Idle Musings While Running

Wouldn't it be neat if they had a device that could just transcribe your thoughts to paper, without the need to type them or say them out loud? On second thought, no -- this seems much too 1984-ish. (Can we use that term any more? Is it still relevant now that the date has passed?) The minute such a device exists, "they" will start using against "us" involuntarily . . . I won't even go there. And don't even write to tell me such a thing already exists; I don't want to know.

I had the first thought because I notice I always "write" blog posts in my head as I'm out running, but by the time I return to my computer, I've lost the way I wanted to say it. Sure, I usually remember the idea, but it never comes out on the screen the way it did in my head. By the time I sit in front of the computer, I'm ready to work on fiction, not on blog posts.

Anyway, I was listening to some DMB as I was running, and I realized why women don't mind the long jams at their concerts -- with the long, slow, extended lead ups and then crashing finales as Dave screams like a madman -- and many men, especially male music critics, do. Many guys accuse them of being self-indulgent. I don't think women see it this way. It's like foreplay and sex. I'll leave it to the reader to think about what I mean . . .

I ran alone this morning, and later, because my running partner Monica had to cancel. Monica has a baby -- she is Gerber baby cute, truly -- and baby was up a lot last night. The run reminded me of why I like running early; it was much hotter and much sunnier at 9 a.m. than it is at 6 a.m. (Indeed, right now it's still dark at 6).

On another, totally unrelated point: I think they should draw a line around the baggage claim carousel at airports, about 3 or 4 feet out, and tell everyone to remain behind the line until you spot your piece of luggage. Think how much easier it would be to (1) see the luggage coming on the belt, and (2) retrieve your suitcase once you've spotted it, without the need to force your way through the crowds hovering right at the edge of the belt. It might take a bit before people voluntarily adhered to the system, but I think once they saw how much easier it made the process, it would catch on. What do you think?

Next post: I'll talk about how I like (or not) the new Kindle book reader by Amazon.

It's Been an Exciting Week for TELL NO LIES

A lot has happened this past week with my book, Tell No Lies.

1. Today is the day it officially goes on sale in the UK!

2. Just a week ago my editor here in the US sent me the final cover (at left) for the US edition, which comes out in May. I think it looks fantastic -- very striking, very contemporary. I've been really lucky to have such great designers for my covers. Let me know what you think.

3. On Sunday, the Travel section of the London Telegraph ran an interview with me about Orlando. Here's the link: Telegraph interview.

4. Best of all, the novel garnered some good reviews! Trashionista called it "an excellent pyschological thriller and an extremely polished debut." The UK's Guardian said Tell No Lies is "an absorbing account of an honourable man gradually yielding to multiple temptations," and "a strong debut from a writer who knows her law, and more importantly, can depict the ebb and flow of relationships, the conflict between love and desire and the irresistible urge to self-destruct of a 'man who has everything'."

So it's been a good week . . . I'm smiling.

Tales from the Road

What a difference a few hours in a plane makes.

I'm in Concord, Massachusetts. I spend the morning on my first full day here writing in my room at the Hawthorne Inn, and I head out to get some lunch at the Main Streets Market & Cafe in Concord Center. I've brought my laptop because I have visions of sitting in the noise and bustle of life while I eat and get some more writing done. It's nearing the end of the lunch hour: 12:50. I park my car and stroll down Main Street marveling at how damn quaint it is up here in New England. I mean, I used to live here -- one town over in Acton -- so I know this, but still, I love it anew every time.

At the door to the little cafe I stop because on the door there's a sign (similar to the No Shirts, No Shoes, No Service type of sign) that says: Restaurant in Use, No Cell Phones, No Laptops.

I'm bummed. Not about the cell phone ban; if you read this blog with any regularity, you know how perturbed I get with obnoxious cell phone use in public places. But no laptops? Oh, that hits me where it hurts. I'm up here in Massachusetts for two reasons. The first is to visit my girlfriend Karen (yes, the same Karen who gets a grateful nod in the Acknowledgements section of my novel, Tell No Lies), and the second is to write. Karen and I can't get together until Saturday because of her school schedule, so I've come up a few days early to write. A section of the novel I'm currently working on takes place in New England, and I figure it can't hurt to immerse myself in the place since it's been ten years now since we moved away.

Anyway, at first I can't really understand the ban on laptops. After all, I'm eating alone, and the laptop's quiet, so I wouldn't be disturbing anyone. And in my experience, I've noticed that venues that allow - indeed encourage - laptop use tend to be hopping places. They become local hangouts, and that has to be good for business.

But once I'm in the cafe, I start to understand. This place is still hopping at 1:00 p.m. So perhaps they fear that diners using laptops will loiter for hours at a table, which could see several turnovers of customers otherwise.

So in the end, I accept the ban without feeling put out. I enjoy my lunch and just take in the surroundings, which helps the writing just as much if not more than the laptop. And I'm rewarded for my acceptance when I hear a waitress say warily to another worker, "Why's that person taking pictures at the front of the restaurant?" I turn to see what she's talking about, and sure enough, there's a woman just near the front door snapping photos of the restaurant interior. And I realize that's why I love it up here in Massachusetts. All over the rest of America, it seems, people would be mugging for the camera, either overtly or covertly, hoping for their chance to "be seen." Here, though, they still seem to value the concept of privacy, and guard it jealously. That waitress didn't view the camera as an opportunity, but as an intrusion, and there's something sort of refreshing about that in this age of everyone groping desperately for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Amazing Savannah photos

You know how everyone has a place they'd love to live? A place where -- if money, job, children's schools, etc. were no object -- they'd move to in an instant? Well, for my old boss Frank, that place was always Savannah, Georgia. (Clarification: Frank is not old -- sorry about that Frank! -- what I mean is that he was my boss at my last job. Also, Frank is my friend, too, not just my "old boss". He started out a colleague, became a friend, then became my boss, and thankfully, even after that, he remained my friend -- because he's a really neat, interesting guy to have as a friend).

Anyway, not long after I left my last job to move to Florida and do this writing thing full-time, Frank's dream came true. He and his wife now call Savannah home. And that leads me to the point of this post.

This morning I sat at my computer to begin writing a piece for Lake Mary Life Magazine and I found a link to a photo slideshow in my email box, along with the following note from Frank:

I was introduced through a mutual friend to a German freelance photographer Ronald Schmidt and his wife Nadine who were traveling through the southeastern US around Christmas and New Years and were in Savannah from January 4-8.

I think you will all enjoy this incredible photo essay that Ronald produced of Savannah:

http://www.ronaldschmidt-photography.com/usa_slideshow/USA_slideshow.html

Some of these images are just . . . WOW.

And yes that is my Cadillac you see toward the end. I spent the afternoon of Saturday 1/5 with Ronald and Nadine and we rode out to Tybee and climbed the 178 steps of the lighthouse. Too bad Ronald didn't include any views from the top of the lighthouse, including looking back down toward the Cadillac in the parking lot, a view suggesting the car is probably visible from space . . .

If you enjoy photography, you have to check out these photos (and turn up your volume, too). Frank is right -- some of them are WOW. This guy really has an eye. What I found so impressive is that a German photographer could capture so well that sense of Americana -- Savannah-style. (In the interest of full disclosure, Frank mentioned that a couple of the marina photos are from the Charleston area, not Savannah, and one or two near the end (of the train and the skyscraper) we think may be somewhere in Europe).

NGU: Hard Work Truly Does Pay Off

(January 9th, 2008) Happy Birthday to Dave Matthews (41), from your biggest fan. I read something somewhere that said he stands 6'4". Can that be right? He never looks that tall onstage . . .

Anyway, on to the point of this blog entry.

NGU. My daughter wrote those letters for me on the back of my tank top when I ran (well, okay, let's be honest - ran and walked) the Disney Marathon back in 2004. For those who don't know what the acronym stands for, it's Never Give Up. It's true for running, but it's also true for writing. I have a little story to tell about one of my writing friends from Philly that proves the point.


I met Deb Kossmann back in 1999, shortly after I had moved to Philly and joined a writing group. Deb was another writer in our group. Fast forward to October 2007. I received an email from Deb in which she shared the good news that a humorous piece she'd submitted to a local memoir contest had won first place and would be published in Philly's City Paper. That news alone is enough to make a writer's day. No, her week. Her month. Her year.


But . . . it just so happened that one of the judges of the contest was the editor of the Modern Love column in the Style section of the New York Times. He loved the piece and wanted to publish a shorter version of it in the NYT. So she worked with him to edit it down, and the piece was published on October 28, 2007 (and she got paid for it, too!). Here's the link to Deb's article. It's hilarious and a great read.


Now, if getting published in the New York Times isn't a big enough feather in the cap, it gets even better. The very day it was published -- on a Sunday, no less -- she got a call from a literary agent who read the piece and was interested in representing her! After checking him out (with good results), she eventually signed on and now she's working on a book proposal.


Imagine that. She started with the sole intention of writing a piece to submit to a local contest, and next thing she knows, her piece is published in the NYT and she's got a contract with an agent.


Now, if you just heard this story without knowing anything else about Deb, you'd think -- lucky dog! But the point of this blog entry (in addition to linking everyone who reads this to her funny piece) is that all these good things didn't just fall into her lap. She's been writing for a long time -- at least as long as I've known her and, if I remember correctly, since she was very young (like most writers). And she's been submitting as long as I've known her, too. Sometimes getting acceptances and sometimes getting rejections. I haven't asked her outright, but I suspect, like most of us, she has received more rejections than acceptances. But she didn't give up. She didn't blame the publishing industry, she didn't blame editors, or agents, or anyone. She just kept writing because that's what writers do. They write. They work hard. And sometimes -- there's never any guarantee -- that hard work pays off. So KUDOS to you, Deb! You deserve it.

In that same vein, I'd like to include something my new friend Joseph Hayes (the Burry Man) wrote in his blog (thanks for the reprint permission, Joseph!):

There are five levels of writing, as there are in grief:

People who know the language (they can speak and read) think they can write;
People who think they are writers believe they will be discovered;
People who aren't discovered blame editors, publishers and readers;
People who realize that writing is hard discover whether they are actually writers;
People who actually are writers, write.

'Nuff said. Happy New Year! To the writers out there, keep writing!

TELL NO LIES to be published in Spain

A little update to my last post: I got the good news last month (I've just been derelict in my blogging) that the Spanish book club Circulo de Lectores (part of the Random House Mondadori group) has acquired rights to publish and translate Tell No Lies in Spain.

I had two years of Spanish many, many years ago, so maybe I'll be able to read and actually understand at least some of what I wrote. ;-)

More TELL NO LIES news and other odds and ends

My UK publisher recently informed me that they've sold rights to a Dutch publisher to publish Tell No Lies in the Netherlands. Seems my novel is going to be translated into a different language!

It's finally cooling off a bit down here in Florida (though "cooling off" is relative, I know). I went for a run yesterday morning and the three and a half miles or so weren't too difficult, despite my sporadic running schedule. I credit the crisp air and overcast sky. I just joined up with a new running club in my area in an effort to force myself to run more regularly. I'm just not someone who likes to run solo every time out; I need the motivation of knowing someone has dragged herself out of bed at a wee hour to meet me, so I'd better show up. My first meet-up with this group is tomorrow morning, for a 5K run. Should be interesting . . . I haven't done a race since the Disney Marathon in '04, but I figure a 5K is manageable.

There's also been a change in the air with respect to movies, I've noticed. It seems Hollywood has finally realized some moviegoers are actually over the age of 17, and we like to see something other than special effects . . . For the first time in many, many years, I can honestly say there are several movies I want to see and they're all in theatres at the same time. Wow! Let's see: In the Valley of Elah, Rendition, Gone Baby Gone, Into the Wild, Michael Clayton . . . I'm going next weekend to see Into the Wild with my book group.

Last item for today, for you writers out there -- here's a link to a funny article in the October 15th issue of Publishers Weekly. I actually enjoy answering questions from other writers, because I remember asking them (well, I still ask them, they're just different questions now) and feeling that it was so difficult to get straight answers (and it still is). But I guess the lesson is -- don't expect easy answers, don't give up if you really want it, and do the work. You'll know what I mean after reading the article.

TELL NO LIES on display at the Frankfurt Book Fair

Rick's at the Frankfurt International Book Fair right now, and he was at his company's booth (which just happened to be next to the Macmillan booth), and something caught his eye, so he looked over and THIS IS WHAT HE SAW! My book on display! My book on a really, really big display! My book next to a Rolling Stone! In typical Rick fashion, when he calls to tell me about it he says: "Well, you finally got your name in lights!" I'm still smiling . . .

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

1. The other day I was running on the trail near my house, and I approached a little boy (he looked to be about eight or nine years old) who had dismounted his scooter and was crouched down low to the ground looking at something on the pavement. As I passed him, I saw that he was inspecting a leaf. I mean, really inspecting it. And I thought to myself: "How cool is that?" Here's this little boy, raised in the age of computers, video games, and DVD screens on the backs of every seat in the family minivan, and he's out on a Saturday morning, riding his scooter (not an electric one, by the way) and inspecting nature. I was truly thrilled. There is hope.

2. On the opposite end of the spectrum, my daughters' piano recital last night. A cell phone started ringing in the middle of one boy's song. Not once, not twice, not even three times. And I don't mean "rings" -- I mean separate calls. As in, repeated calls to the same cell phone. AT A PIANO RECITAL. Had it been one of my girls sitting at the piano at the time this happened, I'm not too sure I would have been able to restrain myself. I might be sitting in jail right now on charges of assault instead of typing this blog . . . You've heard of road rage? Well, what about cell phone rage? TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES, PEOPLE!

Introducing . . . .My Sexy UK Book Cover!

Here's the new cover of my newly titled novel, Tell No Lies (UK edition). I am so pleased with it!

I often hear stories about authors who hated their covers and felt like the their publishers didn't choose an image that adequately conveyed the concept of the novel. I was a bit nervous waiting to see what my UK publisher would come up with. My editor told me she rejected a lot of proposed covers, so when she finally sent this one to me, I couldn't have been happier. I think they did a great job of preserving the "sexiness" of my original cover, and I love the dreamy, evocative feel of the blues and greys.

Now I'm anxiously waiting to see what the US publisher comes up with . . .

Has it really been three months?

Without fail, every time I post an entry to the blog, I tell myself that I won't let so much time lapse before posting the next one. But without fail, I do.

It's not that I have nothing to say. The blog entries are in my head. I'm full of thoughts and opinions that I can't wait to share with the world, however trivial, but somehow I never find the time. When I manage to find time to write, it usually comes down to this: I can either (1) work on my novel(s), which means editing Best Intentions (which, by the way, is no longer Best Intentions, see below) or writing Book 2, or (2) blog. Since I have a publisher who is counting on me to do the first of these choices -- indeed, is paying me to do the first of these choices (and for which I thank my lucky stars on a daily basis -- no kidding! -- I really do), I usually end up choosing number one.

So why, you might ask, am I blogging this very minute? Simply put, I have a killer headache and though I'm perfectly capable of blogging in spite of my pain, there's just no way I'd be able to craft any type of readable fiction in this condition. Writing fiction, for me at least, involves entering a different realm, and the headache is like a sentry at the door, refusing to let me in.

Having said that, I hope the meandering topics to follow are somewhat coherent . . .

First, the novel. I came back from Africa to the news from my editor that they'd like to give Best Intentions a new title. Now, anyone who knows me probably realizes that I would freak out at this kind of news. (In fact, I think even my editor has quickly learned this about me, given the very nice and nonchalant way she mentioned the idea in passing -- but that could also just be because she is, without fail, a genuinely nice person.) I'm the type of person who freaks out whenever something unexpected happens, though it usually occurs behind the scenes (read: in front of my poor husband). And yes, I'll freely admit to some minor freaking out about the proposed title change. But the more I thought about it, I really warmed up to the idea. I found it easier to remember how I never really liked my existing title too much, and how it started out as a working title and only became the "real" title when I couldn't think of anything else. And once I saw the proposed title on the proposed cover (for the UK edition, that is), I moved quickly from "warm" to "thrilled". It looks fantastic! I'll share the title and the cover as soon as I have an image that's ready for public consumption.

Otherwise on the book front, I spent much of the summer working on edits, and I think (crossing fingers) that I'm about done. Without gushing too much about my editor again, I will say she's amazing, and truly knows her stuff. When I mention I'm working on edits, a lot of people ask me: "Well, what do you mean? What kind of edits do they want?" and I have a hard time explaining. I mean tightening, and pruning, and word choice, and knowing just the right moment when a chapter or a scene should begin and end. Knowing where the reader needs to have more of something, and where the reader needs less. All of these things and more. For those who are interested, I'll refer you to an article by Harriet Rubin from the June 4, 2007 issue of Publishers Weekly. The whole article is worth reading if you're a writer (and especially if you're a writer who gets defensive whenever anyone suggests cutting your "gems", as most newer writers do), but it's the paragraph in which Rubin mentions Victor Hugo that really rang true for me. It is a thrill when you see what your editor is suggesting, and you know, no matter how much it hurts to watch your words fall away, that she's exactly right.

So now I'm back to working on Book 2, and I couldn't be happier, because the story and the characters have really been quite active in my mind all summer, but I had to shoo them away. But my girls are back in school, I'm back at my workshop, and I have longer blocks of time to write, so if you send me an email or a comment and don't hear back right away, just know that I'm tucked away, writing.

Finally, last topic for the day: Africa. (I had other topics when I started, but that headache is making even the blog seem like an uphill battle, so I'll save them for another day -- a day, hopefully, sooner than three months from now). Rick and I traveled to Africa this summer to celebrate our 20th anniversary. We went to Kenya, Tanzania, and Zanzibar, an island just off the Tanzania coast. So many people have been kind enough to ask about our trip, and I really appreciate that. But what's odd is that I find myself somewhat reluctant to talk about it much. I'm not sure why that is. I think there are several reasons, really. For one, the experience just feels very special to me, and I want to keep it to myself, as strange as that sounds. It's as if, by talking about it, I somehow diminish it. And that leads me to the second reason. I honestly feel that I lack adequate words to describe what I saw and how I felt. This too must sound strange coming from a writer, but I mean verbally. I do intend to eventually write about Africa, whether for my own eyes or for others to read, and hopefully I can do it justice, but it's the talking about it that trips me up. I resort to just saying: "Go." There are a lot of misconceptions about the place, and really, it's hard to dispel them in a short "how was your vacation" type of discussion. Indeed, I feel like I just barely scraped the first layer of my own ideas of what it would be like, and I'm anxious to go back and dig much deeper. Until I can manage that, I'm doing a lot of reading. I'll post some recommendations in a later entry. So that's it on Africa, for now, except a note about the picture above (only one of about 1400 that I took while there!): no one fed the little guy; he climbed into a Land Rover and helped himself to the cookie you see in his hand!

Like Being a Fly on the Wall

I had the wonderful opportunity on Monday evening to attend a book group meeting where the book being discussed was . . . drum roll, please . . . Best Intentions, written by yours truly. Now, I have attended a few book group meetings in the past at which my book was discussed, but in those instances the attendees were all friends of mine. In this case, the book had been recommended to the group by a friend, but otherwise I had no connection to the group.

It was a great experience. All of the women appeared to have read the book quite closely (indeed, one member had tabbed certain pages with Post-It notes!), and they were quite passionate about their opinions. I loved listening to them discuss Jack, the protagonist of the novel, and I found it very interesting to hear so many differents views about the choices he makes along the way. It was also satisfying to know that readers do pick up on the subtle things -- this particular group was very attuned to how one line of dialogue here, or a small action there, affected the meaning and tone of a particular scene. They were the enthusiatic and engaged readers that every writer hopes for!

Thanks to Leanne and Melinda, and all the other ladies who participated!

Great books I've read lately . . .

I have no idea why I didn't discover this writer earlier, but I'm hooked on Paul Watkins after just one book and I can't wait to read more of him. I just read The Story of My Disappearance and it was fantastic.

Other books I've read recently and highly recommend:
The Great Gatsby (okay, that's obvious, but I just reread it for the first time in years, and I just appreciated it so much more than I did back when I read it in high school).
The Tortilla Curtain, by T.C. Boyle (should be required reading for Floridians and Southern Californians -- but would benefit anyone who thinks they have the whole illegal immigration thing figured out)
Water for Elephants, by Sara Gruen (when I read the synopsis, I was skeptical - a novel with a circus setting just didn't appeal to me -- but I was wrong. It's a great read.)

DMB and other Online things

For those of you sick of my constant references to the Dave Matthews Band, you may want to surf elsewhere . . . (although there are two "non-DMB" items at the end).

For the rest of you:

1. I came across a piece written by a college student, Patrick Snyder, about how it's become trendy to bash the band, and why he believes these so-called critics are wrong. I really enjoyed his piece (and I wrote him to tell him so*), because he was able to put into words that which I hadn't been able to. I also think, given his youth, he showed a lot of maturity, because at his age it's sometimes hard to speak out and say you like something when it's no longer "cool" to do so. Here's the link to his piece if you're interested: Patrick Snyder's excellent article in defense of the Dave Matthews Band.

2. Now, having said all that, I must also add that Dave has broken my heart . . . Why is that, you ask? Well, let me first say that I listened to a lot of DMB while writing Best Intentions. I'm the first to admit that I listen to a lot of DMB anyway, of course, but the band certainly played a part in cranking up the ol' muse each day during the time I wrote the book. Anyway, I wanted to use a small segment of lyrics from a song called "Seek Up" for my epigraph. (In layman's terms, an epigraph is that little quote you sometimes see on its own page, before the novel begins, that sort of sets up the theme, etc.) I did my research, found out who managed the rights to the lyrics, and sent off my request for permission. For months I waited, receiving an e-mail every once in a while from the contact person telling me she didn't have an answer yet. Because I still didn't have an answer by the time the book was set to go to print with my first publisher, I gave up and instead chose the Lord Jeffrey quote that you'll find in the book, and also on my website.

Then, lo and behold, the Macmillan deal comes through, and I realize, "hey! I have another window of opportunity to see if I can get permission to use the "Seek Up" lyrics!" So I write to the contact again, explaining the situation, hoping that with a large, well-known and very reputable publisher, I might have a better chance of obtaining a positive response. After all, DMB is known among their fans for their generosity -- not only with respect to charitable causes, but with their music in general. This is a band that lets fans tape the live shows -- and in fact provides a special spot and set-up at the concerts to assist them with this effort. So I'm thinking, if only I could ask Dave directly, I know he'd grant the permission . . . But we all know that is never going to happen . . . So I put my faith in the bureaucratic route to obtaining permissions. . .

Well, this time the answer came back promptly, and the response was "no" -- no explanation or reason given -- just a simple "Unfortunately, the publisher of "Seek Up" is unable to fulfill this request. Thank you for your interest in the music of Dave Matthews Band and best wishes with your project." I sent off my polite "thanks anyway" but inside I was not too happy. I mean, I've spent a lot of money on this band -- I mean A LOT OF MONEY. CDs, concert tickets, plane tickets, hotel rooms, etc. I always joke that if I was young, single, and childless, I'd probably be a groupie (do groupies even exist anymore?). I deserve to be able to use these lines, right? Is it really asking much to want to use ten lines from a song that the average person has never heard of. ("Seek Up" is not one of the band's songs that receives radio play.)

As a writer, I've received many, many rejections, and they always sting, each and every one. And this one stung the most. I considered breaking every CD in protest, never buying another concert ticket, canceling my membership in the Warehouse, all that "cleansing" stuff that is supposed to make one feel better. I even seriously considered my husband's suggestion (made jokingly, I think), that in the Acknowledgements section of the book, I add a little special note to Dave -- sort of a "thanks for nothing." But no, I'm a bigger and better person than that. In fact, I believe I've actually come to terms with this biggest rejection of all. How do I know? Let's just say I'll still be in the audience when the band takes the stage at the MGM in Las Vegas later this month, screaming with pleasure when the first note is played, singing along to every song, dancing in the aisles . . . Some things never change. . .

Okay, now let's move on to the non-DMB items:

1. My daughters and I have become addicted to a Podcast called Dylan's Couch. The creator is a 13 year old boy, and this kid is really funny in a sweet, self-deprecating way. (Not to mention his theme song is catchy and sticks in your head long after you've watched the latest episode). He's the kind of kid that I'd be okay with one of my daughters bringing home one day (several years from now, that is!). If you've got pre-teens or thereabouts (mine are 12 and 14), you've got to show this to them. It's a hoot! (FYI, the link above takes you to his website, but you can also access the episodes on YouTube -- the picture is bigger there, for some reason, and that makes the overall effect stronger).

2. In reference to the asterik above: Readers, please know that writers are an incredibly insecure bunch, and we love to hear when someone likes something we've written. (Now, if you don't like it, please keep that to yourself.) (Um, just joking.) So when I read something I like, I've gotten in the habit of writing to the person and letting them know. I even once wrote to Frank McCourt (author of Angela's Ashes), and though it was for a slightly different reason which I'll blog about someday, even he responded. (Hmm, maybe if I wrote directly to Dave about those lyrics . . . but I digress . . .) So I think the lesson here (if there is a lesson) is that us writers love to hear from you readers! Don't be shy!

The Genesis of a Short Story

One of my older short stories, "Flying Lessons," was just published at the on-line literary magazine, Hamilton Stone Review. The story was always one of my favorites -- I had a lot of fun writing it, and I enjoyed hanging out with my characters. In 2000, Glimmer Train reinforced my good feelings about it when they picked it as a finalist for the journal's Short Story Award for New Writers. But it was long, and that made it hard to find a publisher. Most journals have guidelines limiting word count, and at 7500 words, my story was way over the average limit of 3000 to 3500 words. So I'm especially grateful to Hamilton Stone Review for being willing to publish it.

A lot of people read it and see the similarity between Ricky's family situation and the real life family of my husband Rick. In the story, brothers Ricky and Joe live with their divorced mother and their grandma. My husband Rick and his brother also come from divorced parents, and their grandma lived with them growing up. Joe is a musician; my husband's brother is a musician. But before anyone gets the idea that I've contradicted my earlier post below, and that this story isn't fiction, let me give you a glimpse into a writer's mind (or at least this writer's mind) to see how we sometimes come up with story ideas.

In "Flying Lessons," the real "story behind the story" (as I like to say) is the character of Lisa. Now, it's true that my brother-in-law dated a lot of girls with the name of Lisa (in fact, he married and later divorced one of them). My husband once told me a funny anecdote about one of these Lisas (not the one he married), about how she was um, how should I say. . . clear throat . . . noisy, and how their quiet, unassuming grandma once remarked on this trait at the dinner table. Now, moving to another family -- mine -- I also remembered one of my own brothers dating a beautiful girl who was Israeli, and who did, in fact, have to return to Israel to serve in the armed forces. So the Lisa in "Flying Lessons" started as sort of a basic composite of these two girlfriends, and then I used the relationship between the brothers as my structural foundation because I find such relationships so, so interesting. (You'll see more brotherly dynamics in Best Intentions, too). To my knowledge, neither of the girls upon whom I based Lisa was a pilot -- the details about flying come from my own experience as a pilot. And everything else that happens in the story -- well, you'll have to blame that on what goes on in my crazy little brain . . .

So that's about it. Does the story have some real life components to it? You bet. So is it still fiction? Without a doubt.

I hope you'll check it out and let me know how you like it.

Idle Musings . . .

There's this columnist who writes for the Calendar section of the Orlando Sentinel on Fridays -- he calls himself Commander Coconut. I love this guy. When I'm reading the paper, I usually find myself muttering things out loud, most often in the form of invectives directed at some politician, or generalized grumblings over the state of the world. But with Commander Coconut, I smile and laugh and say things like "Yes!" or "Exactly!" or "I couldn't agree more!" His column is usually a bunch of musings about sundry things, many of which relate to the entertainment field: celebrities, movies, and what not. I'm not too big on pop culture -- my sense is that we're all victims of a pop culture overload. But I like Commander Coconut so much, I think, because despite our generational differences (I suspect, though I'm not certain, that he is much older than I), I tend to agree with many of his opinions. And many of his opinions tend to be contrary to popular opinion. And therein lies the attraction . . . Anyone who really knows me, knows, at heart, I am a contrarian.

So, in honor of Commander Coconut, I give you some of my own musings (some pop culture related, some not, some contrary, some not).

1. Am I the only one who doesn't think Ugly Betty is all that ugly? I mean, just because Hollywood puts glasses and braces on a girl doesn't automatically make her ugly. Anyone can see that underneath the appliances is a decent looking actress. Somehow, I think if they'd used a truly ugly girl, the show would have had more meaning.

2. Do you think the radio stations were paid to start playing "Bad Day" over and over again just before the new season of American Idol started? The song had been played to death last year, and it seemed to have finally gone away, but then I noticed that in the weeks running up to the new season, it had been resurrected.

3. I finally got a chance to see "Crash" and "Hotel Rwanda" -- both were amazing, though depressing, movies. Probably need a good comedy next. Instead, The Constant Gardener is next in line on my Netflix list . . . oh well. I read the book and enjoyed it; hope the movie is just as good.

4. I have to admit I'm becoming a Stephen King convert. Now, I don't have a lot to go on yet. I've always been a bit anti-Stephen King -- based upon the movies made of his novels, I assumed his writing would be formulaic, and I never liked horror anyway. I first read him when he used to write a column for Newsweek, I think it was, and I found that I really enjoyed the columns and often agreed with what he had to say. Then, a while back, my husband brought home On Writing, a non-fiction book by King about his career, how it was derailed when he was hit by a car, and his subsequent struggle to begin writing again. It was really, really good; I found myself recommending it to everyone, not just to other writers. In it, he discusses some of his early novels, and I must admit, just reading about his process of writing those works piqued my interest. Recently, a neighbor loaned me one of his most recent novels, Lisey's Story, and though it's dense and at times hard to get through, I thoroughly enjoyed it. And, what shocked me the most, his writing is quite lyrical. Anyway, I'm hooked and looking forward to the next Stephen King novel -- which for me, may be his first. I might just have to start at the beginning.

5. If our government truly believes that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness," then can someone tell me why our current administration (and many citizens, judging by the letters to the editor I read in the paper) thinks that only Americans are entitled to these unalienable rights???? I mean, in my world, a human is a human is a human -- I don't care which country they come from . . . It's seems to me that we grant our citizens certain protections because we believe it's right to do so, not just because there's an official piece of paper that tells us we must . . . If it's right to do so, then isn't it right to do so for everyone . . .?

6. A lot of people ask me how I ever finished writing a whole novel. It reminds me of when I lost about 40 pounds some years ago, and everyone asked me how I managed to do it. It's as if everyone expects I will give them my "secret" for achieving these things -- as if they don't already know the answer. Of course, both in writing and in weight loss, people do want it to be easy -- why else would there be so many products sold that promise quick and easy results? But deep down, everyone already knows the answer. To write a novel, you just have to put your butt in the chair and write. Every day. On a regular basis. It's called discipline. Writing has to be like any other obligation. It can't be one of those things that you get to when you've finished everything else, because you'll never finish everything else, and you know it. You can't wait until you're "inspired" because as nice as that sounds, the inspiration usually hits after you've been writing for a while. Which brings me to the weight loss -- because, like writing, it's all a matter of discipline. The answer is easy: exercise more, eat less. It's that simple. It's not easy, but it is simple. (Now, before someone gets on me, I'm talking about the average, otherwise healthy person -- I know there are certain medical situations where this doesn't hold true). And you have to really want to do it, whether it's writing a book or losing weight. If you're going to write a book, it's best to actually enjoy the act of writing . . . Don't do it thinking you'll get rich or be invited to appear on Oprah. Such motivation won't sustain you for very long. As for losing weight, well, I can't ever admit to enjoy eating less -- I love food too much -- but I have experienced runner's high, and having gained back about 20 of those 40 pounds I lost, I will be the first to attest to how much better I felt when I was slimmer, fitter, and stronger. But -- and this brings me back to my original point (about already knowing the answer to the question) -- I know exactly why I gained those pounds back. I'd been exercising a lot less, and eating a lot more. It's as simple as that. So . . . today I laced up my sneakers and hit the pavement, and guess what? It felt good. And afterwards, I noticed, that banana on the kitchen counter sounded a lot more appetizing than a muffin . . .

Booksigning Pics

I'm happy to report that Rick found his camera! We thought it had been stolen, and needless to say, I was upset because it contained the only pictures from the Wilmington and Deland booksignings. Actually, the truth is that my friend Debbie found the camera -- unbeknownst to us, we'd left it at her house on Thanksgiving.

So, here I am outside the Ninth Street Book Shop in Wilmington, Delaware on November 10, 2006. To the right is my youngest daughter, Sally, and to the left is Gemma Buckley, owner of the book store.




At The Muse Book Store in Deland, Florida on November 18, 2006.

The Curse of the Dirty Fork

Okay, this has been on my mind for awhile, and it justs seems like a good topic for a blog. You know, sort of trivial but still fun to crab about. Pardon me if I seem to be rambling, but . . .

. . . have you ever noticed how, when you go into a restaurant nowadays, they only give you one fork? And then after you’ve finished your salad or appetizer or whatever it is that you’re eating before the main course, they come to get your dirty plate (on top of which sits your dirty fork – yes, dirty fork – and you’ve placed the dirty fork there for exactly that reason: it’s dirty, just like your plate), and the waiter or waitress says “would you like to keep your fork?” This DRIVES ME CRAZY! I mean, is there any conceivable reason you would want to put the fork (still wet or at least a little sticky from your mouth or your food or whatever) onto the table in front of you, which is probably teeming with bacteria and other gross things? Is this a reasonable question for a waiter to ask? Is there some reason they don't want to give you another fork? One that is clean? Is that asking too much? I can't imagine there is that much more labor involved in giving patrons two forks instead of one. Can you? After all, isn't that the typical place setting? Two forks, a knife, and a spoon? It takes every bit of restraint I can muster not to say “If I wanted to keep my fork, I would have kept my fork!” or worse things that I probably shouldn't put in a blog . . .

And what gets me even more -- and here's where we all have the power to reverse this God-awful trend -- is that everyone sheepishly says "oh, okay" and then retrieves the dirty fork from the plate before it is whisked away. Some people, I've noticed, have even begun removing the dirty fork from the dirty plate before the waiter has a chance to ask the question! As if, somehow, it's our job. It's our duty. If that's the case, maybe we should all start offering to use the same plate over and over. "Here, take my salad plate and just use it again for my steak." Perhaps I shouldn't even suggest this, lest I give someone an idea . . .

In my opinion, we've all been brainwashed, and somehow, made to feel guilty for [gasp!] wanting a clean fork for our next course. It didn't used to be like this. This is a fairly recent trend.

Well, I simply do not put up with it anymore. When the waiter asks the question: "Would you like to keep your fork?" -- I look him in the eye and politely state with a smile: "No, I'd like a clean one, please." He gets it. And I get my clean fork.

St. Petersburg Book Festival

The St. Petersburg Book Festival turned out to be a great event. I had the opportunity to meet some of the other authors from Port Town Publishing and get some pointers on this whole "marketing" aspect of the business. Even better, I spent a lot of time chatting with festival-goers, who were a friendly bunch. The picture on the left is courtesy of reader Phil Lieberman, one of my first fans, I hope!

I know Florida is full of northern transplants, but I was still amazed at how many people I met who hailed from St. Louis (my hometown and the setting for Best Intentions). The Gateway Arch on the cover of my novel sure turned out to be a conversation starter!

Anyway, thanks to everyone who took a chance on a new writer and purchased the book. I'd love to hear from you after you read it -- let me know what you think.

Check back for some more pictures from the festival -- I hope to get them posted soon.

History of the Orlando Sentinel "Being There" Essay

Sometimes you can become published in the most unlikely ways.

Case in point: about two and a half weeks ago, I started back up with my writing workshop after having been away for about a year. (More on that in a later entry). Our second prompt of the day involved writing a feeling or emotion onto a small slip of paper, and then handing that word to the person at our left. The word I received was "peace." We were then instructed to write something that described the feeling or emotion, without ever mentioning the word in what we wrote. I wrote about a float trip I took on the Glen Canyon river in the fall of 2005. We all read our writing out loud, and to my pleasure, everyone guessed that my word was "peace." After class, the leader of our workshop, Jamie Morris, mentioned that my piece might be appropriate for some sort of travel publication. She suggested that I take the time to clean it up a bit and send it in. I was taken by surprise at her suggestion -- after all, the piece felt like a stream of consciousness journal entry of some sort -- but I told her I'd think about it.

A day or so later, when I had some free time to look at what I'd written with new eyes, I started thinking about where I might submit it. I checked the word count of the piece, and it came in at just over 450 words. I then checked the submission guidelines for the Orlando Sentinel's "Being There" feature -- 300 to 400 words. So I set to work to see if I could edit my work to under 400 words. There was a time several years back when I would have had trouble doing this -- but the experience of editing a 700 page manuscript down to 424 pages has made me an expert at tossing words and tightening sentences!

About an hour later, I'd succeeded at cutting the piece down to 399 words, and I'd even added the missing word from the original -- peace. I drafted a brief cover letter, and with the click of a key stroke, submitted the piece to the Sentinel.

The next day I received a response that the paper wanted to publish my piece. I was thrilled! I think this was probably the fastest I'd ever received an acceptance -- it's usually the rejections that come so swiftly!

The piece can be found in the Travel section of today's (October 1, 2006) Orlando Sentinel, and it can also be viewed online for a limited time.

The moral of the story? A good writing workshop is a wonderful thing . . . it can motivate you to do more than just put pen to paper. It can help a writer to see potential in things that might have otherwise been delegated to the bottom of the desk drawer . . . Thanks, Jamie!

No, You're Not In It

Probably the most frequent question I hear from friends and family regarding my novel is: "So, am I in it?" The second is: "Is it autobiographical?" The answer to each is no (except for one minor exception -- see below) and no.

First of all, most writers prefer to remain friends with their friends, and as for family -- well, we at least want to be able to show our face at the dinner table next Thanksgiving. Although the idea of showing up as some character in a novel may seem appealing, it is the rare individual who is actually pleased when he reads how the writer portrays him. I mean, really, most novels are not about happy, perfect people, right? The characters must have flaws (and sometimes those flaws are really big ones!) in order to be interesting. Of course, we all know there are no perfect people, but that still doesn't stop your friends from expecting you to portray them as such in whatever you write . . . Most writers are very familiar with certain horror stories about what happens when you don't -- think Pat Conroy and his book "The Great Santini." Having a bestseller subsequently made into a movie sounds great and all, but I'm just not sure it's worth the exile he reportedly suffered. So, it's best to stay away from modeling your characters on people you know. No matter what you do, they won't like it.

That being said . . . there is one very minor character in my novel who is based on someone I know, but I've already forewarned the person. I believe this particular person knows himself/herself well, and also has a pretty good idea of his/her reputation (both in the eyes of admirers and detractors), so I don't think my portrayal will be surprising nor will it offend. I fit into the "admirer" category, so I consider my portrayal of this person to be favorable. I hope my "model" agrees!

As for the second question, is it autobiographical? The best way to answer this is to remind readers that this is a novel. My handy Merriam-Webster pocket dictionary defines "novel" as "a long invented prose narrative dealing with human experience through a connected sequence of events." Key word -- invented. Autobiographies and memoirs are both completely different beasts, and indeed, it's the rare person (I believe) who has an interesting enough life to write a whole book about it! Of course, all writers will admit to borrowing from their personal experiences to some extent or another -- the 'ol "write what you know" -- but what makes being a novelist so much fun, in my opinion, is the ability to tell the story as I see fit. I like to compare the act of writing to going to the movies, or dreaming. When I write, I get to immerse myself in a whole different world for a few hours each day, and even better, I get to decide what happens. (Or sometimes, my characters decide for me.) And though it's true I tend to stick to the types of people and places I know, and indeed sometimes I use little details that come straight from life as I know it, these things are what I would call my framework for the larger story I decide to tell.

So, when you don't see yourself in my novel, I hope you'll forgive me. Just chalk it up to the fact that I value my relationship with you -- whatever that may be!

My Website's Up

I'm happy to report that my website is up and running. Check it out at www.julie-compton.com. Use the link at the site to send me an email and let me know what you think. And of course, I hope you'll buy the book! :-)

I've been drafting "thoughtful" posts the last several days for this blog, but life has been so crazy the past few days that I haven't had time to finish and publish them . . . Soon, soon. But for now it'll have to just be my mindless musings . . .

Went to my second DMB (Dave Matthews Band) show of the summer this past Wednesday, in Tampa. I went with two of my girlfriends and we met up with another friend from Jacksonville -- a gal who I met for the first time last year in Tampa for the same show. Life's interesting that way. We didn't know anything about each other (other than the fact that we're close in age and we're both big DMB fans), but that was enough to convince us to take a chance and attend the concert together. (Neither had anyone else to go with for that show.) We had a blast, and now it seems to be turning into an annual event. She went on the cruise, too.

What's even weirder is that one of the other gals was a DMB fan also, yet despite the fact that I've known her now about two years, I only recently learned this about her.

Anyway, we had a lot of interesting discussions during the pre-concert parking lot tailgating, and I'm sure I'll eventually get to them in my posts. One, I'll mention now, was our belief that you're never to old to enjoy a good concert . . . I get tired of reading reviews about DMB shows, and they always mention the "college-age" crowd. Yet if the reviewer really took the time to look around, he/she would find quite a mixed bag at the shows, in terms of age. Dave himself is approaching 40, and the band's been around now for enough years that the early fans have grown older with him . . .

More topics later . . . but here's a preview:
I'm reading a book called "The Sociopath Next Door." VERY interesting . . . and it's giving me a zillion ideas for stories . . . Now if only I can find a few hours to actually sit down and write something longer than a blog posting.

In Defense of Toll Brothers

Check out one of my poems that was recently published in the Mom Writers Literary Magazine. Scroll down to the Poetry section; it's entitled "In Defense of Toll Brothers." Hope you like it.

Book Publishing Progress. . .

The book cover for my soon-to-be released (July '06) novel, Best Intentions, is ready to go. I'm very pleased with how it turned out. Thanks go to my designer (and friend) Kathy McLaughlin of IDesign. Check it out:

In the next few days, you'll be able to read the synopsis and an excerpt at Port Town Publishing, and pre-order a copy if you like what you see . . . and I hope you do!

Interesting Item about Democracy

My cousin forwarded this today to me by e-mail. I don't know who the original author is (if anyone knows, please let me know) but I thought it was interesting, scary, and confirms what I've been feeling in my gut for some time now . . .
____________________
How Long Do We Have?

About the time our original 13 states adopted their newconstitution, Alexander Tyler, a Scottish history professor at theUniversity of Edinburgh, had this to say about the fall of the Athenian Republic some 2,000 years prior:

"A democracy is always temporary in nature; it simply cannot exist as a permanent form of government. A democracy will continueto exist up until the time that voters discover they can vote themselves generous gifts from the public treasury. From that moment on, the majority always votes for the candidates who promise the most benefits from the public treasury, with the result that every democracy will finally collapse due to loose fiscal policy, which is always followed by a dictatorship."

"The average age of the world's greatest civilizations from the beginning of history, has been about 200 years. During those 200 years, these nations always progressed through the following sequence:
1. From bondage to spiritual faith;
2. From spiritual faith to great courage;
3. From courage to liberty;
4. From liberty to abundance;
5. From abundance to complacency;
6. From complacency to apathy;
7. From apathy to dependence;
8. From dependence back into bondage"

Professor Joseph Olson of Hamline University School of Law, St.Paul, Minnesota, points out some interesting facts concerning the 2000 Presidential election:
1. Population of counties won by: Gore: 127 million; Bush: 143 million.
2. Square miles of land won by: Gore: 580,000; Bush: 2,427,000.
3. States won by: Gore: 19; Bush: 29.
4. Murder rate per 100,000 residents in counties won by: Gore: 13.2; Bush: 2.1.

Professor Olson adds: "In aggregate, the map of the territory Bush won was mostly the land owned by the tax-paying citizens of this great country. Gore's territory mostly encompassed those citizens living in government-owned tenements living off government welfare."

Olson believes the United States is now somewhere between the "complacency & apathy" phase of Professor Tyler's definition of democracy, with some 40 percent of the nation's population already having reached the "governmental dependency" phase.

Pass this along to help everyone realize just how much is at stake, knowing that apathy is the greatest danger to our freedom.
_________________________________________________

On a final note, Professor Olson is just a tiny bit more optimistic than me -- I put us somewhere in the "apathy to dependence" phase!

I'm Getting Published!

Well, I guess I'm going to have to revise my profile . . . I'm no longer looking for an agent and/or publisher for my novel . . . Why's that?

I received an offer to publish my novel, Best Intentions!!!

When I first found out, I screamed so loud my kids thought I'd hurt myself. My husband was in Italy at the time on business (tough work, huh?), and because I didn't want to tell anyone else until I'd told him, I had to keep it bottled up inside me until I could reach him on the phone. Argh!

Release date is targeted for July 1, 2006. Check back -- I'll update as it moves forward. I hope to get the cover design posted when it's ready, with a blurb, etc.

I do want to add a quick thanks to my friend and former writing workshop leader in Philly, Alison Hicks. I don't think I would have ever finished this novel if it hadn't been for my participation in her workshops and her very inspiring critiques . . . Check out her site at www.philawordshop.com!

Dave Matthews and Friends Cruise

Here's a post I made on WeeklyDavespeak.
_________________________
From WeeklyDavespeak:

I dreaded looking at the message boards today, because I had such a GREAT time on the cruise and listening to everyone whine was getting old . . . I was so happy to see that most of the comments posted are positive.

Was it poorly organized? Yes.
Was the "private" island not really private, but just the well-known Paradise Island? Yes.
Did it take forever to catch the tenders over to the island? For some, yes. For others, no.
Were there long lines for things there shouldn't have been (drink/food tickets, and then the actual drink/food)? Yes.
Did the weather suck? Yes.
Did the weather really, really suck? Yes.

Did any of this ruin my COMPLETE AND UTTER ENJOYMENT OF SEEING DAVE????? NO WAY!!

We were on the Sovereign. We left around 4:15 to catch the 4:30 tender, and were on the island by 5:00. (Some friends were on later tenders, and it did take them much longer . . . but they nevertheless arrived before the concert started). After I stood in a long ticket line for a long time without even a few feet of forward movement, my husband got creative and paid someone at the front of the line to buy some tickets for us. The drink line was long, but moved relatively quickly. I was disappointed that the only drink choices were beer and wine -- I think the Atlantis could have made a killing if they'd served mixed drinks -- but hey, I was gonna see Dave -- I was happy. And when one of the tenders arrived carrying more fans, my husband got creative again and got on the tender after everyone had disembarked and bought a bottle of rum from the bartender on the tender. Problem solved!

There were a lot of angry people on the island because of the tender/drinks issues, but once the concert started, all appeared to be forgotten. There was Dave -- I mean, really, THERE WAS DAVE -- RIGHT IN FRONT OF US -- SO INCREDIBLY CLOSE! There wasn't a bad spot on the beach, and everywhere I looked people were singing, dancing, making new friends, just having a ball.

And then the rains came . . . and came . . . and came . . . I live in Florida, and have been through 2 hurricane seasons so far, and even I was amazed at the amount of rain that came . . .

But did it dampen our spirits?? NO WAY! For most of us, the rain just seemed to add to the wacky, craziness of the evening.

As Dave and the other musicians left the stage, many started to ditch the island to head back to the cruise ships, but others headed to the beer tents to weather the storm. Plastic bags were passed out for everyone to don, and in some tents, the vendors felt bad enough for us to hand out free beers. Despite being drenched and frozen to the bone, everyone in the tents was laughing and goofing and living it up. We had no intentions of bailing if and until someone came back out on the stage to tell us that the concert for over. Much time passed, and we were rewarded for our efforts . . . the rains let up, and some of us spied activity up on the stage. We took off from under the tents and ran to the stage just in time to see Dave coming out and taking a seat right at the edge with guitar in hand. Even when I was in the 2nd row of a concert at Madison Square Garden, I was not this close! It was absolutely amazing . . . .

The night continued -- we continued to sing and party as if the rain had never happened, except now we were wet but a lot closer to the stage!

When it ended, Dave kept making the comment that "maybe I'll have to 'get on the boats' . . .!" I knew then that he wouldn't just say that unless he intended to do it. This feeling was confirmed when after he left the stage, and everyone was screaming "one more song!", one of the stagehands said, "Don't worry, you'll see him again tonight" Wink, wink.

My friends and I were in the last boat to finally leave the island (yes, there was even a line to get off of the island at the end of the evening). But no one cared -- the partying continued. Some played in the water, despite the cold. We made more friends, took more pictures . . .

When we arrived back at the dock where the cruise ships were, we looked like lost refugees . . . As we entered the boat, we received hot chocolate, not beer (maybe that was the earlier groups who came back, or the Majesty folks?). One of the boat's officers was greeting us, and I asked him where Dave would be on the boat. He said "Dave's not staying on the boat" and I said, "I know, but where is he playing?" and he quietly said -- "Go to the Follies", which is the name of the largest music venue on the ship.

We returned to our rooms, took a quick hot shower to thaw our bodies, and headed to the Follies. The doors opened, we ran down to the front, and a bit later, we were once again rewarded for our troubles --- DAVE came on stage and it was like watching him in a small, smoky bar. ABSOLUTELY AMAZING. My only regret is that I didn't get a center stage seat, because he shook the hands of those in the center at the end. But I can't complain about my spot on the side -- still right in front of the stage. I'm still smiling . . . . Thank you, thank you, thank you, DAVE!! You proved you were everything I thought and MORE.

The next day was interesting, to say the least. At breakfast, you could tell just by looking at someone's face whether they'd seen the whole thing (all 3 parts) or not. Some people were pissed -- and I'm sure I would have been too -- but in the end, I think I would have blamed myself for not sticking it out. Yet even the angry people chilled as the day went on. They started playing DMB on the pool deck, and because we couldn't go to Coco Cay (because the seas were too rough), everyone ended up at the pool drinking and dancing and just being silly. I suspect we all had much more fun than we would have had on Coco Cay, where everyone probably would have split up. Instead, the whole ship (or a large part of it) partied together on the pool deck listening to Dave.

To all of you who were there, THANK YOU FOR CONTRIBUTING TO AN INCREDIBLE TIME! It'll take a lot to top this one . . .
Life handed us lemons, and some of us made lemonade . . . And boy oh boy, was it GOOD!

Whatever Happened to Dick Cheney????

Has anyone noticed how Vice President Dick Cheney seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth???

A check at www.whitehouse.gov/vicepresident reveals the last post about VP Cheney's activities was made on August 18, 2005. Before that, there were posts at least weekly, sometimes daily. With what has happened in New Orleans and surrounding areas, one would have thought he'd be in the news, touring locations affected by Hurricane Katrina. Is there something going on with him that the public is not being told? . . . . .

The Nature of Men

In just the past two days I've heard comments made by women I'm acquainted with regarding the nature of men. The first occurred in my writing group. As part of a writing prompt, we were asked to make a list of things people were afraid of. We read our lists out loud to one another, and of course the obvious fears were contained in many of our lists -- death, heights, flying, etc. One of the items I listed was commitment. This was also one of the items listed by a man in our group, who happened to read his list out loud before I read mine. When he came to this item on his list, one of the women in the group piped up "Only a man would come up with that fear." Most in the group laughed (and all but two members of the group are women), but I took issue with this (good-naturedly), because as I stated above, this item was also on my list. I don't think fear of commitment is unique to men; I have known both men and women who I could fairly say appeared to have a fear of commitment.

Then today I took a walk with a friend, who in the course of our discussion made the comment that men are "simple. They're basically beer and football." I took issue with this also. I know my own husband hates beer, and I can probably count on one hand the number of football games he's watched from start to finish. He's just not that kind of guy, and in fact, most of the guys I've ever been interested in weren't. Don't misunderstand. There's nothing wrong with a guy who likes beer and football, and indeed, I'm sure there are many who do and at the same time are quite complex men. My point is merely that there are many men out there who don't like these things, and I sometimes feel that women cause their own problems with men when they lump them all together into such categories. Just as I would hate for someone to assume all women like shopping and gossiping with their girlfriends, I don't think men appreciate being thought of as mere couch-potatoes.

I wonder if growing up with so many brothers has made me more sympathetic to men than the average women? It'd be neat to take a survey of the women who think like those I've mentioned above to see if they grew up with no brothers?

More mediating the battle of the sexes later. . .

Words or Phrases I Hate or Am Sick Of

There are some words and phrases I think are just so overused, or are used by people who are trying too hard. The ones that come to mind right now are:
1. absolutely (used in place of a simple "yes"; as in "Joe, is this issue important to you?" Joe: "Absolutely.")
2. edgy (someone define what this really means, please! Once you use this word to describe something, hasn't that thing already reached the point of not being "edgy" . . . ?)
3. hip (same here)
4. again (used often by executives who don't have something original to say, so they just repeat themselves; as in "Again, it's important to be a team player" or "Again, we need to think out of the box")
5. team player
6. out of the box
7. hunker down (remember, folks, I was in Florida during this past hurricane season)

More to come . . .