could you not come?

What else?  Oh, yeah, I wrote more than 3,500 words yesterday.  (That's about fifteen book-typeset pages.)  Not sure what kind of roll I was on, but I hope to keep it up. 

Part of what's getting me/keeping me going is music.  I'm writing stories from childhood on up, so I've been listening to stuff that reminds me of those time periods.  It's amazing how one little hook or chorus can bring back so much imagery, like how Celebrate puts me right on the floor of the West Park Roller Rink, awkwardly navigating over spangled skate-laces or how Man in the Moon places me and my flannel/Birk/longjohn-clad self (shameful) at the end of the bar at Harry's, singing along with all the other patrons because we secretly believe REM should have put US in that video instead.

This is all a roundabout way of explaining why Fletch found me watching George Michael's Freedom '90 over and over again yesterday on YouTube.  "I'm working!" I told him. 

While I was thinking about the video later, it occured to me that some of my readers are practically babies (or I'm a dinosaur) and weren't even born until the '80s.  That means some of you were in grade school when this song/video came out.  Thus, some of you may have never even seen what is surely the greatest music video ever made. 

Seriously?  Naomi?  Linda?  Christy?  Cindy?  ELAINE IRWIN, MY VERY FAVORITE?

Your assignment for today is to watch it here on YouTube.  (Sony's disabled the ability to embed or I'd have posted it.)

Appreciate not only the video, but also George's enormous lyrical fuck-you to MTV and the record company.  Discuss.  Enjoy!

 

This Is What Procrastination Looks Like

Yesterday my friend Danny put this up on his blog. 

Everything about the entry made me bark with laughter because it so perfectly captures the essence of an author on deadline.  I was tempted to send him a note and a photo of my garden, saying, "Oh, honey, no.  THIS is what writer's block looks like." 

If I didn't have a book due, I'm sure I'd have thrown down a couple of geraniums and impatiens and called it done.  Instead, I concentrated my efforts, blending a hundred different kinds of plants together with the same singular dedication and precision only witnessed in lovestruck teen-aged boys starring in John Hughes films when they're making mixed tapes to woo Molly Ringwald. 

(Did I just date myself here?  If so, substitute "Nick Hornby book" for John Hughes movie and "Kate Winslet" for Molly Ringwald.) 

(If you have to substitue "Justin Timberlake video" and "Lauren Conrad" you're probably too young for my sense of humor.)

Anyway, my writer's block is a little different from Danny's.  It's not that I can't get out the words; they're there - all I have to do is sit at the computer and let them out.  Rather, when I'm on deadline, I find so many other things in my life that suddenly need to be fixed, planted, organized, and researched, like, right this minute.  Sure, I can work on my book... but not until I've rearranged everything in my bathroom cabinet, grouping hair products by size and manufacturer on the first shelf, face lotions and potions on the second, and body stuff on third, with requisite thinking breaks where I try to determine if an all over self-tanner should be housed on two or three as it's mostly for body but really, I'm only interested in tanning my face although I do get my neck and a bit of my shoulders and I wonder if I shouldn't install a fourth shelf for this very reason?

Occasionally this obsessive work avoidance is a good thing.  Take last year, for example. I found myself working out rather than working on my manuscript.  Yeah, it slowed my writing down, but it sure sped up my metabolism.  More recently, I fell into a bit of an internet rabbit hole yesterday while researching flight miles and I came out with a Gold membership reward level on American Airlines!  I can't really explain how I got the upgraded status, but it has to do with an unofficial Gold/Platinum challenge (that I still don't understand) and also a whole lot of time spent/links referenced to solidify my case.

Point? 

Who cares about the details when my procrastination has made me likely to get upgraded to First Class on my upcoming vacation?  Woo!!  The only down side is that Fletch isn't a Gold member and won't get the upgrade.  He says he's fine with coach as long as I don't get all obnoxious and officious and rub it in. 

(I make no promises.)

Again, point?

I'll be wallowing poolside this Fourth of July weekend and this is the book with which I plan to wallow:

Is there anything better than a deliciously trashy novel, read while sitting in a tepid body of water, frosty tropical drink in hand?

No.  No, there's not. 

Anyway, Tan Lines isn't officially released until July 8, but sometimes you can find books in the store early.  If you can't get one yet, don't fret.  I've been meaning to write up a reading list for a while, so why not do it right this minute in lieu of getting any further on my manuscript which is due at the end of the summer and which I won't get to for about five days while I'm poolside AND THERE'S NO STRESS HERE?

Thus I give you Jen's Summer Reading Series.  (Now with links that actually go where they're supposed to and one more bit of required reading.)

I highly recommend any of the following for all your beach-read needs:

Bringing Home the Birkin by Michael Tonello - I loved this book SO MUCH.  Tonello describes his pursuit of the Hermes Birkin bag in such beautiful places that I actually felt like I was somewhere exotic, and not just stuffed in a middle seat on my way to Cincinnati.  I would also like him to be my gay boyfriend but I suspect I'd feel all untucked and ungainly next to him.  He's completely FAB.

Girls in Trucks by Katie Crouch - I'm obsessed with books about Southern women and this one does not disappoint.  Southern sensibility plus ennui equals a riveting novel. 

Love the One You're With by Emily Giffin - Another great story by Giffin.  I think she's brilliant because she has the ability to make me feel like I'm living inside her character's head.

Chasing Harry Winston by Lauren Weisberger - I ignored the less than flattering reviews and bought the book anyway.  Because you know what?  Sometimes critics are just jealous.  Chasing Harry Winston is big fun and Weisberger does a great job creating three distinct and diverse heroines.  THIS should be the next book made into a Sex and the City-type series.  Loved it! 

Are You There Vodka, It's Me, Chelsea by Chelsea Handler - I bought it for the title alone and laughed the entire way through it.  I'd want us to be friends, too, but I'm afraid she'd be the funny one and I just can't have that. 

Moose: A Memoir of Fat Camp by Stephanie Klein - I inhaled this book like a bag of Cheetos.  Fascinating and raw, I was not able to put it down.  (Except to get more candy.)

Driving Sideways by Jess Riley - This is the ultimate roadtrip book.  Jess busts out the word "shittastic" within the first two pages and that alone makes it worth buying right this minute.  (Available at Target, too!)

Half-Assed by Jennette Fulda - A weight loss memoir where the author not only doesn't hate herself, but also loses half her body weight by working hard.  Read it and be inspired!

The Gatecrasher by Madeleine Wickham - Even though I love me some Becky Bloomwood/Sophie Kinsella, I really dig when Wickham puts out books under her real name.  These novels are often a bit darker and she doesn't tie every ending up with a giant, shiny, very American bow.  Definitely worth a read.

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything by Janelle Brown - Oh my God, this one consumed me for four straight days.  I was so wrapped up in it I didn't even use my iTouch on the plane back from Boston, which is really saying something since I had new episodes of both Denise Richards' and Dina Lohan's new shows.  It is an AMAZING novel of loss, redemption, and, best of all, revenge.   

OK, that's about it.  I have officially exhausted everything else I can do to procrastinate working on the new book. 

So I shall bid you a safe and happy holiday, and leave you with two of the sweetest words ever to be uttered:

VEGAS, BABY!

Do Sour Grapes Make Good Whine?

For the third year running, a certain chick-blog organization has ABSOLUTELY no interest in my participation.  From the schedule of events:

What We Do: Blog to Book Redux  This session rocked the house last year, so we're bringing in more bloggers, publishers and agents to dish about your opportunities to turn your blogging talent into a book publishing dream come true. Ellen Gerstein from Wiley & Sons has published many a blogger's book. Jennette Fulda and Rita Arens represent two different blog to book approaches, one a memoir and the other a blogging anthology. Walk away with some insider info and effective tactics you can employ to get yourself on the published author path.

Was I even invited?   

 

No, don't be silly.   

 

After all, what do I know about turning blogs into (New York Times and USA Today and Boston Globe and Follet's college list and Atlanta Journal-Constitution and something-in-Dallas-but-I'm-too-lazy-to-look-up-the-specifics bestselling) books?   

Seriously.