jennsylvania

What's Your Number? - UPDATED WITH WINNERS!

Okay, winners will have just received an email from me and from Karyn, but in case you're looking here first and not your inbox, they are:

With- Wendi Roach, Heidi Eicher

Withouth - Amy Goddard, Arlene A (aecarb), and Amy (seanamy)

Thanks so much for playing!

* * *

This is my friend Karyn.

Nope, she's not the bride.

She's the one with her feet in the air.

I chose this shot because it best sums up everything Karyn is.

I've known Karyn a number of years ago but I knew of her long before that because she was my nemesis. She'd turned her website SaveKaryn.com into a book and sold a movie about it, too. I'd log on to her site, read about her success, and I'd use my bitterness about what she'd accomplished as motivation to start my own website and write my own book. (Still waiting for the movie, though.)

When I finally met her, she won me over in the first five seconds and she's since become one of my dearest friends.

Isn't she adorable?

Anyway, even though she sold her memoir to a movie studio, that's no guarantee it would ever see an audience. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the movie doesn't get made. Which sucks.

But that's not the kind of detail that stops Karyn. I mean look at the top picture; if she doesn't care about pesky stuff like the laws of gravity, she's certainly not going to worry about percentages.

So she wrote a novel and called it Twenty Times a Lady.

And she sold another movie based on her book.

And this time? Karyn's movie got made.

You can see What's Your Number in theaters everyone September 30th!

To celebrate the coming film and the re-release of the Twenty Times a Lady book (now called What's Your Number?,) we're giving away signed copies to five lucky winners!

We've got three copies of the US version and two of the UK version. Here's what they look like:

The US version

And here's the UK version

Again, because this is Karyn, it makes total sense that Captain America is on the cover of the British version and not the American one. (Other than the covers, they're completely the same inside.) When Karyn and I discussed how I should do this contest, Karyn suggested that everyone write their "number" in the comments section, but... no. This is not information I want to have, nor do you need to share with the whole Internet in order to win a book.

To enter to win one of the copies, write in the comments section "With" if you prefer the cover with Captain America or "Without" if you want the American version. That's it, just "with" or "without." One entry per person/IP address, and the winners will be chosen at random. I'm going to leave the contest open until 12:00 PM tomorrow and I'll announce the winners tomorrow afternoon.

So... happy reading, happy viewing, and good luck!

P.S. When Fletch saw the trailer for the first time, he was quiet for a minute before he said, "This really happened to her, didn't it?"

I guess we'll never know...

 

"Do I feel lucky?" Well, Do Ya, Punk? UPADTED WITH WINNERS!

*This contest is now closed because the winners have been picked at random.  They are...

Tricia who blogs here

Peach who blogs here

Gingermandy who blogs here

Caprice will be emailing each of you to get your shipping information. I appreciate you all for playing along at home!  Stay tuned for a couple of other cool book giveaways (namely Beth Harbison and Laurie Notaro) which I'll do in a few days after I get a little more in front of some looming deadlines.

Thank you!

* * *

Who's up for a giveaway?

If your answer is, "I am, I am!" then this is your lucky day.

To celebrate the release of my friend Caprice Crane's new novel With a Little Luck tomorrow, we're giving away signed copies today!

Here's the official description:

If love is in the cards, then somebody stacked the deck.
 
Los Angeles radio DJ Beryl “Berry” Lambert, whose name means luck, doesn’t much believe in it—although, thanks to her dear old gambling dad, she’s a bit superstitious, certain that everything happens for a reason. She keeps a four-leaf clover in her wallet, never takes off her horseshoe necklace, and won’t tempt fate by walking under a ladder or opening an umbrella indoors. Ever.

When it comes to love, though, she could use a little luck. Two disastrous relationships back-to-back can mean only one thing to a woman who knows that everything good or bad happens in threes: A third Mr. Wrong is imminent. But fellow DJ Ryan Riley goes against the odds. Their on-air battle of the sexes is a hit for the station and sparks some serious heat after hours. Ryan is funny and sexy, and he thinks Berry’s quirkiness is cute. Is their romance doomed by the numbers—or is a girl who leaves nothing to chance finally ready to gamble?

Caprice Crane’s witty, winsome novel about the game of modern romance proves that with a little luck and the right stakes, everybody wins.

 

I loved this book.  It's clever and charming with just the right amount of bite and no one does dialogue like Caprice, so I'm delighted to help facilitate your winning a copy.  Entering couldn't be easier - just write the words "Get lucky with Caprice Crane" in the comments box.  (Caprice!  It's funny!  Don't kill me!)  Simple, yes?  The comments section will be open until 5:00 CST today and lucky winners will be picked via random number generator.  One entry per person/IP address.  Void where prohibited, no deposit, no return, etc.

If you're not so lucky, no worries!  With a Little Luck will be available in stores/online/via e-book tomorrow.  And if you're in New York, see Caprice Wednesday night at the Barnes & Noble at 150 E. 86th St. at 7:00 PM!  She has additional events coming up in San Francisco, LA, and Chicago, where I'll be cheering her on in the front row, so check her website for details.

So there you go... good luck!

 

Yeah, I'm Going There... TEAM SNOOKI

So... apparently I'm not the only one working on a novel.

Snooki's writing a book, too, titled A Shore Thing.

The second the announcement was made, every literary blog and pop culture site exploded, mostly with speculation on whether or not Snooki has even read a book.  (According to the New York Times, she has.  Snooki's library contains Twilight and Dear John.)

Per the S & S press release, the novel will "revolve around a girl looking for love on the boardwalk - one full of big hair, dark tans, and fights galore."

In each article I've read, this is the point where everyone starts trash-talking Snooki and Simon & Schuster and bemoaning the state of publishing.

I'm not going to do that because I don't see this book as being a harbinger of the apocalypse.

Now I can understand why other writers might be upset at the notion of Snooki getting a book deal.  I mean, this is the girl who didn't know what to do with chicken once it fell on the floor.  (Hint: throw it away.)  But Snooki won't be writing A Shore Thing alone.  I don't have firsthand confirmation on this particular project, but books of this nature almost always have a ghostwriter.  Sometimes the ghostwriter does everything, sometimes they get ideas from the celebrity and flesh them out on their own, and sometimes it's a true collaboration.  My point is a skilled ghostwriter will not only be proficient in putting together a coherent narrative but also in replicating Snooki's voice so well that Snooki may not even realize she didn't write all of it.  (Oh, and by the way?  Often ghostwriters have successful literary careers outside of their celebrity books.) 

I imagine Snooki will have a lot to say in terms of characters, setting, details, etc.  If the axiom is to write what you know, then her input will be invaluable.  And Snooki's aggressive cluelessness is charming on the wildly successful Jersey Shore so her ghostwriter should be able to capture that quality and translate it onto the page. 

And where's the crime in producing a light, fun beach read, anyway? 

As for Simon & Schuster's role, they likely paid a tidy sum to get this book.  I imagine this fact makes a whole lot of serious authors want to open a vein.  However, with the sales A Shore Thing will garner, S & S is pretty much guaranteed an enviable profit.  Snooki's deal doesn't preclude an unknown author from getting a shot.  Rather, by publishing a profitable book, there will be more funds in the coffers to allow S & S to take chances on unknown writers.  A rising tide raises all boats. 

Books like Twilight and Dear John are the kind of novels that get people to read who might not normally pick up a book. 

I'll bet A Shore Thing will do the same. 

So, please, let's not be so quick to denigrate any enterprise that encourages reading... and authors getting paid.

 

We Interrupt This Short Break

Hey!  Look at me!  Typing on the internet! 

Haven't seen THAT in a while, eh?

So, before I can get to the story of my prolonged absence, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that my friend Stacey's new book Good Enough to Eat comes out today.

Here's the thing - this book is certainly Good Enough to Buy on its own merits in terms of plot, characters, and dialogue.  Stacey is an accomplished writer and her stories never cease to hold my attention. 

What you may not know is that she's my best friend and outside of Fletch, my most trusted adviser.  There are very few decisions I make without consulting her and I absolutely didn't choose a house until she saw all the options. 

Stacey is my better, more rational me.  She's been responsible for talking me off the ledge more times than I care to mention in regard to my writing career.  (Stacey, please make note that this year's "I don't want to be a writer anymore" meltdown is scheduled the week before Thanksgiving.)  And the few times she's not around, she's the voice inside my head keeping me from doing stupid things, meaning if I DON'T have food poisoning, thank Stacey.

This weekend after diagnosing myself with walking pneumonia, I got the following note from her:

"Dr. Lancaster, step away from the WebMD.  You don't have pneumonia.  You have a cold." 

(FYI, I have an 0 for 100 record of properly diagnosing my symptoms on WebMD.) 

Then she went on to tell me if I was a dead woman if I put a tanning bed in my basement after I mentioned I was looking a bit pale.

The way she can connect the dots to the conclusion I hadn't even yet reached is a bit scary. 

Or comforting. 

Mostly comforting.

Point?  Not all of you will be lucky enough to have Stacey in your lives, but you can have a piece of her through her books. 

Available at fine booksellers everywhere!

P.S.  If you're around at noon today, tune in to see Stacey making her famous Roasty Tomato Soup on WGN's noon broadcast!   

Anyway, as I mentioned, here I am on the internet.  Although our move took longer than I thought (anticipated, budgeted for, could have ever possibly imagined, etc.) it eventually ended.  In theory, I should have been happily banging away in the Word Factory weeks ago.  I had my office all set up two weeks ago and I was ready to get to writing, what with my new book being due at the end of the month.

The, um, network fairy had different ideas.

For some reason, Fletch got our internet connectivity to function in every room except the one where I actually work.  This sounds like a minor sticking point, but I always write on a desktop because I loathe how all of our laptops have the hypersensitive touchpad instead of the tracking point in the middle of it.  Apparently I have lazy thumbs because I'll be in the middle of a paragraph and then I'll accidentally touch the stupid square and suddenly my text is flying all over the page.

This may or may not have resulted in a thrown laptop on three previous occasions.

Anyway, as my due date loomed, my agitation grew as I can't write without an internet connection.  I need constant access to an online dictionary, thesaurus, Wikipedia, Perez Hilton, etc.  On top of that, the book I was writing wasn't ready to be written. 

I've never struggled DURING the writing process before - it's always either in the time leading up to write or after I've finished writing when the niggling self-doubt begins.  (See:  Annual Late Fall Freak Out, Stacey Fixes.) 

I've spent months working on a memoir about doing charitable work.  The premise is funny in that I intentionally put myself in situations I know I won't like in the hopes that hilarity would ensue.  And in many cases it has, but the thing about volunteering is that the more you do, the more you realize needs to be done.  And as I put my stories together, it became increasingly clear that I needed more time to give this book its proper due.

Fortunately, I'm with a publisher who trusts my instincts so we decided to swap some due dates.  Now Involuntary will come out late next year and Apocalypse House debuts in May.  Somehow writing (thinly veiled) fiction about two city-idiots moving to the suburbs to fix up a house currently makes the most sense.

And I will do that.

As soon as Fletch fixes my goddamned network connection.

The good news is that Fletch now has ordered all the tools to make everything work.

The bad news is said fix precipitated a visit from the irony fairy on Friday morning.

"Listen, I'm really sorry it took so long to get this figured out," he said, standing in the doorway of the dining room.

"Here's the thing, Fletch," I replied.  "I think the problem has been that you're too theoretical."  I was seated at the big table, waiting to go over a friend's book proposal.  Wind started to ruffle the stacks of paper we'd worked all morning to print on our assed-up network so I rose to close the window.

"How so?" he asked. 

"You spent your whole career designing networks, but you never had to - Jesus, why is this window sticking so much? - actually build one yourself.  See, the problem is you know how everything works on a macro level, but on the micro level?  No so much.  And, argh.  What. Is. Wrong. With. This. Window? Still. Stuck. Argh.  In this case, you're like one of those guys who - ARGH - is so convinced that he knows where he's going - OOF- that he refuses to ask for directions and-"

And... then this.

"What just... how did that... Shit!  Fletch!  Come help me!"

He moseyed over to inspect the damages.

"I don't know what happened!" I cried.  "Can you get this damn thing back in?"

He poked his head out the window.  "Well," he started.  "Theoretically I understand why the window fell out, but in practice I may simply not know what I'm doing.  You see, on a macro level I have an idea of where you went wrong, but on a micro level..."

This is the face of smug.

And yes, it took me fifteen minutes of apologizing to get him to fix the damn thing.

Today, should all the parts arrive, he'll do the same for our network and I can go back to work on my computer proper.

Until then, please enjoy Staceys' book... and Fletch's possible upcoming blog post titled Good Enough to Say I Told You So.
 

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.