Posts tagged with “Authors”

TRAMBLINGS…

Wednesday, 6 January, 2010

Ha!  Two posts in one week. Am I on Ritalin or do I have something to tell you?  My episode of MERCY, “I Saw This Pig and Thought of You” airs tonight on NBC.  Go here for a clip.

In other news, I have a couple new blogs to hip you to and I hope you find a little something to take with your morning coffee.

DR. DOLEN’S DIVINATIONS.  Dolens Perkins-Valdez is the author of WENCH which sounds very intriguing. I ordered a copy yesterday.  You can read an excerpt by clicking on the See Inside feature on the Barnes & Noble sales page.

LIGHT-SKINNED-ED GIRL is the blog of author of HEIDI DURROW who wrote the upcoming THE GIRL WHO FELL FROM THE SKY.

BERNARDINE EVARISTO has a pretty straight forward blog and a book called BLONDE ROOTS. Neither the book or the blog lets you off easy.

JACQUELINE LUCKETT will be here soon to help me relaunch the Author Q&A series that was so successful and so much fun.  Also trying to get Miss Jackie (that’s what I call her in person) to kick off the second edition of What’s On Your Desk?  Miss Jackie is in the January issue of  ESSENCE looking like Five Million Bucks or as my mom used to say, “Looking sharp enough to shave with”.  See for yourself.

jackie

Told you!  Ain’t she something? She’s promoting SEARCHING FOR TINA TURNER.  I’ve already started ordering copies for friends and sending them across the country. Play it forward, baby. Play it forward.

Loving BOOK DWARF and the father-in-law’s poetry blog, IN DEFENSE OF THE BLUE. Get some culture. Head over there.

Lastly, SON HOUSE’S JOHN THE REVELATOR intrigues me to no end. I cannot get enough of this song.  Ya’ll know how I feel about the blues so as a welcome back…here’s a little taste.  Love how he lines up the line, “You know Christ had twelve a…postles.” Genius.

Enjoy the show tonight!

TRAMBLINGS

Tuesday, 21 April, 2009

Two new books coming down the pipe.  The authors have agreed to participate in the author Q&A and I am thrilled.

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HOLLYHOOD by Valerie Joyner hits stores on May 5, 2009 and I cannot wait.  I love that cover.  Saucy.  I am using saucy like a Bay Area native.  It doesn’t mean hot and sexy (though it is) but bad ass.  To use in a full-on Bay Area sentence.  “That book looks hella saucy.”  Check it out.  No, don’t check it out…BUY IT!  Valerie, by the way, is an ace from way back.  As if you couldn’t tell.  While writing THE DYING GROUND I talked to her at least six or seven times a day. My phone bill was ridiculous.  She was in Brooklyn and I was in Berkeley and this was way before unlimited long distance.  Actually, I went to work simply to pay the phone bills between me and Miss Val.  Most of the calls started like this, “Hey, Valerie, you got a second to listen to this paragraph?”  Went through the whole book that way.  I did the same with her writing.  A cool little system we had worked out.  Now folks are too grown and busy but I miss those days.  I ordered copies for all my sisters.  Plus, I had to get a couple extras to casually “drape around the house”.  And don’t think I’m not going to put them front and center whenever I’m in bookstores.

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KISS THE SKY by the always fabulous Farai Chideya.  Many of you know Farai from NPR’s News & Notes.  She’s a wonderful radio host but she’s also a kick-ass writer.  KISS THE SKY is the Essence Book of Month (check out page 67 of the issue with Michelle Obama and her mom on the cover) and I promise you, you have never met a protagonist like Sophie.  The book hits stores on May 12, 2009 but I already have a signed copy here in my house.  I read the book while in manuscript form.  Farai is a member of THE FINISH PARTY.  She started and finished her book while in the group and I so looked forward to the sessions when we got to hang out with Sophie and the colorful characters in her life.  KISS THE SKY is all kinds of wonderful. Trust. Me. And, seriously, I can’t believe you haven’t ordered it yet.

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The Finish Party met this past Saturday up in Oakland.  (That’s us in the October 2007 issue of O MAGAZINE).  We had a great session (minus one member this time) and then we went into San Francisco to see the Alonzo King’s Lines Ballet03-cal2010-1108-0356-2

By the way, that’s me and the Crown Prince in that picture.  Just kidding.  Besides resting my head on my shoulder there’s not a single thing I can do in that picture.  The show was amazing.  So impressive.

Anyway, there’s always more but I am hot as hell and trying not to scream.  It’s too early to be this hot so I am off to the library where the temperature is somewhere between ice cream truck and the arctic circle.

See ya…

TRAMBLINGS

Sunday, 22 February, 2009

Thanks to you lovely folks who made it here by hook or crook.  Appreciate the comments attached to the last post.  As you can see I changed the backdrop (or the theme) for the blog.  The first one was so boring but I could not figure out how to change the template. Since I came to WordPress from Network Solutions it made it all that much more difficult.  Don’t ask me why it just did.  My cousin, Rashunda Tramble, also known as the New Media Diva, walked me through the process.  From Switzerland!  We were on Facebook chat working it all out. I would tell her the problem in the chat window, then she’d tell me to send her a screen shot via email (she walked me through that too) and then she’d look at it, and tell me how to go to the next step.  Maybe she was pulling her hair out in Europe but I didn’t feel the shockwaves here.  She was kind and patient and it got done.  So glad.   So grateful.  This whole process ate up four days of my life. Four prime writing days because you just know those were the days I was going to create my masterpiece.  I just know it.

Okay, so I was playing this game on Facebook.  A very cool game where you get tagged and then you have to do something and tag other people. I never tag anyone because it smells too much like a chain letter.  But, once in awhile, I participate.  T. Greenwood (her latest novel TWO RIVERS is the first Book of the Month on the website) tagged me in a game of What Would Your Album Look Like In the Band You Never Had? Here’s how you play:

1 -Click  Here.  The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 – Click  Here. The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.

3 – Click  Here. Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 – Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.

My Album Cover

Winter Is So Strong In Me

The name of my band… List of Asteroids.  The Crown Prince, by the way, ended up in a band called Get  There. Their first album…Five Cent Nickel. That’s his album cover below.

Crown Prince's First Album

Crown Prince's First Album

My guess.  He had a nice little bar band. People came to see them play after work and on Sundays.  My band?  Arena Rock, baby.  We tore it up.  We met because I let him, and his guys, play the opening set when we blew through his town.  He had me laugh.  The rest is history.

Next time…

TRAMBLINGS

Monday, 16 January, 2006

TRAMBLINGS. . .

Had a mini-reunion at the CASA DEL MAR in Santa Monica with a group of college girlfriends. We met at Casa Del Mar, an elegant old hotel on the beach, and sat around the fire until we heard the foreign (to me) words, “Last Call.” It was nice. We reminisced, laughed, caught up with one another and shared pictures. Hopefully, we’ll get a bigger group together in late summer but I loved talking about our old sorority days. It was nice to see that a fun group of girls turned into a great bunch of women. Though I have to admit that I feel like I’ve been at least four different people since my years at CSULB.

My post on the 11th got a tremendous response from my fellow authors. I heard from quite a few who shared their experiences with “friends” who weren’t as supportive as they’d hoped. JOSHILYN JACKSON even talks a little about the curious souls who like to forward along bad news. I had one of those myself. This person couldn’t wait to send along any and everything that was slightly negative about THE DYING GROUND and THE LAST KING. But if either book garnered a great review, or a positive mention somewhere, I got radio silence. There’s never been any acknowledgement of the piece in PEOPLE magazine which is odd because they subscribe. And, in a funny aside, People meant way more to my mother’s friends than the New York Times, Washington Post and Boston Globe combined. Go figure.

Last week I picked up THE WRITER’S DESK by Jill Krementz. Krementz photographed the collection and there is an introduction by John Updike. Great book. I’d love to see an updated version of this. Krementz photographed writers at their desks. Interesting to see who works with the bare minimum, who works in clutter, who works with animals or standing up. Each photo is accompanied by a short essay in which the writer talks about their work, their process, etc. I particularly liked Bernard Malamud’s take on it all. “You write by sitting down and writing. There’s no particular time or place – you suit yourself, your nature. How one works, assuming he’s disciplined, doesn’t matter. If he or she is not disciplined, no sympathetic magic will help. The trick is to make time – not steal it – and produce the fiction. If the stories come, you get them written, you’re on the right track. Eventually everyone learns his or her own best way. The real mystery is to crack you.” Sound advice for aspiring writers.

Here’s Peter Matthiessen. . .

“I am not really conscious of the reader. That’s not arrogance, it’s just that I don’t think that way. You do your best work when you’re not conscious of yourself. That’s what’s so exhilarating about it – you’re out of yourself.”

Susan Sontag. . .

“Getting started is partly stalling, stalling by way of reading and of listening to music, which energizes me and also makes me restless. Feeling guilty about not writing…But once something is really under way, I don’t want to do anything else.”

Toni Morrison. . .

“I, at first, thought I didn’t have a ritual, but I remembered that I always get up and make a cup of coffee while it’s still dark – it must be dark – and then I drink the coffee and watch the light come. . . And I realized that for me this ritual comprises my preparation to enter a space that I can only call nonsecular.”

Willie Morris. . .

“I am an afternoon writer. I draw sustenance from my strange nocturnal dreams.”

Saul Bellow. . .

“I feel that art has something to do with the achievement of stillness in the midst of chaos. A stillness which characterizes prayer, too, and the eye of the storm. I think that art has something to do with an arrest of attention in the midst of distraction.”

Now, there should be something there for everybody.

Until next time. . .

TRAMBLINGS

Thursday, 15 September, 2005

NEWSFLASH! NEWSFLASH! The fabulous ladies (HARLEY JANE KOZAK, NANCY MARTIN, SUSAN MCBRIDE and SARAH STROHMEYER) over at LIPSTICK CHRONICLES invited me over for a Q&A that will run over the next couple days. Check out the site, stay awhile, then bookmark it. LIPSTICK CHRONICLES is one of my favorite stops on the web. I love all their books but I bet Harley Jane would be surprised to know that Annabelle and Tony, in my opinion, had one of the most kick-ass love stories of all time. Now, how many of you know what THAT means?

My 10-year-old niece, whom I’ve talked about on this blog, entered 5th grade two weeks ago and she’s currently swimming eye-ball deep in the shark infested waters of MEAN GIRLS. I linked to the movie but I don’t think TINA FEY’S screenplay came even close to covering how damaging cliques can be. I remember watching an episode of OPRAH where guests talked about violence amongst teenage boys. Oprah responded with a bewildered look then asked, “Girls don’t have that, do they?” The female reporter snapped back, “No, girls just tease each other into anorexia.” The audience laughed, as did Oprah, but I was able to see flickers of pain on the faces of a few women. Being a “mean girl” or a HEATHER (depending on your generation), being the victim of one, or being an outsider kid can make or break the creative spirit.

My heart aches for my niece who has taken to coming home and climbing into bed at three o’clock in the afternoon. She’s in the very strange position of being the girl whose presence decides which group is in or out. (Now, there’s an interesting premise for a story). These social maneuvering are awkward in elementary school, clunky in junior high and down to a stealth-like science in high school. She’s trying to figure out – with that big heart of hers – how to make everyone happy. Luckily, she’s very open in explaining to my sister, and her husband, what’s going on and how it makes her feel. I imagine that it would be ten times worse if you didn’t feel that she could turn to her parents.

Now, as an adult looking back, it’s easy to recognize that the behavior of these girls comes from a deep well of insecurity, but as a child when you’re smack-dab in the middle of the drama it feels dark and all-consuming. My niece’s week started off strong until two separate cliques noticed she was making a splash with the boys in the upper grades. (I don’t remember that crap starting so early but it’s been a long time since I was 10 years old). Once that fact was established it was no longer acceptable for her to play with the smart, shy, respectful group of playmates she’s had since third grade. My sister loves these girls and has encouraged her daughter’s friendship with them. Unfortunately, they’re not in the same class this year which put her on a collision course with the sharks.

Yesterday it came to a head when two separate groups marched up to where she was playing with her old friends. My niece greeted them but was cut-off by one of the leaders (isn’t there always a leader, or Queen Bee in millennium parlance) who said, “Why are you playing with those girls? You can either come with us or go with them.” At that point Queen Bee pointed to the other group. A rival clique, just so you understand, but one that was much more socially acceptable. “You have to choose. Us or them.” How scary is that? My niece said that the confrontation made her stomach hurt. She tried to explain that she liked the friends she had but that wasn’t good enough. The girls told her to choose anyway. It made her cry and it sent me spiraling backwards in time.

From kindergarten to eighth grade I had the same group of girlfriends. We were thrown together mostly out of proximity to one another and not because of genuine love or affection. We spent a lot of time together but towards the end of the friendship, I remember waking up exhausted at the idea of spending the day with them. Their main pastime seemed to be “talking shit” about whichever girl wasn’t there that day, or using deep, dark secrets to drill into the wounds of the most vulnerable.

Not my thing, then or now, and I was grateful to escape into the world of books. I read constantly, like my life depended on it and maybe it did. My creative life certainly depended on protecting myself from these girls because even when I was most enamored with the Queen Bee herself, I was protective enough of my writing to keep it away from her. None of them ever read a word. Once, just before I broke away, I wiled away an entire summer reading book after book after book. The phone rang constantly with invitations to hang out, go to a movie or shopping. I refused them all, preferring to lounge with a book or the “novel” I had started. Finally, at the end of a slow, hot summer, I looked up long enough to try out for a city wide cheerleading squad that supported a local football team.

Now, I understand how absurd it sounds that I escaped a group of mean girls by becoming a CHEERLEADER but that’s exactly what happened. Mainly, I broke the connection which was the most important event of that summer. Once I made the squad, I was away from the neighborhood for hours at a time which meant my old group faded further and further into the background. How did the barracudas respond? The only way they knew how. The set out to “kick my ass”. It was the only course of action for a deserter. I had to pay. Be made an example.

So, for one afternoon, they placed repeated phone calls trying to lure me outside and away from my parents. (Isn’t that what predators do in the wild?). They used their sweetest voices to tell me that they missed me. They invited me to join them on the hill. I refused. For one simple reason. I was almost at the end of a really good book and I didn’t want to put it down. That was the one and only reason I didn’t go. I didn’t have any premonitions about my undoing and I wasn’t afraid of them. I was just too wrapped up in the book I was reading to stop. Saved from an ass-whipping by a book! (Why don’t teachers and librarians play up that angle? It would make a great poster).

Anyway, just as the sun was going down and the final girl had made her plea another one called to tell me it was all a set up. I was shocked. I hadn’t suspected a thing, and I’d moved so far past those shenanigans in three weeks, that I felt like I’d been body slammed into a pool of ice water. Or reality. On top of all that I was hurt. Just hurt down to my core. While it was true that we were drifting apart, it was also true that those girls had been my friends for years. How could they do that? In the hours that followed I made the decision to be ruthless in my selection of friends from there on out. I remembered all the times my body, and stomach, clenched up while I was around them. I remembered what it felt like to be constantly on alert, waiting for a shoe to drop, or to simply join them outside one day and learn that it was my turn to be ostracized. I never could figure out the criteria for being exiled but I did know what it felt like not to speak up when it happened to someone else.

Do I exaggerate? Possibly. But too many friends have recollections of similar behavior and the fact that my niece is experiencing a variation means that my version is pretty damn close to the truth. After talking to my sister I sat down and wrote my niece a five page letter. Her life is just too big to feel so small. I started off by catching her up on Kobe, then I talked about the excitement of 5th grade and the upcoming years, then I went on to discuss our trip to Hawaii one day, her future travels and her desire to be (in no particular order) to be a fashion designer, writer, director and artist. Then, I told her a story about making sure that she protects her “creative spirit”. That creativity, whether it be through painting, writing, singing or dancing has saved, and sustained the life of many people and I want her to understand that creative gifts are special. I tried to address her circumstance in 10-year-old terms without talking down to her. Here’s what I said.

“Imagine that you’re a traveler on a long, long journey. One night, just before a storm hits, you arrive at a lonely castle at the top of the hill. Tired, wet, cold, and hungry you make your way to the front door. The castle is empty but there’s a big, raging fire in a fireplace that takes up an entire wall. There’s also a chair. The fire is enough to keep you warm and also to heat a little food. You feel comfortable, warm and safe so you eat and fall asleep. You wake up in the middle of the night to find that another traveler has joined you. This traveler has brought in more wood for the fire and you fall back asleep because it feels so nice. You wake up one more time, just before dawn, and a third traveler is there as well. This ones comes in with a wet coat and thows it on the fire. The fire is out and all of a sudden it’s wet and cold and dark again. Now, if you think about that castle as your life you want to be careful as to who you let inside. And if the fire is your creativity then you only want people around it that will feed and nourish those flames.”

A little simplistic with serious Dr. Phil/Oprah undertones but she and I have always communicated in stories. (Remind me to tell you the one she told me about a peacock). When I heard about her experiences I immediately saw dark and light which were the words she used to describe what happened. Those girls from my old clique always made me feel as if I were inside an underground cave. The friends I made after the split, the ones I wrote about just last week, have always represented lightness and ease. I met them as a freshman in high school and I shared my writing with them from the beginning. They’re still my friends. We went to our reunion together last month and we encourage each other (stoke the flames) every single day.

And where are the other girls? I have no idea. And, that’s what I want her to know. I want her to know that by the time she’s my age those girls will have no significance in her life. And here’s what else I want her to know. I want her to know that if she lets the girls all the way in, to the place inside herself that she should protect the most, she’ll feel their presence for years, and years and years to come. The girls may go away but the damage will linger. So I ask that she indulge her aunt the simplistic story about the travelers and find a really, really good book even if she has to write it herself.

Until next time. . .

TRAMBLINGS

Friday, 9 September, 2005

TESS GERRITSEN has a great blog entry about the humiliation she suffered at the hands of Hawaiian booksellers. This was particularly interesting to me because I just completed a Q&A for the ladies over at LIPSTICK CHRONICLES and I answered a similar question. I told a funny story (I hope it’s funny) about a humiliating experience in D.C. JOSHILYN JACKSON has a story of her own (scroll to the bottom of the page) and I know there are more out there.

Whenever I get together with authors the discussion always turns to the bizarre things that happen, and are done to you, while on the road. Most of the time I can laugh it off, only once was I scared. The most consistent thing that happens to me is that there is always someone in the audience (usually an aspiring writer) who wants to know, in a very roundabout way, how much money I make. I never answer the question because, in my humble opinion, you’re a nutbar if you write novels or short stories solely for financial gain. I don’t say that because I am a LITERARY SNOB (okay, it’s mean to post his picture but I think that chucklehead single handedly took down Oprah’s book club) but because it is so hard to make a living solely as a writer. If you’re in it solely for the pay day ransom notes might be a better option. (A shitty, bitter agent once said that to a friend).

Hmmm. Can you tell I had a rough week?

I got a disappointing piece of news today. A project I worked on for the past five months (not the book) died a quick death this afternoon. One phone call and the possibility of getting paid for it evaporated in three sentences. This is the nature of the beast but it stung like a m*th**f*c**r. I got the call at one o’clock and I gave myself until sundown to feel bad about it. But in my initial moments of heartache I wrote an email to The Girlfriends about how emotionally and financially frustrating this business can be. Their emails of support were amazing and they worked to get me back into shape way before sundown.

D.P. wrote a quick response that drew on humor, spirituality and emotional health. Just in case I was thinking about hanging up my pen and paper she reminded me that “while you were a decent cheerleading coach, you are a better writer.” That made me laugh out loud. I forgot that coach was one of the 9,000 jobs I’ve held in this life time. I coached a junior high squad for two years when I was fifteen and sixteen years old. The Crown Prince had never heard this and I’d forgotten myself. He tried not to laugh when I told him but he did ask what my approach, theory and philosophy had been while coaching. I said, “Don’t chew gum, don’t smoke in your uniform, wear deodorant.” He finally started laughing because a) I am a horrible dancer b) I was never a gymnast c) I’m bossy. It was truly another life, one that is really hard to imagine all these pounds later but it was fun.

S.W.’s email was compassionate, sweet and very heartfelt. I could tell that she felt my pain. She reminded me that I am living my dream despite the ups and downs and that I am “one of the only people I know who doesn’t say “what if” because you are doing it.” Okay, that made me cry because I was already on the verge and, as you know, I am a big-ole crybaby. Plus, it motivated me to get back to work. And she called me later to check in despite the fact that she’s going through major turmoil in her own life. Her call reminded me why I gave myself a feel-bad-deadline in the first place. It would be too indulgent and blind to think I have it bad because of one rejection when people are still searching for their family members on the Gulf Coast.

And, L.P., always straight to the point simply said. “Screw ‘em. Someone else will buy it.” And even if they don’t I plan to write it anyway. What I learned in the middle of crafting this project (a pilot for a one-hour television drama) is that I liked the characters, the situation and the set up. The network passed but I’m so excited I plan to write it on spec. If it sales great, if not it will be a pretty decent writing sample.

Also, when I peeled back the layers, I realized that my emotional response came from the fact that a sale would have alleviated a lot of financial pressure and not because the network rejected my idea. Now how crazy is it to get upset over a “possible payday”. That’s like crying in 7-11 because your Scratch ticket didn’t have the winning Lotto numbers. Doesn’t make sense so I can’t indulge it.

Besides that CALVIN & HOBBS are back. And REGGIE has a friend who has escaped capture.

Lastly, the DREAM CENTER in L.A.’s Echo Park could use the following items for Hurricane victims.

1) Gift cards from major retailers.
2) Dressers for every room (30-40)
3) 40 2.7 cu fridges
4) 30 floor fans
5) 40 large suitcases
6) 40 large plastic storage bins
7) Televisions with built-in DVD/VCR’s.
8) 50 computers and flat screen monitors.

ERIC GARCETTI posted an account of his time at the Dream Center. I haven’t linked to HABITAT FOR HUMANITY before so here you go.

Until next time. . .

TRAMBLINGS

Thursday, 8 September, 2005

S.E. HINTON (remember her?) was interviewed in the New York Times yesterday. THE OUTSIDERS (sold when Hinton was 17) was one of my favorite novels as a teenager. When the MOVIE came out, in 1983, I stood in line with my girlfriends to see it. I clearly remember going to South Shore Theater on the beach in ALAMEDA the first Friday it came out. Apparently, Francis Ford Coppola has re-cut the movie and changed the score so I am curious to watch it again after all this time.

Anyway, reading about Hinton and thinking about the movie made me miss Alameda so I searched out a couple pictures. THIS is one of my favorite streets on the island. It’s long and wide and the trees canopy in the spring and summer. One of my best girlfriends, D., lived on this street while we were in high school and I used to love walking home with her. I wish I’d had the sense to photograph some of my favorite places because the TOWN has changed so drastically the past ten years.

Reading the article about Hinton brought back a lot of memories. It was also interesting to hear her talk about the decision to lead a private writing life. I admire her for that but I have a friend (a recently published novelist) who wanted to do the same thing and her publishers told her no. Flat out. No. She had to tour, she had to do interviews and make herself available to book clubs, reporters, readers and the like.

Maureen Gibbon, who wrote a beautiful novel a few years back, is an extremely private woman. I think SWIMMING SWEET ARROW suffered because of the lack of publicity so I talk about it whenever I get the chance. Here’s an EXCERPT. I’ve bought a total of 10 copies since the book was published. That wasn’t my intention but I made the mistake of loaning it out 9 times and they never came home. It’s that kind of book. The same thing happened with MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL which I am re-reading for the third time.

Last year I linked to a short story by Michael Patrick Finn called WHERE BEAUTIFUL LADIES DANCE FOR YOU. I’ve included it again because it’s just so well done. And if you’re bored at work here is HORSE, GIRL, LANDSCAPE by Aurelie Sheehan. You can also find something at STORY SOUTH or by browsing WEB DEL SOL.

Yesterday I wrote about my reluctance to apply to HEDGEBROOK after interviewing three different women about their experiences there. What I didn’t stress enough is that each one of them loved their time as a resident and hated the fact that you can only attend once. It’s a beautiful place as you can see from the photographs and it sounds like a very nurturing environment. I got two emails from women who felt as if I didn’t have a clear view of the place. Like the others they found it to be a great experience overall so I am still thinking about tackling the APPLICATION but I haven’t quite made up my mind. The applications themselves are so time consuming that I limit myself to three a term otherwise I could use the process as a way to procrastinate. Applying to Hedgebrook would put me over my limit but I might give it a shot. They only have one deadline a year while the other three residency programs have two or three. We’ll see.

Also, I never shy away from the fact that I write mystery novels. I set out to write mysteries and, hopefully, that is what I accomplished but I also know that Maceo’s trials and tribulations won’t always work as the best writing sample. I have to take it situation by situation but I was encouraged to hear that a mystery writer, one that I admire, used a sample from her first novel to apply to Hedgebrook. That was a great piece of news.

Until next time. . .

TRAMBLINGS

Friday, 17 September, 2004

Lee Goldberg keeps it interesting with A WRITER’S LIFE, a blog about writing for television. Love his stories about pitch meetings with producers.

Enjoy your weekend!

TRAMBLINGS

Tuesday, 14 September, 2004

I have to say that I love Ms. JENNIFER WEINER. She bit back at Janet Maslin for the bad review of LITTLE EARTHQUAKES. Jennifer had the moxie to do exactly what I wanted to do after that the Washington Post assigned THE LAST KING to a freelancer who let his personal politics and agenda cloud his vision. Good for Jennifer! Check out her blog when you get a chance. I found her web page after reading GOOD IN BED and IN HER SHOES. I enjoyed both. She’s a very sharp and witty writer.

Until next time. . .