5.14.2008
TRAMBLINGS...
(Photo courtesy of ENGLISHRUSSIA).
Okay, yeah, that photo made my heart stop. The books, the books...
(Photo courtesy of ENGLISHRUSSIA).
Okay, yeah, that photo made my heart stop. The books, the books...
Labels: Books
3.05.2008
TRAMBLINGS...
The surgery went well. Now we're gearing up for the second one which will happen tomorrow. I admit to being a raw nerve on Monday operating on some insane form of auto-pilot. Whatever works. Your emails had me weepy all day. I appreciate the kindness in every one of them.
While going to and from the hospital and to and from L.A., I've picked up books here and there but nothing has caught my interest. Since December (when this kicked off in full force) I've started at least fifteen books and I haven't gotten to the end of anything but I AM LEGEND, which was a novella so it kinda doesn't count (excuse the messiness of that sentence but I'm fried). I think I found a solution. Years ago I read...
(BACKROADS by Tawni O'Dell)
...and loved every page of it. When COAL RUN came out I passed it up because of the setting. I usually like small town stories but the coal mine element turned me away. I was wrong and I admit it. I should have trusted this author.
In the random moments when I actually have free time I rush to this book. The next two, well, you'll understand why I have them...
SOUTHERN WEDDINGS
FETE
Anyway, if you have any book recommendations please send them my way.
Until next time...
The surgery went well. Now we're gearing up for the second one which will happen tomorrow. I admit to being a raw nerve on Monday operating on some insane form of auto-pilot. Whatever works. Your emails had me weepy all day. I appreciate the kindness in every one of them.
While going to and from the hospital and to and from L.A., I've picked up books here and there but nothing has caught my interest. Since December (when this kicked off in full force) I've started at least fifteen books and I haven't gotten to the end of anything but I AM LEGEND, which was a novella so it kinda doesn't count (excuse the messiness of that sentence but I'm fried). I think I found a solution. Years ago I read...
(BACKROADS by Tawni O'Dell)
...and loved every page of it. When COAL RUN came out I passed it up because of the setting. I usually like small town stories but the coal mine element turned me away. I was wrong and I admit it. I should have trusted this author.
In the random moments when I actually have free time I rush to this book. The next two, well, you'll understand why I have them...
SOUTHERN WEDDINGS
FETE
Anyway, if you have any book recommendations please send them my way.
Until next time...
12.18.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
Greetings from rainy SoCal. It's curl-up-with-a-book weather which I love.
I'm enjoying NEW ENGLAND WHITE. It's fussy and overwritten (just like his first novel EMPEROR OF OCEAN PARK) but an entertaining read at the same time. The world of White's creation is so specific and rarefied that it makes me feel like I went somewhere new. JOYCE CAROL OATES weighs in with a REVIEW for the NEW YORKER. Perfect for a rainy day, a road trip or a holiday afternoon away from home. Looking forward to finishing the book.
Can't say the same for THIRD DEGREE. ILES is my favorite "airport writer". Airport Writers are those authors who seem to occupy all the shelves in the airport gift shops. Their names are usually embossed and larger than the title. Iles fits the bill and he's usually a load of fun. THE QUIET GAME, the first book I picked up (at the airport) was a top-notch legal thriller. By the time I got off the plane I was hooked on Iles and went on to read the rest of his books. But I don't know what to say about this one except it doesn't even feel like he wrote it. He churns out a book or two a year and this was the first time I wondered if he employed other writers to fulfill his contract. There was something so hollow, rushed and paint-by-numbers about this one. I bought it at the airport this weekend which I regret because I'd really like to exchange it for something else. Like STEWART O'NAN'S LAST NIGHT AT THE LOBSTER.
THE FINISH PARTY reading at BOOK PASSAGE was awesome. Every bookstore in the country should be modeled after this store. It's well stocked, the employees are actually book people (imagine that) and the owner is involved in every aspect. A great evening all around. This was the first time we all read together. FARAI CHIDEYA introduced the group and read from her recently sold novel, "Touch". Afterward she introduced LALITA TADEMY who read from her Oprah pick CANE RIVER. She ended with the gorgeous line, "This is the face of slavery; to have nothing and still have something to lose." I read CANE RIVER but that line hit like a hammer during Lita's reading. What a treat.
Lita, who was dressed to the nines, and had to rush off to a fancy shindig, introduced JACQUELINE LUCKETT who read perfectly from her unpublished novel. First time reading in public but you wouldn't have known that. Afterwards Jackie introduced RENEE SWINDLE who also read from an unpublished novel. Renee brought down the house with her wicked sense of humor. I even think there was some testifying but I was laughing too hard to remember. Reneee introduced DEBORAH SANTANA whom we all call "the goddess". Deborah read a chapter from an unpublished memoir. The piece was about her mother and it nearly brought the audience to tears. I had to look at the floor to keep from crying. It was beautiful. Deborah introduced me after her reading and I have to admit to being nervous.
This is strange but I am always nervous in the Bay Area. Something about home turf. I read once at my old high school and I was sick to my stomach. Manhattan, Atlanta, Los Angeles, D.C., Dallas, Tulsa, Philadelphia, Baltimore, St. Louis...doesn't matter. I read in those cities without missing a beat but I get massive prehistoric butterflies in the Bay Area. Anyway, I read from "Geographies", my unpublished novel, and I was very pleased with the audience response. The story felt like it had a little weight (if that makes sense) and I felt the exact moment when the audience gave into the words. It made me feel like writing again. ZZ PACKER was the last one up and she read a flash fiction piece called GIDEON. Like Renee she brought down the house. Lots of belly laughs.
I could be wrong but I think we took the audience on quite a ride. There were tears, laughter, a call for husbands, interesting questions, some genuine love and a nice glimpse of the dynamics in our group. We just might take the show on the road. I'll keep you posted.
Lastly, FIRST NOVELS has been updated with a really cool book.
Until next time...
Greetings from rainy SoCal. It's curl-up-with-a-book weather which I love.
I'm enjoying NEW ENGLAND WHITE. It's fussy and overwritten (just like his first novel EMPEROR OF OCEAN PARK) but an entertaining read at the same time. The world of White's creation is so specific and rarefied that it makes me feel like I went somewhere new. JOYCE CAROL OATES weighs in with a REVIEW for the NEW YORKER. Perfect for a rainy day, a road trip or a holiday afternoon away from home. Looking forward to finishing the book.
Can't say the same for THIRD DEGREE. ILES is my favorite "airport writer". Airport Writers are those authors who seem to occupy all the shelves in the airport gift shops. Their names are usually embossed and larger than the title. Iles fits the bill and he's usually a load of fun. THE QUIET GAME, the first book I picked up (at the airport) was a top-notch legal thriller. By the time I got off the plane I was hooked on Iles and went on to read the rest of his books. But I don't know what to say about this one except it doesn't even feel like he wrote it. He churns out a book or two a year and this was the first time I wondered if he employed other writers to fulfill his contract. There was something so hollow, rushed and paint-by-numbers about this one. I bought it at the airport this weekend which I regret because I'd really like to exchange it for something else. Like STEWART O'NAN'S LAST NIGHT AT THE LOBSTER.
THE FINISH PARTY reading at BOOK PASSAGE was awesome. Every bookstore in the country should be modeled after this store. It's well stocked, the employees are actually book people (imagine that) and the owner is involved in every aspect. A great evening all around. This was the first time we all read together. FARAI CHIDEYA introduced the group and read from her recently sold novel, "Touch". Afterward she introduced LALITA TADEMY who read from her Oprah pick CANE RIVER. She ended with the gorgeous line, "This is the face of slavery; to have nothing and still have something to lose." I read CANE RIVER but that line hit like a hammer during Lita's reading. What a treat.
Lita, who was dressed to the nines, and had to rush off to a fancy shindig, introduced JACQUELINE LUCKETT who read perfectly from her unpublished novel. First time reading in public but you wouldn't have known that. Afterwards Jackie introduced RENEE SWINDLE who also read from an unpublished novel. Renee brought down the house with her wicked sense of humor. I even think there was some testifying but I was laughing too hard to remember. Reneee introduced DEBORAH SANTANA whom we all call "the goddess". Deborah read a chapter from an unpublished memoir. The piece was about her mother and it nearly brought the audience to tears. I had to look at the floor to keep from crying. It was beautiful. Deborah introduced me after her reading and I have to admit to being nervous.
This is strange but I am always nervous in the Bay Area. Something about home turf. I read once at my old high school and I was sick to my stomach. Manhattan, Atlanta, Los Angeles, D.C., Dallas, Tulsa, Philadelphia, Baltimore, St. Louis...doesn't matter. I read in those cities without missing a beat but I get massive prehistoric butterflies in the Bay Area. Anyway, I read from "Geographies", my unpublished novel, and I was very pleased with the audience response. The story felt like it had a little weight (if that makes sense) and I felt the exact moment when the audience gave into the words. It made me feel like writing again. ZZ PACKER was the last one up and she read a flash fiction piece called GIDEON. Like Renee she brought down the house. Lots of belly laughs.
I could be wrong but I think we took the audience on quite a ride. There were tears, laughter, a call for husbands, interesting questions, some genuine love and a nice glimpse of the dynamics in our group. We just might take the show on the road. I'll keep you posted.
Lastly, FIRST NOVELS has been updated with a really cool book.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, First Novels, THE FINISH PARTY
12.11.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
Well, a couple things have happened since the Walk Out. I am back to being B.Smith/Martha Stewart/June Cleever which has made the Crown Prince and Kobe very, very happy. Home cooked meals. A clean house. I am back to cooking and I am back to blogging and that ain't bad. Sunday I spent the afternoon baking a big batch of cookies. This is my own recipe (after trying and failing with others) that combines two of my favorite things...chocolate chips and coconut. I also do a version with oatmeal but this time I kept it a little more simple. I took the cookies to my fellow writers yesterday and I haven't received any angry emails. That's a good sign, right? Anyway, here is the recipe that works for me. I found recipes for chocolate chip cookies, macaroons, oatmeal cookies and coconut cookies. This is the final result.
COCONUT CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
1 cup of butter (2 sticks)
1 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp coconut extract
2 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 cups chocolate chips
2 cups coconut
NOTE: I used milk chocolate chips and I buy unsweetened coconut from the bins at Whole Foods. If you buy coconut from the baking aisle at the local grocery store put it in the blender or food processor to get a finer consistency.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter, white sugar and brown sugar together in one bowl. Beat in eggs one at a time. Stir in vanilla. Stir in coconut extract.
In separate bowl combine flour, baking soda and salt. Stir into butter mixture. Fold in chocolate chips and coconut. Drop onto cookie sheets. Bake 8-10 minutes.
SECOND NOTE: For crunchy cookies flatten on cookie sheet with your hand and then bake for 12 minutes. For softer chewier cookies bake for 8-9 minutes.
Grab a cold glass of milk and pick up Calvin Trillin's THE TUMMY TRILOGY to read while you eat. Or there's IN MY MOTHER'S KITCHEN: WRITERS ON LOVE, COOKING AND FAMILY.
(Photo Courtesy of Food Network)
A couple years ago I found a recipe for CHICKEN BOG somewhere on the internet. I have never been able to find the link again but Paula Deen has the RECIPE on her site. It's the exact same recipe but I know it wasn't a Food Network site. Anyway, beyond chili this is my favorite cold-weather-one-pot meal. Chicken Bog is a regional dish from the the South Carolina Low Country. My mom calls it the Poor Man Gumbo because it doesn't contain seafood. Either name works for me.
Until next time...
Well, a couple things have happened since the Walk Out. I am back to being B.Smith/Martha Stewart/June Cleever which has made the Crown Prince and Kobe very, very happy. Home cooked meals. A clean house. I am back to cooking and I am back to blogging and that ain't bad. Sunday I spent the afternoon baking a big batch of cookies. This is my own recipe (after trying and failing with others) that combines two of my favorite things...chocolate chips and coconut. I also do a version with oatmeal but this time I kept it a little more simple. I took the cookies to my fellow writers yesterday and I haven't received any angry emails. That's a good sign, right? Anyway, here is the recipe that works for me. I found recipes for chocolate chip cookies, macaroons, oatmeal cookies and coconut cookies. This is the final result.
COCONUT CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
1 cup of butter (2 sticks)
1 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp coconut extract
2 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 cups chocolate chips
2 cups coconut
NOTE: I used milk chocolate chips and I buy unsweetened coconut from the bins at Whole Foods. If you buy coconut from the baking aisle at the local grocery store put it in the blender or food processor to get a finer consistency.
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter, white sugar and brown sugar together in one bowl. Beat in eggs one at a time. Stir in vanilla. Stir in coconut extract.
In separate bowl combine flour, baking soda and salt. Stir into butter mixture. Fold in chocolate chips and coconut. Drop onto cookie sheets. Bake 8-10 minutes.
SECOND NOTE: For crunchy cookies flatten on cookie sheet with your hand and then bake for 12 minutes. For softer chewier cookies bake for 8-9 minutes.
Grab a cold glass of milk and pick up Calvin Trillin's THE TUMMY TRILOGY to read while you eat. Or there's IN MY MOTHER'S KITCHEN: WRITERS ON LOVE, COOKING AND FAMILY.
(Photo Courtesy of Food Network)
A couple years ago I found a recipe for CHICKEN BOG somewhere on the internet. I have never been able to find the link again but Paula Deen has the RECIPE on her site. It's the exact same recipe but I know it wasn't a Food Network site. Anyway, beyond chili this is my favorite cold-weather-one-pot meal. Chicken Bog is a regional dish from the the South Carolina Low Country. My mom calls it the Poor Man Gumbo because it doesn't contain seafood. Either name works for me.
Until next time...
12.09.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
Pretty busy weekend as the holiday season kicked into full gear. Friday night my mentor threw a Christmas bash that I had to miss because of some family stuff and a generally foul mood. Happens to the best of us. The good thing is that I managed to write my way out of it. Did some good work on the book and outlined another project with the Crown Prince. I have two delivery dates depending on what happens with the strike but I did make that pledge in a September post to finish the book next fall. I am holding myself to that.
On Saturday I celebrated MY FRIEND and I had such a good time. The company was amazing, the food was great, cute babies were in the house, and I met a few new people. I remember as a teenager, and a young twentysomething, seeing magazine ads where people were dressed really nice, the table was set beautifully, wine and champagne seemed to flow and I'd think...who has parties like that? To my small town eyes it just looked so amazing and sophisticated. Well, yesterday I attended what I used to dub "magazine parties" in honor of a friend who is making a HUGE life change next year. She's my new hero.
I just love when people "step out on faith" and trust that it will work out the way it needs to work out. I love the fact that she's not holding herself to any strict rules, deadlines, or expectations. How freeing is that? You'll see from her blog that she plans to leave California and the U.S. to make a home for herself in ROME. Again, a new hero of mine. I've always harbored fantasies of living in some "exotic" locale but those plans continue to just be plans. Hats off, chica.
Have you guys seen COCAINE COWBOYS? Blew my mind. C.P. and I watched it on Friday night. The filmmakers found three great storytellers in Jon Roberts (a dealer), Mickey Munday (a courier) and Jorge "Rivi" Ayala (a disturbingly charming hitman).
Here are six pages of FIRST NOVELS that have caught my eye over the years. You might find a couple of Christmas gifts on that list. There's also a couple of nice titles on the MONKEY SHINES list. Monkey Shines is my nickname for my best girlfriends. Once in awhile they ask for book recommendations so I put a list together on shelfari that they can refer to at anytime. A couple months ago we took a three day holiday to Palm Springs. They were traveling without their children so hair was let down. Hijinks ensued.
I took to calling them "little monkeys" whenever they needed to be rounded up. "Alright, little monkeys, let's get moving." "Alright, monkeys, pay attention." "Monkeys, let's go!" Needless to say, I cemented my reputation as the bossy one. SGW nicknamed me "The Aviator" in response to my bossiness and the fact that I was in charge of directions even though I don't drive. No one, including my mom, can believe my acute sense of direction since I don't drive AT ALL. (I know, I know, but everyone has at least one flaw). My mom's favorite sentence, "Your no-driving ass sure can get me where I need to go."
I've taken lessons but it's just not my thing. Makes me nervous and crazy. C.P. always says "Chelle doesn't want to drive, she wants to be driven." I just imagine it took me forever to walk as a baby. Snuggled up in my stoller thinking, "This is just fine. Hand me another blanket and my Drowsy (pictured below) and keep pushing."
(By the way...I loved her despite her less than stellar appearance. My dad had a running gag where he'd come up on her laying around somewhere and release a blood curdling scream. "Ow, Chelle, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen. She scared the shit out of me.") No wonder I ended up with C.P. That is sooooo his style of humor.
Wait, what was I talking about? Driving? Drowsy? Cocaine? Monkeys? There's a sentence in there somewhere but I don't have the energy to put it together. Moving on. ABC will rerun the first nine episode of WOMEN'S MURDER CLUB on Saturday nights. Which means my episode "No Opportunity Necessary" will rerun in January for those of you who missed it. Because our show is owned by Fox it isn't streamed online. That might change. It might not.
The STRIKE continues to go very, very poorly. Another TAKE over at ARTFUL WRITER. Anyway, come Monday morning I am done talking about it, obsessing about it, or letting it take up anymore of my time or creative energy. I will continue to picket but I am officially off the rollercoaster. The hours I lose stressing aren't productive nor are they particularly enjoyable so I'm done. I've informed C.P. that I don't want to hear "the latest development" anymore. Let me know when the strike is over. I am not interested in the latest prediction, the latest press release of doom, or insider information that continues to put gray hairs on my head. One of my mottos is "react when there's something to react to" which has served me well. I am going back to that. Which means, of course, that on the picket line I will smile politely, chit chat and stick in my headphones when the hearsay ramps up.
Here's my MIx for this week.
All Along the Watchtower, Jimi Hendrix
All Night Long, AC/DC
Born Under a Bad Sign, Jimi Hendrix
Can't You See, Marshall Tucker Band
Caught Up in You, .38 Special
(Don't Fear) The Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
Dream On, Aerosmith
Feel Like Making Love, Bad Company
Fly Like An Eagle, Steve Miller Band
Michelle(Shade Tree Demo), Lynrd Skynyrd
Free Falling, Tom Petty
Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones
Jamie's Crying, Van Halen
Love Reign O'er Me, The Who
Midnight Rambler, The Rolling Stones
Show Me The Way, Peter Frampton
The Song Remains the Same, Led Zeppelin
Sweet Emotion, Aerosmith
Take the Long Way Home, Supertramp
Take the Money and Run, Steve Miller Band
Tom Sawyer, Rush
You Drive Me Wild, The Runaways,
Until next time...
Pretty busy weekend as the holiday season kicked into full gear. Friday night my mentor threw a Christmas bash that I had to miss because of some family stuff and a generally foul mood. Happens to the best of us. The good thing is that I managed to write my way out of it. Did some good work on the book and outlined another project with the Crown Prince. I have two delivery dates depending on what happens with the strike but I did make that pledge in a September post to finish the book next fall. I am holding myself to that.
On Saturday I celebrated MY FRIEND and I had such a good time. The company was amazing, the food was great, cute babies were in the house, and I met a few new people. I remember as a teenager, and a young twentysomething, seeing magazine ads where people were dressed really nice, the table was set beautifully, wine and champagne seemed to flow and I'd think...who has parties like that? To my small town eyes it just looked so amazing and sophisticated. Well, yesterday I attended what I used to dub "magazine parties" in honor of a friend who is making a HUGE life change next year. She's my new hero.
I just love when people "step out on faith" and trust that it will work out the way it needs to work out. I love the fact that she's not holding herself to any strict rules, deadlines, or expectations. How freeing is that? You'll see from her blog that she plans to leave California and the U.S. to make a home for herself in ROME. Again, a new hero of mine. I've always harbored fantasies of living in some "exotic" locale but those plans continue to just be plans. Hats off, chica.
Have you guys seen COCAINE COWBOYS? Blew my mind. C.P. and I watched it on Friday night. The filmmakers found three great storytellers in Jon Roberts (a dealer), Mickey Munday (a courier) and Jorge "Rivi" Ayala (a disturbingly charming hitman).
Here are six pages of FIRST NOVELS that have caught my eye over the years. You might find a couple of Christmas gifts on that list. There's also a couple of nice titles on the MONKEY SHINES list. Monkey Shines is my nickname for my best girlfriends. Once in awhile they ask for book recommendations so I put a list together on shelfari that they can refer to at anytime. A couple months ago we took a three day holiday to Palm Springs. They were traveling without their children so hair was let down. Hijinks ensued.
I took to calling them "little monkeys" whenever they needed to be rounded up. "Alright, little monkeys, let's get moving." "Alright, monkeys, pay attention." "Monkeys, let's go!" Needless to say, I cemented my reputation as the bossy one. SGW nicknamed me "The Aviator" in response to my bossiness and the fact that I was in charge of directions even though I don't drive. No one, including my mom, can believe my acute sense of direction since I don't drive AT ALL. (I know, I know, but everyone has at least one flaw). My mom's favorite sentence, "Your no-driving ass sure can get me where I need to go."
I've taken lessons but it's just not my thing. Makes me nervous and crazy. C.P. always says "Chelle doesn't want to drive, she wants to be driven." I just imagine it took me forever to walk as a baby. Snuggled up in my stoller thinking, "This is just fine. Hand me another blanket and my Drowsy (pictured below) and keep pushing."
(By the way...I loved her despite her less than stellar appearance. My dad had a running gag where he'd come up on her laying around somewhere and release a blood curdling scream. "Ow, Chelle, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen. She scared the shit out of me.") No wonder I ended up with C.P. That is sooooo his style of humor.
Wait, what was I talking about? Driving? Drowsy? Cocaine? Monkeys? There's a sentence in there somewhere but I don't have the energy to put it together. Moving on. ABC will rerun the first nine episode of WOMEN'S MURDER CLUB on Saturday nights. Which means my episode "No Opportunity Necessary" will rerun in January for those of you who missed it. Because our show is owned by Fox it isn't streamed online. That might change. It might not.
The STRIKE continues to go very, very poorly. Another TAKE over at ARTFUL WRITER. Anyway, come Monday morning I am done talking about it, obsessing about it, or letting it take up anymore of my time or creative energy. I will continue to picket but I am officially off the rollercoaster. The hours I lose stressing aren't productive nor are they particularly enjoyable so I'm done. I've informed C.P. that I don't want to hear "the latest development" anymore. Let me know when the strike is over. I am not interested in the latest prediction, the latest press release of doom, or insider information that continues to put gray hairs on my head. One of my mottos is "react when there's something to react to" which has served me well. I am going back to that. Which means, of course, that on the picket line I will smile politely, chit chat and stick in my headphones when the hearsay ramps up.
Here's my MIx for this week.
All Along the Watchtower, Jimi Hendrix
All Night Long, AC/DC
Born Under a Bad Sign, Jimi Hendrix
Can't You See, Marshall Tucker Band
Caught Up in You, .38 Special
(Don't Fear) The Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
Dream On, Aerosmith
Feel Like Making Love, Bad Company
Fly Like An Eagle, Steve Miller Band
Michelle(Shade Tree Demo), Lynrd Skynyrd
Free Falling, Tom Petty
Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones
Jamie's Crying, Van Halen
Love Reign O'er Me, The Who
Midnight Rambler, The Rolling Stones
Show Me The Way, Peter Frampton
The Song Remains the Same, Led Zeppelin
Sweet Emotion, Aerosmith
Take the Long Way Home, Supertramp
Take the Money and Run, Steve Miller Band
Tom Sawyer, Rush
You Drive Me Wild, The Runaways,
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Cocaine Cowboys, Holidays, Women's Murder Club, Writing
10.28.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
Quick post. After two weeks of getting home at two, three and four o'clock in the morning your girl is wiped out. The last day of filming for my episode is Thursday and this is all I have to say...production ain't for sissies. Those folks work hard. On Thursday the Crown Prince and I will also learn whether or not WE'RE ON STRIKE. I am hoping for the best and expecting anything but. A busy week in our household. My mother arrives tomorrow night for a two day visit to the set. She'll be here for the most emotional scenes which should be interesting for her. Next week I am traveling with my mom and sisters to celebrate all of our birthdays together. Looking forward to the family time.
Okay, gotta run, but bop on over to Shelfari and take a look at my BOOKSHELF. As of now I have 740 books for you to browse but I'm not done with the updates. Keep checking back and add me to your friend list so that I can find new titles. I just joined last weekend and I love the site. So far I have eleven friends but I can always use more. Lastly, I started the CLAPTON biography and I picked up THE JOURNAL OF JOYCE CAROL OATES: 1973-1982. LOOKING FOR JJ also caught my eye. I've had a similar idea for years so I'm curious to see how the author pulls it off.
Until next time...
Quick post. After two weeks of getting home at two, three and four o'clock in the morning your girl is wiped out. The last day of filming for my episode is Thursday and this is all I have to say...production ain't for sissies. Those folks work hard. On Thursday the Crown Prince and I will also learn whether or not WE'RE ON STRIKE. I am hoping for the best and expecting anything but. A busy week in our household. My mother arrives tomorrow night for a two day visit to the set. She'll be here for the most emotional scenes which should be interesting for her. Next week I am traveling with my mom and sisters to celebrate all of our birthdays together. Looking forward to the family time.
Okay, gotta run, but bop on over to Shelfari and take a look at my BOOKSHELF. As of now I have 740 books for you to browse but I'm not done with the updates. Keep checking back and add me to your friend list so that I can find new titles. I just joined last weekend and I love the site. So far I have eleven friends but I can always use more. Lastly, I started the CLAPTON biography and I picked up THE JOURNAL OF JOYCE CAROL OATES: 1973-1982. LOOKING FOR JJ also caught my eye. I've had a similar idea for years so I'm curious to see how the author pulls it off.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Family, Women's Murder Club
9.13.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
BIG! BIG! BIG! NEWS (at least to me) in the next couple days so keep checking back. I don't want to announce it until everything is in place but I am very excited. Not pregnant. We didn't elope. Didn't adopt. But that's all I'm saying. That little picture at the top should clue you in that it has something to do with writing. Another bit of news that has to do with writing. I am officially a part of pop culture. Yep, that's right, lil' ole me. THE DYING GROUND and THE LAST KING are both available for download on ITUNES. How cool is that?
Anyway, the music list in the last post was a huge hit. Here are the other two mixes that I made. DISCLAIMER: Can't say this will work for anybody but me. Can't say it makes sense. Can't tell you the exact mix of KC & The Sunshine Band and Doo Wop that will get you started on your writing but I encourage you to experiment a little. Throw in some blues, some rock n' roll, a little old school hip hop, jazz, big band...Stir and then shake until you get it right.
Writing Mix Number Two
Brooklyn, Mos Def
Noche Azul, Si Se
So Lonesome, The Flatirons
So What'cha Want, Beastie Boys
Jingo, Santana
Express Yourself, Charles Wright & The Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band
Gimme Shelter, Rolling Stones
Welcome To Jamrock, Damien Marley
Hazy Shade of Winter, The Bangles
Bus to Baton Rouge, Lucinda Williams
Long Road, Eddie Vedder
Million Miles Away, The Plimsouls
Killing Me Softly, The Fugees
Bonita Applebum, A Tribe Called Quest
Lovely Day, Bill Withers
Il Buono, Il Brutto, Il Cattivo, Ennio Morricone
Bennie & The Jets, Elton John
I Only Have Eyes For You, The Flamingos
Djin Djin, Angelique Kidjo (Featuring Alicia Keys
Writing Mix Number Three
Jamie's Crying, Van Halen
Cry To Me, Betty Harris
Show Me The Way, Peter Frampton
Free Bird, Arnold McCuller
You Drive Me Wild, The Runaways
Microphone Fiend, Rakim
Sweet Emotion, Aerosmith
Why, Annie Lennox
When the Levee Breaks, Led Zeppelin
Heart of Glass, Blondie
I Don't Like Mondays, The Boomtown Rats
You Gots To Chill, EPMD
Three Crosses, The Flatirons
Under Pressure, David Bowie & Queen
Shooting Star, Bad Company
Black Dog, Led Zeppelin
Time Is On My Side, Rolling Stones
Something 2 Dance 2, NWA
One Way or Another, Blondie
You're All I Need, Mary J & Method Man
Take what you need, discard what you don't and above all else...SEND ME YOUR WRITING LISTS. If you're game I'll post them here. On the book front, here are a couple titles I've picked up over the last couple weeks.
"Cafe de Flore was the essence of all that was desirable on the Rive Gauche of Paris. It stood on the corner of Saint Germain life, an irresistable mix of cafe society, surging with literary, artistic, wanton and fashionable ambitions. It was a mirrored place of entrances and encounters.--THE BEAUTIFUL FALL: LAGERFIELD, SAINT LAURENT AND GLORIOUS EXCESS IN 1970S PARIS by Alicia Drake.
"When describing my mother it is impossible to overstate her grandeur, her haughtiness, her genorisity, her old Hollywood star power, her immaturity, her joy, her entitlement, her suffering. If you want a sense of what she's like, for grandeur and loneliness and elocution, go see Sunset Boulevard. --OH THE GLORY OF IT ALL by Sean Wilsey.
"The town was so small and shabby that, except for it's location and the entrance to the Mississippi River, a stranger could not have guessed it was the capital of an enormous Spanish colony. The little houses stretched for about a mile along the levee and went only six blocks deep. The buildings faced the river, for everywhere, in both Europe and America, the main thoroughfares were water." --INTIMATE ENEMIES: THE TWO WORLDS OF THE BARONESS DE PONTALBA by Christina Vella.
"My worst dreams have always contained images of brown water and fields of elephant grass and the downdraft of helicopter blades. The dreams are in color but they contain no sound, not of drowned voices in the river or the explosions under the hooches in the village we burned or the thropping of the Jolly Green and the gunships coming low and flat across the canopy, like insects pasted against a molten sun." --THE TIN ROOF BLOWDOWN by JAMES LEE BURKE.
"On those cloudy days, Robert Neville was never sure when sunset came, and sometimes they were in the streets before he could get back. If he had been more analytical, he might have calculated the approximate time of their arrival; but he still used the lifetime habit of judging nightfall by the sky, and on cloudy days that method didn't work. That was why he chose to stay near the house on those days."-- I AM LEGEND by RICHARD MATHESON.
"The last time I saw Laurent Jammett, he was in Scott's store with a dead wolf over his shoulder. I had gone to get needles, and he had come in for the bounty. Scott insisted on the whole carcass, having once been bamboozled by a Yankee who brought in a pair of ears one day and claimed his bounty, then some time later brought in the paws for another dollar, and finally the tail."--THE TENDERNESS OF WOLVES by Stef Penney.
"Oscar Feldman, whose bold and innovative female nudes are among the most admired and influential artworks of recent years, died of a heart attack August 7 in the Riverside Drive apartment where he'd lived with his wife and son for many decades. He was 78." -- THE GREAT MAN by Kate Christensen.
Bound to be something you like somewhere in there.
What else? Oh, yeah. The Nichelle Barbie finally arrived and my sis has dubbed her Lil Chelle as in "Lil Chelle gonna go 'head and handle that." The box is fabulous, her clothes are fabulous and she's rocking some serious stilettos. Maybe I'll stand her up on top of my wedding cake when me and the Crown Prince finally "do that thang".
Until next time...
BIG! BIG! BIG! NEWS (at least to me) in the next couple days so keep checking back. I don't want to announce it until everything is in place but I am very excited. Not pregnant. We didn't elope. Didn't adopt. But that's all I'm saying. That little picture at the top should clue you in that it has something to do with writing. Another bit of news that has to do with writing. I am officially a part of pop culture. Yep, that's right, lil' ole me. THE DYING GROUND and THE LAST KING are both available for download on ITUNES. How cool is that?
Anyway, the music list in the last post was a huge hit. Here are the other two mixes that I made. DISCLAIMER: Can't say this will work for anybody but me. Can't say it makes sense. Can't tell you the exact mix of KC & The Sunshine Band and Doo Wop that will get you started on your writing but I encourage you to experiment a little. Throw in some blues, some rock n' roll, a little old school hip hop, jazz, big band...Stir and then shake until you get it right.
Writing Mix Number Two
Brooklyn, Mos Def
Noche Azul, Si Se
So Lonesome, The Flatirons
So What'cha Want, Beastie Boys
Jingo, Santana
Express Yourself, Charles Wright & The Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band
Gimme Shelter, Rolling Stones
Welcome To Jamrock, Damien Marley
Hazy Shade of Winter, The Bangles
Bus to Baton Rouge, Lucinda Williams
Long Road, Eddie Vedder
Million Miles Away, The Plimsouls
Killing Me Softly, The Fugees
Bonita Applebum, A Tribe Called Quest
Lovely Day, Bill Withers
Il Buono, Il Brutto, Il Cattivo, Ennio Morricone
Bennie & The Jets, Elton John
I Only Have Eyes For You, The Flamingos
Djin Djin, Angelique Kidjo (Featuring Alicia Keys
Writing Mix Number Three
Jamie's Crying, Van Halen
Cry To Me, Betty Harris
Show Me The Way, Peter Frampton
Free Bird, Arnold McCuller
You Drive Me Wild, The Runaways
Microphone Fiend, Rakim
Sweet Emotion, Aerosmith
Why, Annie Lennox
When the Levee Breaks, Led Zeppelin
Heart of Glass, Blondie
I Don't Like Mondays, The Boomtown Rats
You Gots To Chill, EPMD
Three Crosses, The Flatirons
Under Pressure, David Bowie & Queen
Shooting Star, Bad Company
Black Dog, Led Zeppelin
Time Is On My Side, Rolling Stones
Something 2 Dance 2, NWA
One Way or Another, Blondie
You're All I Need, Mary J & Method Man
Take what you need, discard what you don't and above all else...SEND ME YOUR WRITING LISTS. If you're game I'll post them here. On the book front, here are a couple titles I've picked up over the last couple weeks.
"Cafe de Flore was the essence of all that was desirable on the Rive Gauche of Paris. It stood on the corner of Saint Germain life, an irresistable mix of cafe society, surging with literary, artistic, wanton and fashionable ambitions. It was a mirrored place of entrances and encounters.--THE BEAUTIFUL FALL: LAGERFIELD, SAINT LAURENT AND GLORIOUS EXCESS IN 1970S PARIS by Alicia Drake.
"When describing my mother it is impossible to overstate her grandeur, her haughtiness, her genorisity, her old Hollywood star power, her immaturity, her joy, her entitlement, her suffering. If you want a sense of what she's like, for grandeur and loneliness and elocution, go see Sunset Boulevard. --OH THE GLORY OF IT ALL by Sean Wilsey.
"The town was so small and shabby that, except for it's location and the entrance to the Mississippi River, a stranger could not have guessed it was the capital of an enormous Spanish colony. The little houses stretched for about a mile along the levee and went only six blocks deep. The buildings faced the river, for everywhere, in both Europe and America, the main thoroughfares were water." --INTIMATE ENEMIES: THE TWO WORLDS OF THE BARONESS DE PONTALBA by Christina Vella.
"My worst dreams have always contained images of brown water and fields of elephant grass and the downdraft of helicopter blades. The dreams are in color but they contain no sound, not of drowned voices in the river or the explosions under the hooches in the village we burned or the thropping of the Jolly Green and the gunships coming low and flat across the canopy, like insects pasted against a molten sun." --THE TIN ROOF BLOWDOWN by JAMES LEE BURKE.
"On those cloudy days, Robert Neville was never sure when sunset came, and sometimes they were in the streets before he could get back. If he had been more analytical, he might have calculated the approximate time of their arrival; but he still used the lifetime habit of judging nightfall by the sky, and on cloudy days that method didn't work. That was why he chose to stay near the house on those days."-- I AM LEGEND by RICHARD MATHESON.
"The last time I saw Laurent Jammett, he was in Scott's store with a dead wolf over his shoulder. I had gone to get needles, and he had come in for the bounty. Scott insisted on the whole carcass, having once been bamboozled by a Yankee who brought in a pair of ears one day and claimed his bounty, then some time later brought in the paws for another dollar, and finally the tail."--THE TENDERNESS OF WOLVES by Stef Penney.
"Oscar Feldman, whose bold and innovative female nudes are among the most admired and influential artworks of recent years, died of a heart attack August 7 in the Riverside Drive apartment where he'd lived with his wife and son for many decades. He was 78." -- THE GREAT MAN by Kate Christensen.
Bound to be something you like somewhere in there.
What else? Oh, yeah. The Nichelle Barbie finally arrived and my sis has dubbed her Lil Chelle as in "Lil Chelle gonna go 'head and handle that." The box is fabulous, her clothes are fabulous and she's rocking some serious stilettos. Maybe I'll stand her up on top of my wedding cake when me and the Crown Prince finally "do that thang".
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Lil Chelle, Music, Writing Life
7.27.2007
TRAMBLINGS
Greetings.
Remember this guy?
He has the right idea, doesn't he? Just chillin', taking it all in, turning over a story in his head. Trying to find that missing piece of the puzzle as he looks out over the water. "If I can just get the character right, it will all make sense." That's me on a tough writing day. Don't have a water view. Actually, I have direct view to a newly painted Victorian directly across the street and, to put it nicely, it's ugly. Yep, that's nicely. I'm not sure WHAT the owner say when he put the colors together in his mind but thick chocolate brown, bright yellow, mustard and navy blue equals complete and utter madness. The house pulsates but there he is strutting like a peacock and planting fuschia flowers. Maybe the sun will fade it to something we can all live with but I doubt it. Sitting on my balcony with a cup of tea has become a neon experience.
It's been a busy week. Over the weekend the WGA hosted a cocktail for the TCA. I dragged the Crown Prince to the Beverly Hilton (home of the Golden Globes) for 45 minutes of dressed-up chatting. I met the other Staff Writer on my show in the lobby and then we huddled together and watched showrunners and writers talk to critics. One note: the two reporters from US WEEKLY both wore hot pants. Not sure what parallel universe allows a woman to wear hot pants to a dress-up function but there they were in short-shorts, high heels and halter tops. I couldn't even look at 'em.
Monday was the first read-thru of the show. Exciting. Dressed up a little more than usual and went over the hill (to the valley) with the other writers. Execs were there from the network and the studio. The actors were there as well and it was cool to hear the words out loud for the first time. Some folks are blase about all this. Not me. I loved every second of it. And the show officially went into production yesterday.
Wednesday I made a one day trip to the Bay Area for a reading/book signing at UC BERKELEY. There were about 80 people in the room (I was expecting 15) and a lot of sharp folks. Great group of kids. I haven't read in so long it took me a minute to warm up but overall a great event. Nice to see that THE DYING GROUND still has legs. My only regret...they all had the mass market paperback with that horrible ride-or-die cover. Makes me shudder every time I see it.
This is the cover I prefer...
This is the cover they had...
See the difference? I'm sure their parents looked at the book and said, "UC Berkeley assigned a romance novel?" Anyway, great group of students. I told them to keep in touch with me. Hope that they take me up on the offer.
Also, ANGELA HENRY has a new book out. A mystery set in Hollywood. All over that. I ordered it yesterday so I can read it on my next trip up to the Bay.
Angela also runs CRIME SISTAHS which is a great blog. Check it out.
Lastly, woke up with a scorching ear ache this morning. Haven't had one in a long time. Can't hear out of my left ear which is driving the Crown Prince nuts. We'll see how well that works in the Writer's Room until I can get to the doctor. Anyway, Beautiful People, I am off to see the wizard.
Until next time..
Greetings.
Remember this guy?
He has the right idea, doesn't he? Just chillin', taking it all in, turning over a story in his head. Trying to find that missing piece of the puzzle as he looks out over the water. "If I can just get the character right, it will all make sense." That's me on a tough writing day. Don't have a water view. Actually, I have direct view to a newly painted Victorian directly across the street and, to put it nicely, it's ugly. Yep, that's nicely. I'm not sure WHAT the owner say when he put the colors together in his mind but thick chocolate brown, bright yellow, mustard and navy blue equals complete and utter madness. The house pulsates but there he is strutting like a peacock and planting fuschia flowers. Maybe the sun will fade it to something we can all live with but I doubt it. Sitting on my balcony with a cup of tea has become a neon experience.
It's been a busy week. Over the weekend the WGA hosted a cocktail for the TCA. I dragged the Crown Prince to the Beverly Hilton (home of the Golden Globes) for 45 minutes of dressed-up chatting. I met the other Staff Writer on my show in the lobby and then we huddled together and watched showrunners and writers talk to critics. One note: the two reporters from US WEEKLY both wore hot pants. Not sure what parallel universe allows a woman to wear hot pants to a dress-up function but there they were in short-shorts, high heels and halter tops. I couldn't even look at 'em.
Monday was the first read-thru of the show. Exciting. Dressed up a little more than usual and went over the hill (to the valley) with the other writers. Execs were there from the network and the studio. The actors were there as well and it was cool to hear the words out loud for the first time. Some folks are blase about all this. Not me. I loved every second of it. And the show officially went into production yesterday.
Wednesday I made a one day trip to the Bay Area for a reading/book signing at UC BERKELEY. There were about 80 people in the room (I was expecting 15) and a lot of sharp folks. Great group of kids. I haven't read in so long it took me a minute to warm up but overall a great event. Nice to see that THE DYING GROUND still has legs. My only regret...they all had the mass market paperback with that horrible ride-or-die cover. Makes me shudder every time I see it.
This is the cover I prefer...
This is the cover they had...
See the difference? I'm sure their parents looked at the book and said, "UC Berkeley assigned a romance novel?" Anyway, great group of students. I told them to keep in touch with me. Hope that they take me up on the offer.
Also, ANGELA HENRY has a new book out. A mystery set in Hollywood. All over that. I ordered it yesterday so I can read it on my next trip up to the Bay.
Angela also runs CRIME SISTAHS which is a great blog. Check it out.
Lastly, woke up with a scorching ear ache this morning. Haven't had one in a long time. Can't hear out of my left ear which is driving the Crown Prince nuts. We'll see how well that works in the Writer's Room until I can get to the doctor. Anyway, Beautiful People, I am off to see the wizard.
Until next time..
Labels: Book Signing, Books, The Dying Ground, TV Show
6.26.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
BOOKS! BOOKS! WONDERFUL BOOKS!
Here are a few titles that have caught my eye recently. (Wait, is it eye or eyes? I used both to look at the titles but it could be a grammatical thing). Anyway, here they are...
NEW ENGLAND WHITE by Stephan L. Carter. I read EMPEROR OF OCEAN PARK years ago and I'm ready to give Carter another try.
MY SUMMER OF SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT by Stephanie Gayle.
AMONG OTHER THINGS, I'VE TAKEN UP SMOKING by Aoibheann Sweeney.
BOOMBOX by Gabriel Cohen.
A GOOD AND HAPPY CHILD by Justin Evans.
ALWAYS by Nicola Griffith. (I'm a big fan of this series).
LOS ANGELES NOIR edited by DENISE HAMILTON.
NEW ORLEANS NOIR edited by Julie Smith.
GENERATION LOSS by Elizabeth Hand.
THE REAGAN DIARIES.
DEPARTMENT OF LOST AND FOUND by Allison Winn Scotch.
IF I AM MISSING OR DEAD by Janine Latus.
FREE FOOD FOR MILLIONAIRES by Min Jin Lee.
THE YEAR OF FOG by Michelle Richmond.
HOLLYWOOD GIRLS CLUB by Maggie Marr.
COVER UP Michele Martinez.
BEFORE by Irini Spanidou.
NOTHING LOST by John Gregory Dunne.
ORIGIN by Diana Abu-Jaber.
DAMAGE CONTROL by Emma Forrest.
NECESSARY SINS by Lynn Darling.
THE MISTRESS'S DAUGHTER by A.M. Homes.
ON CHESIL BEACH by Ian McEwan.
And these are the ones I actually got from the library today. Told you. I have books on the brain.
"By the time I showed up in Las Vegas, I'd been looking for work for more than a month. I had busted my ass in the five years since my prison release, rising from dishwasher at a small restaurant to sous-chef at one of the most prestigious kitchens in L.A. I was on a track toward running my own restaurant when a political kitchen battle suddenly left me begging for someone to give me a chance to start over. I hadn't been jobless this long since I'd left prison, and my prospects of landing a position hadn't been so bleak since then, either."--- COOKED: FROM THE STREETS TO THE STOVE, FROM COCAINE TO FOIE GRAS by JEFF HENDERSON.
"It began with a simple transaction inside a bustling nightclub, one of hundreds of comparable purchases that must have gone down on that drug-fogged night. In a dimly lit side room filled with vacant-eyed club kids, a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was surreptiously tendered in exchange for a small packet of white powder. Overcoming my initial nervousness, I flipped forward my long hair as cover, bowed my head, emptied some of the contents onto the back of my hand, exhaled hard, and then snorted up the strange substance, which scratched the inside of my nose like ground-up glass." -- CLUBLAND: THE FABULOUS RISE AND MURDEROUS FALL OF CLUB CULTURE by Frank Owen.
"You can't see anything in the dark waters of a saltwater inlet known as the Gorge, Sergeant Bob Wall was underwater, searching for the body of a girl." -- UNDER THE BRIDGE by Rebecca Godfrey.
"Mariam was five years old the first time she heard the word harami. It happened on a Thursday. It must have, because Mariam remembered she had been restless and preoccupied that day, the way she was only on Thursdays, the day when Jalil visited her at the kolba. To pass the time until the moment she would see him at last, crossing the knee-high grass in the clearing and waving, Mariam had climbed a chair and taken down her mother's Chinese tea set. The tea set was the sole relic that Mariam's mother, Nana, had of her own mother, who had died when Nana was two. Nana cherished each blue-and-white porcelain peice, the graceful curve of the pot's spout, the hand-painted finches and chrysanthemums, the dragon on the sugar bowl, meant to ward off evil." -- A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS by Khaled Hosseini. Hosseini also wrote THE KITE RUNNER.
"Maggie McElroy felt her soul spiral away from her in the year following her husband's death; she felt strange wherever she was. She needed walls to hold her. She could not seem to find an apartment small enough. In the end she moved to a boat." -- THE LAST CHINESE CHEF by NICOLE MONES.
Lastly, an abrupt change of subject, the writing staff saw the sets for the show yesterday. I'll tell ya, the Hollywood-magic of building something solely from the imagination still gets me everytime. I hope this never feels like a job. Even if I have to fool myself (and you know I'm good at that) I always want this to feel like having my eyes wide open in the middle of a dream. Thanks, Stacy, for pointing that out to me.
Until next time...
BOOKS! BOOKS! WONDERFUL BOOKS!
Here are a few titles that have caught my eye recently. (Wait, is it eye or eyes? I used both to look at the titles but it could be a grammatical thing). Anyway, here they are...
NEW ENGLAND WHITE by Stephan L. Carter. I read EMPEROR OF OCEAN PARK years ago and I'm ready to give Carter another try.
MY SUMMER OF SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT by Stephanie Gayle.
AMONG OTHER THINGS, I'VE TAKEN UP SMOKING by Aoibheann Sweeney.
BOOMBOX by Gabriel Cohen.
A GOOD AND HAPPY CHILD by Justin Evans.
ALWAYS by Nicola Griffith. (I'm a big fan of this series).
LOS ANGELES NOIR edited by DENISE HAMILTON.
NEW ORLEANS NOIR edited by Julie Smith.
GENERATION LOSS by Elizabeth Hand.
THE REAGAN DIARIES.
DEPARTMENT OF LOST AND FOUND by Allison Winn Scotch.
IF I AM MISSING OR DEAD by Janine Latus.
FREE FOOD FOR MILLIONAIRES by Min Jin Lee.
THE YEAR OF FOG by Michelle Richmond.
HOLLYWOOD GIRLS CLUB by Maggie Marr.
COVER UP Michele Martinez.
BEFORE by Irini Spanidou.
NOTHING LOST by John Gregory Dunne.
ORIGIN by Diana Abu-Jaber.
DAMAGE CONTROL by Emma Forrest.
NECESSARY SINS by Lynn Darling.
THE MISTRESS'S DAUGHTER by A.M. Homes.
ON CHESIL BEACH by Ian McEwan.
And these are the ones I actually got from the library today. Told you. I have books on the brain.
"By the time I showed up in Las Vegas, I'd been looking for work for more than a month. I had busted my ass in the five years since my prison release, rising from dishwasher at a small restaurant to sous-chef at one of the most prestigious kitchens in L.A. I was on a track toward running my own restaurant when a political kitchen battle suddenly left me begging for someone to give me a chance to start over. I hadn't been jobless this long since I'd left prison, and my prospects of landing a position hadn't been so bleak since then, either."--- COOKED: FROM THE STREETS TO THE STOVE, FROM COCAINE TO FOIE GRAS by JEFF HENDERSON.
"It began with a simple transaction inside a bustling nightclub, one of hundreds of comparable purchases that must have gone down on that drug-fogged night. In a dimly lit side room filled with vacant-eyed club kids, a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was surreptiously tendered in exchange for a small packet of white powder. Overcoming my initial nervousness, I flipped forward my long hair as cover, bowed my head, emptied some of the contents onto the back of my hand, exhaled hard, and then snorted up the strange substance, which scratched the inside of my nose like ground-up glass." -- CLUBLAND: THE FABULOUS RISE AND MURDEROUS FALL OF CLUB CULTURE by Frank Owen.
"You can't see anything in the dark waters of a saltwater inlet known as the Gorge, Sergeant Bob Wall was underwater, searching for the body of a girl." -- UNDER THE BRIDGE by Rebecca Godfrey.
"Mariam was five years old the first time she heard the word harami. It happened on a Thursday. It must have, because Mariam remembered she had been restless and preoccupied that day, the way she was only on Thursdays, the day when Jalil visited her at the kolba. To pass the time until the moment she would see him at last, crossing the knee-high grass in the clearing and waving, Mariam had climbed a chair and taken down her mother's Chinese tea set. The tea set was the sole relic that Mariam's mother, Nana, had of her own mother, who had died when Nana was two. Nana cherished each blue-and-white porcelain peice, the graceful curve of the pot's spout, the hand-painted finches and chrysanthemums, the dragon on the sugar bowl, meant to ward off evil." -- A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS by Khaled Hosseini. Hosseini also wrote THE KITE RUNNER.
"Maggie McElroy felt her soul spiral away from her in the year following her husband's death; she felt strange wherever she was. She needed walls to hold her. She could not seem to find an apartment small enough. In the end she moved to a boat." -- THE LAST CHINESE CHEF by NICOLE MONES.
Lastly, an abrupt change of subject, the writing staff saw the sets for the show yesterday. I'll tell ya, the Hollywood-magic of building something solely from the imagination still gets me everytime. I hope this never feels like a job. Even if I have to fool myself (and you know I'm good at that) I always want this to feel like having my eyes wide open in the middle of a dream. Thanks, Stacy, for pointing that out to me.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, TV Writing
6.18.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
So, I completed my first week at the new job. Great group of people, impressive bunch of writers, some of whom have written for or created some of my favorite one hour dramas. If your eyes are open you learn something new everyday but it's interesting to actively try and learn something new. So many gems (about writing, creating, etc) are dropped (casually) on a daily basis and I'm just there to scoop them up. I'm excited about the show in general and this process in particular.
In other news, we are coming up on that horrible time of year - 4th of July - when Kobe loses his mind and becomes a quivering bag of fur and bones. I truly don't know what to do and I know for a fact that it's only going to get worse as the holiday approaches. Because of the new gig, I can't just decamp for the Bay Area but it's enough to make me consider moving for only two weeks. This new neighborhood of ours (well, it's been a year and a half) is a little "too funky for primetime" sometimes and this bullshit addiction to fireworks falls firmly in that funky category. We have an appointment with the vet tomorrow for tranquilizers but they don't really work. All you get from what I've heard is a sleepy freaked out animal instead of a just a freaked out animal. I'd love to send him up north but my mom and sis can't handle him without me. What's a mother to do? No, seriously, that's a question...if any of you guys have the definitive answer -- LET ME KNOW.
RESCUE ME started up again last week and I was a little underwhelmed. One of my favorite shows but I didn't feel connected to it all this time around. Maybe I was still stung from that arrogant, disrespectful SOPRANOS finale. Yeah, yeah, I get it, "He's brilliant, it's a metaphor, it's perfect..." Naw, it was bullshit. Want to know how to pen a finale? Go back and look at the series end for SIX FEET UNDER. Still gives me a chill and it let me know that the creator of the show didn't actually hate his audience. Looking forward to diving back into BIG LOVE, THE CLOSER, ENTOURAGE and HEX and willing to give a chance to JOHN FROM CINCINNATI, FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS, and HEARTLAND. I'm sure there's more but that's all I can think of at this moment.
On the reading front, just finished NINETEEN MINUTES by JODI PICOULT. Confession. One of the only books that made me skip to the end, read the last four chapters and then go back to the middle. I felt so dirty but I had to know what happened. SONGS OF THE HUMPBACK WHALE was one of the first Picoult books I ever read.
THE BIG GIRLS by SUSANNA MOORE (one of my favorite authors) is next on the list. I also grabbed FRANK STITT'S SOUTHERN TABLE. It's so beautiful I don't even want to crack it open but despite the new job I continue on my cooking quest. Last week I gave in to G. GARVIN after my mom and sis called me with a "request". I tried out the COCONUT RICE AND BEANS and the HONEY-DIPPED FRIED CHICKEN. Long story short, the Crown Prince and I nearly bit off our own fingers. Damn. Last night I made the LAMB STEW because I am already sick of the commissary and the restaurants near the studio. Who knew I'd ever say that?
Lastly, if you're ever in Los Angeles check out CHICHEN ITZA in the downtown area. We ate there tonight and it was delicious. I read about it in the Los Angeles Times and it was worth every penny. I ordered the COCHINITA PIBIL and C.P. took the advice of the waiter and went for a seafood dish. Heaven. It reminded me of seaside restaurants in Mexico.
One more thing, a couple of you have written to ask about the wedding plans. No date yet but I think we'll elope. We both love the idea of driving up the coast to Santa Barbara or Montecito, checking into some swank location, getting all spit shined and polished, saying we how we feel and throwing a party for friends and family at a later date. That feels good to me because it feels like the two of us. And, this is really interesting, almost every bride I've spoken to has said they wished that they had done the same thing. Not EVERY bride but the majority. THAT is interesting in itself.
Until next time...
So, I completed my first week at the new job. Great group of people, impressive bunch of writers, some of whom have written for or created some of my favorite one hour dramas. If your eyes are open you learn something new everyday but it's interesting to actively try and learn something new. So many gems (about writing, creating, etc) are dropped (casually) on a daily basis and I'm just there to scoop them up. I'm excited about the show in general and this process in particular.
In other news, we are coming up on that horrible time of year - 4th of July - when Kobe loses his mind and becomes a quivering bag of fur and bones. I truly don't know what to do and I know for a fact that it's only going to get worse as the holiday approaches. Because of the new gig, I can't just decamp for the Bay Area but it's enough to make me consider moving for only two weeks. This new neighborhood of ours (well, it's been a year and a half) is a little "too funky for primetime" sometimes and this bullshit addiction to fireworks falls firmly in that funky category. We have an appointment with the vet tomorrow for tranquilizers but they don't really work. All you get from what I've heard is a sleepy freaked out animal instead of a just a freaked out animal. I'd love to send him up north but my mom and sis can't handle him without me. What's a mother to do? No, seriously, that's a question...if any of you guys have the definitive answer -- LET ME KNOW.
RESCUE ME started up again last week and I was a little underwhelmed. One of my favorite shows but I didn't feel connected to it all this time around. Maybe I was still stung from that arrogant, disrespectful SOPRANOS finale. Yeah, yeah, I get it, "He's brilliant, it's a metaphor, it's perfect..." Naw, it was bullshit. Want to know how to pen a finale? Go back and look at the series end for SIX FEET UNDER. Still gives me a chill and it let me know that the creator of the show didn't actually hate his audience. Looking forward to diving back into BIG LOVE, THE CLOSER, ENTOURAGE and HEX and willing to give a chance to JOHN FROM CINCINNATI, FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS, and HEARTLAND. I'm sure there's more but that's all I can think of at this moment.
On the reading front, just finished NINETEEN MINUTES by JODI PICOULT. Confession. One of the only books that made me skip to the end, read the last four chapters and then go back to the middle. I felt so dirty but I had to know what happened. SONGS OF THE HUMPBACK WHALE was one of the first Picoult books I ever read.
THE BIG GIRLS by SUSANNA MOORE (one of my favorite authors) is next on the list. I also grabbed FRANK STITT'S SOUTHERN TABLE. It's so beautiful I don't even want to crack it open but despite the new job I continue on my cooking quest. Last week I gave in to G. GARVIN after my mom and sis called me with a "request". I tried out the COCONUT RICE AND BEANS and the HONEY-DIPPED FRIED CHICKEN. Long story short, the Crown Prince and I nearly bit off our own fingers. Damn. Last night I made the LAMB STEW because I am already sick of the commissary and the restaurants near the studio. Who knew I'd ever say that?
Lastly, if you're ever in Los Angeles check out CHICHEN ITZA in the downtown area. We ate there tonight and it was delicious. I read about it in the Los Angeles Times and it was worth every penny. I ordered the COCHINITA PIBIL and C.P. took the advice of the waiter and went for a seafood dish. Heaven. It reminded me of seaside restaurants in Mexico.
One more thing, a couple of you have written to ask about the wedding plans. No date yet but I think we'll elope. We both love the idea of driving up the coast to Santa Barbara or Montecito, checking into some swank location, getting all spit shined and polished, saying we how we feel and throwing a party for friends and family at a later date. That feels good to me because it feels like the two of us. And, this is really interesting, almost every bride I've spoken to has said they wished that they had done the same thing. Not EVERY bride but the majority. THAT is interesting in itself.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Kobe, TV, TV Writing
6.07.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME, I SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT YOU, WITHOUT A STRONG RHYME TO STEP TO...THINK OF HOW MANY WEAK SHOWS YOU SLEPT THROUGH/TIME'S UP/SORRY I KEPT YOU..."
Just a little bit of the THE MASTER to start off your day. Yep, that's right, I said it...THE MASTER. Sorry, kids, you missed the Golden Age of Hip Hop. Strong words. I understand. But I stand by them. Right now you're picking tattered cloth from it's dead corpse. Man o man, do I miss RAKIM. You should too. LYRICS OF FURY? Not convinced? Well, here's a little MUSICAL MASSACRE to put in your mouth. So, come on now... just come to the side of the righteous and be done.
Anyway, how's everyone doing? Hope life is treating you kind. Sorry for the lack of posts but in addition to worshipping at the altar of Rakim (thank you, Youtube), I've had my program (which ended last night) and, of course, writing. I've also been "going on meetings" which is TV/Film industry parlance for interviewing. My agents and manager have been working overtime the past couple of months to get my writing samples into the hands of the right people (i.e., network and studio execs and SHOWRUNNERS). I had three samples that were sent to various shows that had openings at the Staff Writer level (aka "Baby Writer" positions). Because a lot of showrunners have started to promote their Writer's Assistants into that position the openings are fewer and fewer every season. Daunting, of course, but I tried not to think about that. The only thing I could control was my writing so that's what I did.
I had three TV script samples circulating and excerpts from THE DYING GROUND and THE LAST KING. I also used my short story (which I excerpted on this blog) "A BEST FRIEND NAMED RICK". A lot of material but in some cases still not enough so I kept writing. JANE ESPENSON keeps an informative blog about television writing. And for those of you who are interested in pursuing this route, here's a link to the ABC DISNEY WRITING FELLOWSHIPS. The deadline is coming up soon, people, so get your applications ready. The program pays $50,000 and includes medical/dental insurance. You learn while getting paid. It's competitive but if you're one of the lucky few more power to you. The fellows are assigned mentors at the network, the studio and on an ABC show. Not bad, huh? Polish off your writing samples and get your applications ready.
For the CBS program, I included a spec script for LAW & ORDER: SVU and A BEST FRIEND NAMED RICK. While in the program, I completed a spec episode of RESCUE ME. I also had an original one hour drama pilot that I completed last year. And here's where my honesty with you guys kicks in. I was so proud of my RESCUE ME spec. I thought it was by far the best of the three samples. Well, that wasn't the consensus around town. NOT. AT. ALL. So much so that my reps pulled it back and only used it as a sample with very specific people.
Because a lot of execs and showrunners wanted to read original material, the pilot opened a lot of doors for me. The SVU got people talking because I used pretty heinous story material but the RESCUE ME bewildered all but one exec over at NBC. A good lesson to remind me that you have to roll with the punches and not take anything personal. It's all subjective. Did it change how I felt about the RESCUE ME? Not one bit. I still think it's the best sample. Did I understand the decision to pull it back. Of course. At the end of the day we were all trying to get me a gig and if the sample wasn't working for the gatekeepers...then it had to go. I still think that it'll resurface later.
So, all that to say, I got an offer Tuesday to join a new network show that will air in the fall. Are we celebrating in this house? You bet. Even Kobe got in on it with treats from the DOG BAKERY. I know, I know, but right now he's our only child and we treat him as such. I am excited, a little scared, and until I get the okay, I am not going to name the show or the network or give any hints. In the meantime, here's a link to info about the NEW FALL SHOWS.
Anyway, remember at the beginning of all this, I agonized over what to wear to these meetings? It never got any easier for me but I did come up with a final uniform and in the process I got hooked on sneakers for the first time in my life. A couple years ago I saw a pair of ADIDAS designed by STELLA MCCARTNEY in Vogue magazine.
They retailed at $190.00 so I kept turning the page. I mean, really. I couldn't get them out of my head because they were so sharp. Last year I hunted them down on EBAY for much much less than the actual price and they became the staple in my meeting wardrobe.
The trick is to wear an outfit that indicates that you're easygoing. The people conducting the meetings want to feel that if they're stuck in a room with you for 10 hours that you're not going to be uptight. 10 hours can be normal in a writer's room in the middle of production and a suit and tie or a skirt, jacket and pumps in a meeting might indicate that you'll be too stiff to go with the flow. So, I wore jeans, the Stella's (I alternated between four different pairs. Told ya I got hooked on sneakers) and either a sweater that matched the sneakers, or a cool short sleeve T-shirt with a long sleeve T-shirt underneath. And, always a nice bag to top it all off.
That bag with the bronze Stella's and jeans completes the "writer look" I was going for. I guess it beats the sweats, pajamas, holey T-shirts and ratty bathrobe that I wear on a day to day basis. Lastly, THIS looks great. Can't wait until November when it hits the theaters.
Until next time...
IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME, I SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT YOU, WITHOUT A STRONG RHYME TO STEP TO...THINK OF HOW MANY WEAK SHOWS YOU SLEPT THROUGH/TIME'S UP/SORRY I KEPT YOU..."
Just a little bit of the THE MASTER to start off your day. Yep, that's right, I said it...THE MASTER. Sorry, kids, you missed the Golden Age of Hip Hop. Strong words. I understand. But I stand by them. Right now you're picking tattered cloth from it's dead corpse. Man o man, do I miss RAKIM. You should too. LYRICS OF FURY? Not convinced? Well, here's a little MUSICAL MASSACRE to put in your mouth. So, come on now... just come to the side of the righteous and be done.
Anyway, how's everyone doing? Hope life is treating you kind. Sorry for the lack of posts but in addition to worshipping at the altar of Rakim (thank you, Youtube), I've had my program (which ended last night) and, of course, writing. I've also been "going on meetings" which is TV/Film industry parlance for interviewing. My agents and manager have been working overtime the past couple of months to get my writing samples into the hands of the right people (i.e., network and studio execs and SHOWRUNNERS). I had three samples that were sent to various shows that had openings at the Staff Writer level (aka "Baby Writer" positions). Because a lot of showrunners have started to promote their Writer's Assistants into that position the openings are fewer and fewer every season. Daunting, of course, but I tried not to think about that. The only thing I could control was my writing so that's what I did.
I had three TV script samples circulating and excerpts from THE DYING GROUND and THE LAST KING. I also used my short story (which I excerpted on this blog) "A BEST FRIEND NAMED RICK". A lot of material but in some cases still not enough so I kept writing. JANE ESPENSON keeps an informative blog about television writing. And for those of you who are interested in pursuing this route, here's a link to the ABC DISNEY WRITING FELLOWSHIPS. The deadline is coming up soon, people, so get your applications ready. The program pays $50,000 and includes medical/dental insurance. You learn while getting paid. It's competitive but if you're one of the lucky few more power to you. The fellows are assigned mentors at the network, the studio and on an ABC show. Not bad, huh? Polish off your writing samples and get your applications ready.
For the CBS program, I included a spec script for LAW & ORDER: SVU and A BEST FRIEND NAMED RICK. While in the program, I completed a spec episode of RESCUE ME. I also had an original one hour drama pilot that I completed last year. And here's where my honesty with you guys kicks in. I was so proud of my RESCUE ME spec. I thought it was by far the best of the three samples. Well, that wasn't the consensus around town. NOT. AT. ALL. So much so that my reps pulled it back and only used it as a sample with very specific people.
Because a lot of execs and showrunners wanted to read original material, the pilot opened a lot of doors for me. The SVU got people talking because I used pretty heinous story material but the RESCUE ME bewildered all but one exec over at NBC. A good lesson to remind me that you have to roll with the punches and not take anything personal. It's all subjective. Did it change how I felt about the RESCUE ME? Not one bit. I still think it's the best sample. Did I understand the decision to pull it back. Of course. At the end of the day we were all trying to get me a gig and if the sample wasn't working for the gatekeepers...then it had to go. I still think that it'll resurface later.
So, all that to say, I got an offer Tuesday to join a new network show that will air in the fall. Are we celebrating in this house? You bet. Even Kobe got in on it with treats from the DOG BAKERY. I know, I know, but right now he's our only child and we treat him as such. I am excited, a little scared, and until I get the okay, I am not going to name the show or the network or give any hints. In the meantime, here's a link to info about the NEW FALL SHOWS.
Anyway, remember at the beginning of all this, I agonized over what to wear to these meetings? It never got any easier for me but I did come up with a final uniform and in the process I got hooked on sneakers for the first time in my life. A couple years ago I saw a pair of ADIDAS designed by STELLA MCCARTNEY in Vogue magazine.
They retailed at $190.00 so I kept turning the page. I mean, really. I couldn't get them out of my head because they were so sharp. Last year I hunted them down on EBAY for much much less than the actual price and they became the staple in my meeting wardrobe.
The trick is to wear an outfit that indicates that you're easygoing. The people conducting the meetings want to feel that if they're stuck in a room with you for 10 hours that you're not going to be uptight. 10 hours can be normal in a writer's room in the middle of production and a suit and tie or a skirt, jacket and pumps in a meeting might indicate that you'll be too stiff to go with the flow. So, I wore jeans, the Stella's (I alternated between four different pairs. Told ya I got hooked on sneakers) and either a sweater that matched the sneakers, or a cool short sleeve T-shirt with a long sleeve T-shirt underneath. And, always a nice bag to top it all off.
That bag with the bronze Stella's and jeans completes the "writer look" I was going for. I guess it beats the sweats, pajamas, holey T-shirts and ratty bathrobe that I wear on a day to day basis. Lastly, THIS looks great. Can't wait until November when it hits the theaters.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Rakim, TV, Writing Life
5.21.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
So, here's the deal. For the past year or so, the extra room in our place has been off limits to me. At first the Crown Prince claimed it as his "Man Room", you know the place where I had no authority. Just four walls and some windows where he could let it all hang out. I'd bop in once in awhile just to check on things, promptly pass out, (because I am a control and neat freak) and whenever I came to, I'd vow to never set foot in there again. Then, a series of misadventures made the space unavailable to both of us (long story) but now I've had enough. I reclaiming it for myself and you're looking at my first purchase. I mean, really, just how cool are these chairs? They retail for $1499 a piece. Yep, you read right but because of craigslist and an ex-girlfriend who wants all her ex-boyfriend's shit out of her house (paraphrasing) I got them for $60. Happy, happy Chelle.
I'm turning the room into a guest room/office/sanctuary/retreat/writers room of my own. A lot to ask of such a small space but I am up to the task. And since I'll be using the room to write I feel okay about talking about it on the blog. Somehow or another, all of this is supposed to come back to reading and writing. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I succeed.
Anyway, because I am obsessive and because I don't have enough on my plate, I've decided to undertake this renovation in the middle of writing, finishing my program and going out on meetings. Believe it or not it keeps me sane and when I'm done I'll have the perfect place to write future projects. The Washington Post recently ran an article about the use of lavendar in modern decor and the photo below (courtesy of the Washington Post) caught my eye.
I've been hunting down old furniture for awhile but I hadn't thought about painting furniture until I saw this picture. I like everything about it. I like the color of that table, the placement of the flowers, the books above and below, the art work, and the mirror as a prop. There's one corner between two windows where something like this would look really pretty. I'm thinking a five or ten dollar table with nice feminine lines and a brand new coat of paint.
I see this with a nice coat of that Ralph Lauren silver paint, an oversized vase with vibrant eye catching flowers with books and picture frames.
Or this one dressed in a bright color with a nice chair. Hmmm. The choices.
Right now, most of the rooms in my house are very sedate, kinda preppy (a little boring but comfortable) but in the new space "my space" I'm gonna go crazy with color. You have to go through two doors to get to this room and the idea of crossing two thresholds and sinking down into a color explosion sounds like heaven to me.
And (the biggest treat) I will finally be able to free all my books. Most of them have been in boxes and crates since I moved and I miss having all my friends around me. So, all that to say, I'll keep you posted on the progress and the final result.
Lastly, just can't get enough of THIS. Just wow!
Until next time...
So, here's the deal. For the past year or so, the extra room in our place has been off limits to me. At first the Crown Prince claimed it as his "Man Room", you know the place where I had no authority. Just four walls and some windows where he could let it all hang out. I'd bop in once in awhile just to check on things, promptly pass out, (because I am a control and neat freak) and whenever I came to, I'd vow to never set foot in there again. Then, a series of misadventures made the space unavailable to both of us (long story) but now I've had enough. I reclaiming it for myself and you're looking at my first purchase. I mean, really, just how cool are these chairs? They retail for $1499 a piece. Yep, you read right but because of craigslist and an ex-girlfriend who wants all her ex-boyfriend's shit out of her house (paraphrasing) I got them for $60. Happy, happy Chelle.
I'm turning the room into a guest room/office/sanctuary/retreat/writers room of my own. A lot to ask of such a small space but I am up to the task. And since I'll be using the room to write I feel okay about talking about it on the blog. Somehow or another, all of this is supposed to come back to reading and writing. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I succeed.
Anyway, because I am obsessive and because I don't have enough on my plate, I've decided to undertake this renovation in the middle of writing, finishing my program and going out on meetings. Believe it or not it keeps me sane and when I'm done I'll have the perfect place to write future projects. The Washington Post recently ran an article about the use of lavendar in modern decor and the photo below (courtesy of the Washington Post) caught my eye.
I've been hunting down old furniture for awhile but I hadn't thought about painting furniture until I saw this picture. I like everything about it. I like the color of that table, the placement of the flowers, the books above and below, the art work, and the mirror as a prop. There's one corner between two windows where something like this would look really pretty. I'm thinking a five or ten dollar table with nice feminine lines and a brand new coat of paint.
I see this with a nice coat of that Ralph Lauren silver paint, an oversized vase with vibrant eye catching flowers with books and picture frames.
Or this one dressed in a bright color with a nice chair. Hmmm. The choices.
Right now, most of the rooms in my house are very sedate, kinda preppy (a little boring but comfortable) but in the new space "my space" I'm gonna go crazy with color. You have to go through two doors to get to this room and the idea of crossing two thresholds and sinking down into a color explosion sounds like heaven to me.
And (the biggest treat) I will finally be able to free all my books. Most of them have been in boxes and crates since I moved and I miss having all my friends around me. So, all that to say, I'll keep you posted on the progress and the final result.
Lastly, just can't get enough of THIS. Just wow!
Until next time...
Labels: Books, Home Office, Short Story Writing
5.12.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
Well, you guys have been coming here long enough to know there's nothing I love more than a good rock and roll memoir/history book/autobiography or tell-all. I loved every dirty page of WALK THIS WAY: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AEROSMITH, STRAIGHT WHISKY and LAUREL CANYON: THE INSIDE HISTORY OF ROCK AND ROLL'S LEGENDARY NEIGHBORHOOD so I was beyond thrilled to see the mailman ambling up the walkway with a tell-tale package this week.
I'm going out of town for four days next week and it's taking every thing I have to save the book until I sit down on the plane. My first instinct is to bury my head in the book for the rest of the weekend but I made do with reading the introduction written by CARL HIAASEN. Okay, well, I also read the opening pages if you want to know the whole truth but then I dropped it into my luggage.
The book I'm so excited about is I'LL SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD: THE DIRTY LIFE AND TIMES OF WARREN ZEVON by CRYSTAL ZEVON. Here's a link to CHAPTER ONE and a nice TRIBUTE on youtube. Might make you sad, just giving you a warning.
After Zevon learned he had only three months to live he went to work completing an album for his fans, family and friends. THE WIND is that album, and the last song KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART is especially sweet. Pick up up the book if you can. If not, you can sign HERE to have Zevon added to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And, if you want a few laughs after that, how about some COWBELLS!!! ("Gene, really explore the studio space."-Hilarious!)
In other news, KELLY PARRA is on tour this week promoting GRAFFITI GIRL. You can read an excerpt HERE. Parra also BLOGS and she was kind enough to send in a desk photo. Check it out and what she has to say about it.
"This is my desk in all its piled glory with notes, books, two computers and lots of mess. And at the far left there's an old trophy I won in sixth grade for "Outstanding Language Arts". I tell myself it's a sign that I had some writing talent long before I knew it."
And JENNIFER O'CONNELL, touring to promote INSIDER DATING had the most original (but probably the most common) desk I've seen so far. Check out her BLOG then take a look at her "desk" down below...
"My desk is my lap - I'm usually in a chair with my feet up, laptop on my legs. Way more comfortable than sitting at a desk."
So, the network upfronts are next week and it's just as hectic as I'd always imagined. Actually, it's a little nuts though everyone I've met so far smiles right through the madness. DEADLINE HOLLYWOOD DAILY is up to the minute with pilot information and renewals for each network. Thrilled, of course, that FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS got a full season order from NBC. Very well done. I've read every single (yep, every single one) of the one hour drama pilots and I have to say that I am much better at handicapping than I was last year. Maybe it's because I'm smack dab in the middle of the program or, maybe, I've gotten a little more savvy. I'm not surprised by the rumored pick-ups and I have to say that there are some really exciting shows in the mix. The loglines (or two sentence descriptions) don't do justice to the majority of the pilots.
Anyway, I had a meeting earlier this week for one of the shows listed. To put it mildly I woke up in one of the worst moods I've had in a long time. I just felt like a beast and nothing could get me straightened out. I took the subway to the meeting because I truly wanted to spare the Crown Prince my rage/fury/black blanket of doom and I thought a good book on the train might chill me out. No such luck. But I'm a professional so I stood outside the studio gates and called my mother to talk me down off the ledge. She was great. Three minutes into the phone call she made me laugh which helped to shake off some of the crankiness. Then, just in case I was being hardheaded the universe sent me a little "perspective check".
After the call, I closed my phone, took a deep breath, and pulled out my I.D. And just at that moment a woman crossed the street in front of me wearing an aqua g-string, Reeboks with really thick tube socks and a pink lace see-through bra. Nothing else. That's it. She was a good two hundred pounds which meant she wasn't doing that g-string any favors. I blurted out, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph" before I could control myself. I never did pinpoint the source of my foul mood but once I saw that woman I understand completely that my situation/life could be soooooooo much worse. I straightened the f*c* out. Immediately. Actually, I felt like a creep. I'm not sure what her story was but it couldn't have been great if she was out in the world in such a horrible way. So I said a prayer. Then I said a couple more.
Until next time...
Well, you guys have been coming here long enough to know there's nothing I love more than a good rock and roll memoir/history book/autobiography or tell-all. I loved every dirty page of WALK THIS WAY: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AEROSMITH, STRAIGHT WHISKY and LAUREL CANYON: THE INSIDE HISTORY OF ROCK AND ROLL'S LEGENDARY NEIGHBORHOOD so I was beyond thrilled to see the mailman ambling up the walkway with a tell-tale package this week.
I'm going out of town for four days next week and it's taking every thing I have to save the book until I sit down on the plane. My first instinct is to bury my head in the book for the rest of the weekend but I made do with reading the introduction written by CARL HIAASEN. Okay, well, I also read the opening pages if you want to know the whole truth but then I dropped it into my luggage.
The book I'm so excited about is I'LL SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD: THE DIRTY LIFE AND TIMES OF WARREN ZEVON by CRYSTAL ZEVON. Here's a link to CHAPTER ONE and a nice TRIBUTE on youtube. Might make you sad, just giving you a warning.
After Zevon learned he had only three months to live he went to work completing an album for his fans, family and friends. THE WIND is that album, and the last song KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART is especially sweet. Pick up up the book if you can. If not, you can sign HERE to have Zevon added to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And, if you want a few laughs after that, how about some COWBELLS!!! ("Gene, really explore the studio space."-Hilarious!)
In other news, KELLY PARRA is on tour this week promoting GRAFFITI GIRL. You can read an excerpt HERE. Parra also BLOGS and she was kind enough to send in a desk photo. Check it out and what she has to say about it.
"This is my desk in all its piled glory with notes, books, two computers and lots of mess. And at the far left there's an old trophy I won in sixth grade for "Outstanding Language Arts". I tell myself it's a sign that I had some writing talent long before I knew it."
And JENNIFER O'CONNELL, touring to promote INSIDER DATING had the most original (but probably the most common) desk I've seen so far. Check out her BLOG then take a look at her "desk" down below...
"My desk is my lap - I'm usually in a chair with my feet up, laptop on my legs. Way more comfortable than sitting at a desk."
So, the network upfronts are next week and it's just as hectic as I'd always imagined. Actually, it's a little nuts though everyone I've met so far smiles right through the madness. DEADLINE HOLLYWOOD DAILY is up to the minute with pilot information and renewals for each network. Thrilled, of course, that FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS got a full season order from NBC. Very well done. I've read every single (yep, every single one) of the one hour drama pilots and I have to say that I am much better at handicapping than I was last year. Maybe it's because I'm smack dab in the middle of the program or, maybe, I've gotten a little more savvy. I'm not surprised by the rumored pick-ups and I have to say that there are some really exciting shows in the mix. The loglines (or two sentence descriptions) don't do justice to the majority of the pilots.
Anyway, I had a meeting earlier this week for one of the shows listed. To put it mildly I woke up in one of the worst moods I've had in a long time. I just felt like a beast and nothing could get me straightened out. I took the subway to the meeting because I truly wanted to spare the Crown Prince my rage/fury/black blanket of doom and I thought a good book on the train might chill me out. No such luck. But I'm a professional so I stood outside the studio gates and called my mother to talk me down off the ledge. She was great. Three minutes into the phone call she made me laugh which helped to shake off some of the crankiness. Then, just in case I was being hardheaded the universe sent me a little "perspective check".
After the call, I closed my phone, took a deep breath, and pulled out my I.D. And just at that moment a woman crossed the street in front of me wearing an aqua g-string, Reeboks with really thick tube socks and a pink lace see-through bra. Nothing else. That's it. She was a good two hundred pounds which meant she wasn't doing that g-string any favors. I blurted out, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph" before I could control myself. I never did pinpoint the source of my foul mood but once I saw that woman I understand completely that my situation/life could be soooooooo much worse. I straightened the f*c* out. Immediately. Actually, I felt like a creep. I'm not sure what her story was but it couldn't have been great if she was out in the world in such a horrible way. So I said a prayer. Then I said a couple more.
Until next time...
Labels: Books, GCC, Rock-n-Roll, TV
4.29.2007
TRAMBLINGS...
So, once in awhile you run across something so rich that you just can't help sharing it with friends and strangers. I made a trip to the library this afternoon to pick up a couple novels and a couple dozen nonfiction titles specific to an on-going project. In that nonfiction pile, I came across 10,000 DREAMS INTERPRETED OR WHAT'S IN A DREAM by Gustavus Hindman Miller.
Here is Miller on the Negroes...
"To dream of seeing a negro standing on your green lawn, is a sign that while your immediate future seems filled with prosperity and sweetest joys, there will creep into it unavoidable discord, which will veil all brightness in gloom for a season.
To dream of seeing a burly negro, denotes formidable rivals in affection and business.
To dream of a difficulty with a negro, signifies your inabilty to overcome disagreeable surroundings. It also denotes disappointment and ill fortune.
For a young woman to dream of a negro, she will be constrained to work for her own support, or be disappointed in her lover.
For a young woman to dream of being held by a negro, portends for her many disagreeable duties. She is likely to meet with and give displeasure. She will quarrel with her dearest friends.
Sickness sometimes follows dreams of old negroes.
To see one nude (a negro), abject despair, and failure to cope with treachery may follow. Enemies will work you and signal harm, and bad news from the absent may be expected.
To meet with a trusty negro in a place where he ought not to be, foretells you will be deceived by some person in whom you placed great confidence. You are likely to be much exasperated over the conduct of a servant or some person under your orders. Delays and vexations may follow.
To think that you are preaching to negroes is a warning to protect your interest, as false friends are dealing surreptitiously with you. To hear a negro preaching denotes you will be greatly worried over material matters and servants are giving cause for uneasiness."
Damn. I am rarely speechless but damn. Of course, I read it over the phone to my friend C. Murray who promptly hung up on me. Not quite a dead bunny conversation but pretty darn close. The book - just to be clear - was published somewhere between 1901-1910.
Here's a quote that sorta sums up the madness. “I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I am not sure that you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”...Or something like that. My M.O. has always been to find humor in the absurd which means that I chose to find those quotes - hilarious.
Here's Miller on women...
"To see a dark-haired woman with blue eyes and a pug nose, definitely determines your withdrawal from a race in which you stood a showing for victory. If she has brown eyes and a Roman nose, you will be cajoled into a dangerous speculation. If she has auburn hair with this combination, it adds to your perplexity and anxiety. If she is a blonde, you will find that all your engagements will be pleasant and favorable to your inclinations." -- I especially love that last sentence. No bias there.
Lastly, the Atlanta Journal Constitution decided to eliminate the book review section. Horrible mistake! Unfortunately, way too many newspapers around the country are following this trend. It has to stop. Please, please, please SIGN THE PETITION to save the book review section. Much appreciated in advance.
Until next time...(watch out for negroes and women when you fall asleep)...
So, once in awhile you run across something so rich that you just can't help sharing it with friends and strangers. I made a trip to the library this afternoon to pick up a couple novels and a couple dozen nonfiction titles specific to an on-going project. In that nonfiction pile, I came across 10,000 DREAMS INTERPRETED OR WHAT'S IN A DREAM by Gustavus Hindman Miller.
Here is Miller on the Negroes...
"To dream of seeing a negro standing on your green lawn, is a sign that while your immediate future seems filled with prosperity and sweetest joys, there will creep into it unavoidable discord, which will veil all brightness in gloom for a season.
To dream of seeing a burly negro, denotes formidable rivals in affection and business.
To dream of a difficulty with a negro, signifies your inabilty to overcome disagreeable surroundings. It also denotes disappointment and ill fortune.
For a young woman to dream of a negro, she will be constrained to work for her own support, or be disappointed in her lover.
For a young woman to dream of being held by a negro, portends for her many disagreeable duties. She is likely to meet with and give displeasure. She will quarrel with her dearest friends.
Sickness sometimes follows dreams of old negroes.
To see one nude (a negro), abject despair, and failure to cope with treachery may follow. Enemies will work you and signal harm, and bad news from the absent may be expected.
To meet with a trusty negro in a place where he ought not to be, foretells you will be deceived by some person in whom you placed great confidence. You are likely to be much exasperated over the conduct of a servant or some person under your orders. Delays and vexations may follow.
To think that you are preaching to negroes is a warning to protect your interest, as false friends are dealing surreptitiously with you. To hear a negro preaching denotes you will be greatly worried over material matters and servants are giving cause for uneasiness."
Damn. I am rarely speechless but damn. Of course, I read it over the phone to my friend C. Murray who promptly hung up on me. Not quite a dead bunny conversation but pretty darn close. The book - just to be clear - was published somewhere between 1901-1910.
Here's a quote that sorta sums up the madness. “I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I am not sure that you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”...Or something like that. My M.O. has always been to find humor in the absurd which means that I chose to find those quotes - hilarious.
Here's Miller on women...
"To see a dark-haired woman with blue eyes and a pug nose, definitely determines your withdrawal from a race in which you stood a showing for victory. If she has brown eyes and a Roman nose, you will be cajoled into a dangerous speculation. If she has auburn hair with this combination, it adds to your perplexity and anxiety. If she is a blonde, you will find that all your engagements will be pleasant and favorable to your inclinations." -- I especially love that last sentence. No bias there.
Lastly, the Atlanta Journal Constitution decided to eliminate the book review section. Horrible mistake! Unfortunately, way too many newspapers around the country are following this trend. It has to stop. Please, please, please SIGN THE PETITION to save the book review section. Much appreciated in advance.
Until next time...(watch out for negroes and women when you fall asleep)...
Labels: Books, Dreams, Petition
3.08.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
Hello, Beautiful People. MELANIE LYNNE HAUSER is on tour this week promoting her new novel, SUPER MOM SAVES THE WORLD Check out Melanie on YOU TUBE. (Authors take note, what a great idea!) You can read an excerpt HERE. Take a look. Enjoy!
Good news. I finished my TV spec script on Tuesday night at 11:59p.m. And when I say finished, I mean FINISHED. I turned it in to my reps and my mentor at the network. Iniitally, I planned to complete the draft by February 28th but I came in about a week late when I reconfigured a dinner party in the third act. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my mentor in order to get her notes. I expect to hear from my reps either this evening - or Monday - after the weekend read.
The Crown Prince read pages and gave his critique as I went along. As usual, he was razor sharp and to the point. He really helped me punch up my jokes and excavate the ones that I'd buried inside of dialogue. On the second read I realized I'd done that quite a bit. I wrote a couple decent jokes (I caught C.P. laughing out loud at least five times) but then I'd add two or three more lines of dialogue which meant the joke got lost. C.P. is a natural comedian so he freed the jokes from their cages and inserted beats that built the jokes into 3-steps. Now, isn't that a good enough reason to keep him around?
My next step is to outline and write a new pilot for another one hour drama. Last summer and fall I wrote a "soft" family drama. This time it's hard-boiled, male-driven dark crime for me. Surprise, surprise. I came across the idea while home visiting my mother last year. Initially, because I had so much on my plate and I didn't know I'd been accepted into the program, I "gave" the idea to C.P. Well, lent, might be a better word because I took it back once I realized he wasn't going to do anything with it. And, I have to tell you, I am really excited about it. I broke down the four lead characters and the three supporting over the weekend. I also did a little online research on crime laws in the state of California once I decided to set the show in Los Angeles.
Speaking of Los Angeles, my editor finally got back to me and she really liked the 200 pages I sent to her a couple weeks ago. Her encouraging email motivated me to power through these last pages. My new, self-imposed deadline is now June 30th. I'd like to finish the book and the pilot around the same time which means I am dividing my day into two four hour work blocks. We'll see how that goes. In the middle of all this madness, I am reading manuscripts and proposals for a couple of friends. It's a nice break from my own work but I've felt terrible because I haven't been able to be as timely as I'd like to be. Usually, I aim for a 2-3 week turnaround and it's been much longer than that for at least 2 of the 4 people. No excuses but every week, when I attend my program meeting, I realize what a competitive situation I am in so I've tried to stay focused. There are nine of us in the program this year, the largest group the network has ever dealt with, and we've all come together as a team. Everyone's very supportive of everyone else and we've found the time the past couple weeks to go out for meals or drinks after our sessions. The group is made up of both comedy and drama writers with varying levels of experience. One woman is already working as a staff writer on a one hour drama that will debut this summer. Very cool.
Two weeks ago an Acting Coach was brought in to lead improv sessions for us writers. It was the first time I wanted to miss a meeting. The idea of getting up and performing in front of a room full of people sent me into panic mode. Seriously. My heart raced the whole time and I was sweating like I'd run a marathon. Not cute but I couldn't "find my center" as we say here in California. All I saw was little silver stars swirling around my head. We did four different "exercises", all uncomfortable (for me) but the worst were the improv scenes we performed with a partner. I admitted my anxiety when I took the stage so the coach gave me specific direction. My scene: I was the manager of a mom and pop video store and my employee, a college student, thought he was above menial tasks. I had to convince him to sweep the floor before the store opened. The scene went fine, I got a few laughs, but mostly I learned that my default personality (when I'm nervous) is mean as a snake.
Okay, apparently, that wasn't a surprise to anyone but me but I accomplished the goal by bullying my employee into submission. It was fun but truly terrifying. And, last night, we conducted our network meetings in front of the entire group then sat through a follow-up critique. My report card: cold and aloof until I relaxed and realized the exec was actually interested in what I had to say then it went great. C.P. said he knew exactly what they meant when I told him later. Actually, my girlfriend said she knew too. Unbeknownst to me, I throw up a cold front until I get comfortable. Everyone has some form of self-protection and I guess that's mine. Something I'll look out for and work to get under control.
Until next time. . .
Hello, Beautiful People. MELANIE LYNNE HAUSER is on tour this week promoting her new novel, SUPER MOM SAVES THE WORLD Check out Melanie on YOU TUBE. (Authors take note, what a great idea!) You can read an excerpt HERE. Take a look. Enjoy!
Good news. I finished my TV spec script on Tuesday night at 11:59p.m. And when I say finished, I mean FINISHED. I turned it in to my reps and my mentor at the network. Iniitally, I planned to complete the draft by February 28th but I came in about a week late when I reconfigured a dinner party in the third act. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my mentor in order to get her notes. I expect to hear from my reps either this evening - or Monday - after the weekend read.
The Crown Prince read pages and gave his critique as I went along. As usual, he was razor sharp and to the point. He really helped me punch up my jokes and excavate the ones that I'd buried inside of dialogue. On the second read I realized I'd done that quite a bit. I wrote a couple decent jokes (I caught C.P. laughing out loud at least five times) but then I'd add two or three more lines of dialogue which meant the joke got lost. C.P. is a natural comedian so he freed the jokes from their cages and inserted beats that built the jokes into 3-steps. Now, isn't that a good enough reason to keep him around?
My next step is to outline and write a new pilot for another one hour drama. Last summer and fall I wrote a "soft" family drama. This time it's hard-boiled, male-driven dark crime for me. Surprise, surprise. I came across the idea while home visiting my mother last year. Initially, because I had so much on my plate and I didn't know I'd been accepted into the program, I "gave" the idea to C.P. Well, lent, might be a better word because I took it back once I realized he wasn't going to do anything with it. And, I have to tell you, I am really excited about it. I broke down the four lead characters and the three supporting over the weekend. I also did a little online research on crime laws in the state of California once I decided to set the show in Los Angeles.
Speaking of Los Angeles, my editor finally got back to me and she really liked the 200 pages I sent to her a couple weeks ago. Her encouraging email motivated me to power through these last pages. My new, self-imposed deadline is now June 30th. I'd like to finish the book and the pilot around the same time which means I am dividing my day into two four hour work blocks. We'll see how that goes. In the middle of all this madness, I am reading manuscripts and proposals for a couple of friends. It's a nice break from my own work but I've felt terrible because I haven't been able to be as timely as I'd like to be. Usually, I aim for a 2-3 week turnaround and it's been much longer than that for at least 2 of the 4 people. No excuses but every week, when I attend my program meeting, I realize what a competitive situation I am in so I've tried to stay focused. There are nine of us in the program this year, the largest group the network has ever dealt with, and we've all come together as a team. Everyone's very supportive of everyone else and we've found the time the past couple weeks to go out for meals or drinks after our sessions. The group is made up of both comedy and drama writers with varying levels of experience. One woman is already working as a staff writer on a one hour drama that will debut this summer. Very cool.
Two weeks ago an Acting Coach was brought in to lead improv sessions for us writers. It was the first time I wanted to miss a meeting. The idea of getting up and performing in front of a room full of people sent me into panic mode. Seriously. My heart raced the whole time and I was sweating like I'd run a marathon. Not cute but I couldn't "find my center" as we say here in California. All I saw was little silver stars swirling around my head. We did four different "exercises", all uncomfortable (for me) but the worst were the improv scenes we performed with a partner. I admitted my anxiety when I took the stage so the coach gave me specific direction. My scene: I was the manager of a mom and pop video store and my employee, a college student, thought he was above menial tasks. I had to convince him to sweep the floor before the store opened. The scene went fine, I got a few laughs, but mostly I learned that my default personality (when I'm nervous) is mean as a snake.
Okay, apparently, that wasn't a surprise to anyone but me but I accomplished the goal by bullying my employee into submission. It was fun but truly terrifying. And, last night, we conducted our network meetings in front of the entire group then sat through a follow-up critique. My report card: cold and aloof until I relaxed and realized the exec was actually interested in what I had to say then it went great. C.P. said he knew exactly what they meant when I told him later. Actually, my girlfriend said she knew too. Unbeknownst to me, I throw up a cold front until I get comfortable. Everyone has some form of self-protection and I guess that's mine. Something I'll look out for and work to get under control.
Until next time. . .
Labels: Books, GCC, Writing Program
3.04.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
Howdy. Hope the world is treating you kind. A couple books for you...
"My first week at work I spelled the word "business" wrong. I sat in the library-style chair in front of Jerome's desk with my legs spread wide apart like a man on the subway. I winked at him seductively and pursed my lips while he continued to compain about my spelling. He kept talking about how it was completely unacceptable to spell a word like "business" wrong. "Was it sloppiness or do you really not know how to spell it?" he asked. That was a no-win question." - - HIGH MAINTENANCE by JENNIFER BELLE. (Glad to hear Belle has a new novel, LITTLE STALKER, on the horizon. I've been waiting). GOING DOWN is also worth a trip to the bookstore, library or friend's bookshelf. Belle has a wicked sense of humor.
"She was his first wife, but at the moment when he first saw her she was a seventeen-year-old girl named Arlyn Singer who stood out on the front porch on an evening that seemed suspended in time. Arlyn's father had just died and the funeral dinner had ended only hours earlier. It was a somber gathering: a dozen neighbors seated around the heavy mahogany dining-room table no one had used for over a decade. Now there were pans of macaroni and cheese and a red velvet cake and a huge platter of fruit, food enough to last a month if Arlie had had an appetite." -- SKYLIGHT CONFESSIONS by ALICE HOFFMAN.
"The rolling hills of southeast Oklahoma stretch from Norman across to Arkansas and show little evidence of the vast deposits of crude oil that were once beneath them. Some old rigs dot the countryside; the active ones churn on, pumping out a few gallons with each slow turn and prompting a passerby to ask if the effort is really worth it. Many have simply given up, and sit motionless amid the fields as corroding reminders of the glory days of gushers and wildcatters and instant fortunes." -- THE INNOCENT MAN: MURDER AND INJUSTICE IN A SMALL TOWN by JOHN GRISHAM. (This is Grisham's nonfiction title that got a boatload of rave reviews).
"The hours of Walker and Daughter: Knitters were clearly displayed in multicolored letters on a white sandwich board placed just so at the top of the stair landing. Though Georgia Walker - usually preoccupied with closing out the till and picking up the strays of yarn on the floor - rarely made a move to turn the lock until at least eight fifteen. . . or later. Instead, she sat on her stool at the counter, tuning out the traffic noise from New York's busy Broadway below, reflecting on the day's sales or prepping for the beginner's knitting class she taught every afternoon to the stay-at-homes lookig for some seeming stamp of authentic motherliness." -- THE FRIDAY NIGHT KNITTING CLUB by KATIE JACOBS.
"To the public eye, the spouses of well-known writers are all but invisible, and no one knew it better than Lisey Landon. Her husband had won the Pulitzer and the National Book Award, but Lisey had given only one interview in her life. This was for the well-known women's magazine that publishes the column "Yes, I'm Married to Him!" She spent roughly half of its five hundred word length explaining that her nickname ryhmed with "CeeCee." Most of the other half had to do with her recipe for slow-cooked roast beef. Lisey's sister Amanda said that the picture accompanying the interview made Lisey look fat." -- LISEY'S STORY by STEPHEN KING.
I also finished reading LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME. Perfect book for a chair by the window on a lazy Sunday afternoon even though I cried my way through the whole thing. I know I've already mentioned this book twice on this blog but it's worth it. Sheffield writes with so much love about a woman he had in his life for such a short time. It's sad, of course, but it's also funny and filled with great musical references. Nostalgia, to me, is a hard emotion to capture on the page but Sheffield did it brilliantly. Everytime he mentioned a song, a band or a musical lyric it sent me traveling back in time. Well done. Here are some of the things that stuck out to me in the book.
"Barbara Stanwyck in Clash By Night, she's so cool and tough and unflappable, until she goes to a bar and gets jumped by a song on the jukebox, "I Hear a Rhapsody." She starts to ramble about a husband who died and a small town where she used to sell sheet music. She's not so tough now. You can't get away from the meanest jukebox in town.". page 14. (Love the phrase "jumped by a song". Great. Perfectly captures those random moments when a song sneaks up and tears you to pieces).
"She called to say it was over. Well, not in those words - what she said was, "I'm fed up to my back teeth with you." . page 54. (Hell of a way for someone to break up with you but it made me laugh).
"Renee was my hero. Have you ever had a hero? Someone who says, I think it would be a good idea for you to steal a car and set it on fire then drive off a cliff, and you say, Automatic or standard? That's what was Renee was. A lion-hearted take-charge southern gal. It didn't take long for us to get all tangled up in each other's hair." page 65. (Sheffield riffing on his deceased wife).
"In Unplugged, Kurt (Cobain) begins with a wedding ("I dooo") and spends the rest of the show living out the promise, sinking his fangs into a lover who has married him and buried him. He's trapped inside her "Heart-Shaped Box." She's somebody he will never let go of, somebody whose cancer he'd eat to keep her alive, somebody he'll never leave no matter how toxic she gets. This woman might be named Mary, like in "All Apologies," or she might be named Anna Maria, like in "Come As You Are." Or she might even be named Courtney. Either way, he's stuck to her. He can't let go. Till death do them part." page 128. (On Kurt Cobain singing about marriage and love).
"I remember the summer of 1996, at a drunken wedding with one of my professors, a Hendrix-freak baby boomer, when he was complaining about the "bullet-in-the-head rock and roll" the kids were listening to today and he asked Renee, "What does rock and roll have today that it didn't have in the sixties?" Renee said, "Tits," which in retrospect strikes me as not a bad one-word-off-the-dome answer at all. The nineties fad for indie rock overlapped precisely with the nineties fad for feminism. The idea of a pop culture that was pro-girl, or even just not anti-girl." page 216. (Loved everything about that passage).
". . .sometimes I think, man, all the people I get to hear this song with, we're going to miss each other when we die. When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other." page 217. (Nice, huh?)
"I was in the kitchen making lunch for Renee - cinnamon toast and coffee. Renee stood up, took a step, and then suddenly fell over onto the chair. . .The coroner later told me that she died instantly." page 141. (Part of the section I initially read as a magazine excerpt).
"I thought, There is nowhere else in the universe I would rather be at this moment. I could count the places I would not rather be. I've always wanted to see New Zealand, but I'd rather be here. The majestic ruins of Machu Picchu? I'd rather be here. A hillside in Cuenca, Spain, sipping coffee and watching leaves fall? Not even close. There is nowhere else I could imagine wanting to be besides here in this car, with this girl, on this road, listening to this song. If she breaks my heart, no matter what hell she puts me through, I can say it was worth it, just because of right now. Out the window is a blur and all I can really hear is this girl's hair flapping in the wind, and maybe if we drive fast enough the universe will lose track of us and forget to stick us somewhere else." page 70. (Now, do you see why I cried?')
Until next time. . .
Howdy. Hope the world is treating you kind. A couple books for you...
"My first week at work I spelled the word "business" wrong. I sat in the library-style chair in front of Jerome's desk with my legs spread wide apart like a man on the subway. I winked at him seductively and pursed my lips while he continued to compain about my spelling. He kept talking about how it was completely unacceptable to spell a word like "business" wrong. "Was it sloppiness or do you really not know how to spell it?" he asked. That was a no-win question." - - HIGH MAINTENANCE by JENNIFER BELLE. (Glad to hear Belle has a new novel, LITTLE STALKER, on the horizon. I've been waiting). GOING DOWN is also worth a trip to the bookstore, library or friend's bookshelf. Belle has a wicked sense of humor.
"She was his first wife, but at the moment when he first saw her she was a seventeen-year-old girl named Arlyn Singer who stood out on the front porch on an evening that seemed suspended in time. Arlyn's father had just died and the funeral dinner had ended only hours earlier. It was a somber gathering: a dozen neighbors seated around the heavy mahogany dining-room table no one had used for over a decade. Now there were pans of macaroni and cheese and a red velvet cake and a huge platter of fruit, food enough to last a month if Arlie had had an appetite." -- SKYLIGHT CONFESSIONS by ALICE HOFFMAN.
"The rolling hills of southeast Oklahoma stretch from Norman across to Arkansas and show little evidence of the vast deposits of crude oil that were once beneath them. Some old rigs dot the countryside; the active ones churn on, pumping out a few gallons with each slow turn and prompting a passerby to ask if the effort is really worth it. Many have simply given up, and sit motionless amid the fields as corroding reminders of the glory days of gushers and wildcatters and instant fortunes." -- THE INNOCENT MAN: MURDER AND INJUSTICE IN A SMALL TOWN by JOHN GRISHAM. (This is Grisham's nonfiction title that got a boatload of rave reviews).
"The hours of Walker and Daughter: Knitters were clearly displayed in multicolored letters on a white sandwich board placed just so at the top of the stair landing. Though Georgia Walker - usually preoccupied with closing out the till and picking up the strays of yarn on the floor - rarely made a move to turn the lock until at least eight fifteen. . . or later. Instead, she sat on her stool at the counter, tuning out the traffic noise from New York's busy Broadway below, reflecting on the day's sales or prepping for the beginner's knitting class she taught every afternoon to the stay-at-homes lookig for some seeming stamp of authentic motherliness." -- THE FRIDAY NIGHT KNITTING CLUB by KATIE JACOBS.
"To the public eye, the spouses of well-known writers are all but invisible, and no one knew it better than Lisey Landon. Her husband had won the Pulitzer and the National Book Award, but Lisey had given only one interview in her life. This was for the well-known women's magazine that publishes the column "Yes, I'm Married to Him!" She spent roughly half of its five hundred word length explaining that her nickname ryhmed with "CeeCee." Most of the other half had to do with her recipe for slow-cooked roast beef. Lisey's sister Amanda said that the picture accompanying the interview made Lisey look fat." -- LISEY'S STORY by STEPHEN KING.
I also finished reading LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME. Perfect book for a chair by the window on a lazy Sunday afternoon even though I cried my way through the whole thing. I know I've already mentioned this book twice on this blog but it's worth it. Sheffield writes with so much love about a woman he had in his life for such a short time. It's sad, of course, but it's also funny and filled with great musical references. Nostalgia, to me, is a hard emotion to capture on the page but Sheffield did it brilliantly. Everytime he mentioned a song, a band or a musical lyric it sent me traveling back in time. Well done. Here are some of the things that stuck out to me in the book.
"Barbara Stanwyck in Clash By Night, she's so cool and tough and unflappable, until she goes to a bar and gets jumped by a song on the jukebox, "I Hear a Rhapsody." She starts to ramble about a husband who died and a small town where she used to sell sheet music. She's not so tough now. You can't get away from the meanest jukebox in town.". page 14. (Love the phrase "jumped by a song". Great. Perfectly captures those random moments when a song sneaks up and tears you to pieces).
"She called to say it was over. Well, not in those words - what she said was, "I'm fed up to my back teeth with you." . page 54. (Hell of a way for someone to break up with you but it made me laugh).
"Renee was my hero. Have you ever had a hero? Someone who says, I think it would be a good idea for you to steal a car and set it on fire then drive off a cliff, and you say, Automatic or standard? That's what was Renee was. A lion-hearted take-charge southern gal. It didn't take long for us to get all tangled up in each other's hair." page 65. (Sheffield riffing on his deceased wife).
"In Unplugged, Kurt (Cobain) begins with a wedding ("I dooo") and spends the rest of the show living out the promise, sinking his fangs into a lover who has married him and buried him. He's trapped inside her "Heart-Shaped Box." She's somebody he will never let go of, somebody whose cancer he'd eat to keep her alive, somebody he'll never leave no matter how toxic she gets. This woman might be named Mary, like in "All Apologies," or she might be named Anna Maria, like in "Come As You Are." Or she might even be named Courtney. Either way, he's stuck to her. He can't let go. Till death do them part." page 128. (On Kurt Cobain singing about marriage and love).
"I remember the summer of 1996, at a drunken wedding with one of my professors, a Hendrix-freak baby boomer, when he was complaining about the "bullet-in-the-head rock and roll" the kids were listening to today and he asked Renee, "What does rock and roll have today that it didn't have in the sixties?" Renee said, "Tits," which in retrospect strikes me as not a bad one-word-off-the-dome answer at all. The nineties fad for indie rock overlapped precisely with the nineties fad for feminism. The idea of a pop culture that was pro-girl, or even just not anti-girl." page 216. (Loved everything about that passage).
". . .sometimes I think, man, all the people I get to hear this song with, we're going to miss each other when we die. When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other." page 217. (Nice, huh?)
"I was in the kitchen making lunch for Renee - cinnamon toast and coffee. Renee stood up, took a step, and then suddenly fell over onto the chair. . .The coroner later told me that she died instantly." page 141. (Part of the section I initially read as a magazine excerpt).
"I thought, There is nowhere else in the universe I would rather be at this moment. I could count the places I would not rather be. I've always wanted to see New Zealand, but I'd rather be here. The majestic ruins of Machu Picchu? I'd rather be here. A hillside in Cuenca, Spain, sipping coffee and watching leaves fall? Not even close. There is nowhere else I could imagine wanting to be besides here in this car, with this girl, on this road, listening to this song. If she breaks my heart, no matter what hell she puts me through, I can say it was worth it, just because of right now. Out the window is a blur and all I can really hear is this girl's hair flapping in the wind, and maybe if we drive fast enough the universe will lose track of us and forget to stick us somewhere else." page 70. (Now, do you see why I cried?')
Until next time. . .
Labels: Books, Love is a Mix Tape
2.26.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
Okay, ya'll know by now that I am an all-day grape-flavored sucker for the OSCARS so last night was one of my favorite nights of the year. I'll admit it was a little long (okay, too long) but I enjoyed the show. I'm not hard to please. When I was little I'd panic if I wasn't sufficiently "dressed up" to watch the show. High maintenance kid but my mom was understanding and indulgent. So, every year, there I was perched on a pillow in front of the TV, wearing a party dress and slippers. This year, it was a little more sophisticated. The Crown Prince and I went to a party thrown by one of his friends. Great time. Good food. Nice people-- I think.
I stayed in the living room with the serious watchers. The "talk over the speeches" people were in the backyard. Never made it out there. Heard there were at least fifty people but C.P. brought food to me in front and I wasn't giving up my seat. Happy girl. He's always the social butterfly and I get the folks who come up and say, "Oh, you must be Chelle. C.P. said I could find you here." The caterers cooked up homemade donuts (on the premises) for a treat and C.P. snagged me some and Oscar-shaped cookies. What more can you ask for?
On Friday, in preparation for the awards, I watched BABEL, (I know people hated this movie but I didn't - AT ALL. Really loved it.) NOTES ON A SCANDAL (superb acting), WORLD TRADE CENTER (emotional) and UNITED 93. Still have to see LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, HALF NELSON, LITTLE CHILDREN and PAN'S LABYRINTH. I was glad to see Forest Whitaker win but felt a little sad for Peter O'Toole. Jennifer Hudson's speech was nice but what in the world was up with MICHAEL ARNDT'S sell-out speech about "directors being the real authors." Not loving that sentiment. Unless a director is specifically a writer/director they ARE NOT the ones battling a blank page.
I understand where Arndt was going with his entire speech (it was emotional and genuine) but I worked at the Director's Guild when I first moved to L.A (taking minutes at their board meeting) and, let me tell you, there is NO LOVE LOST between directors and writers. The contempt they held for writers was mind blowing to a novice like me, but after years in this town the disrespect seems to be a permanent part of the landscape. I fight it every step of the way and demand respect. You're not giving to me, fine, I'll take it from you. And, believe me, directors rarely want to give it. Read a couple interviews and you'll see what I mean. But, just to be fair and give Arndt the benefit of the doubt, I'll allow that maybe, the directors on this particular film were instrumental in the writing of the script. Could be true but, still, an unfortunate choice of words. Nice speech overall, loved the movie, yet I hated that small sentence in an otherwise lovely moment. Moving on to . . . BOOKS.
"It was another hot night, dry and windless. The kind that makes people do sweaty, secret things. I wait and I listen."-- A DAME TO KILL FOR: FRANK MILLER'S SIN CITY by FRANK MILLER.
"The haunt of Grand Central Station was a small girl with matted hair and dirty clothes. She appeared only in the commuter hours, morning and evening, when the child believed that she could go invisibly among the throng of travelers in crisscrossing foot traffic, as if that incredible face could go anywhere without atrracting stares. Conccessionaires reached for their phones to call the number on a policeman's card and say, "She's back." -- FIND ME by Carol O'Connell.
"Here was what Mary still found extraordinary: on the day before Stella died, nothing unusual happened. There were no signs, no premonitions, nothing but the simple daily routine of their life together - she and Dylan and Stella. Her neighbor when she lived in San Francisco, on a high hill in North Beach, had been an old Italian woman named Angelina. Angelina always wore a black shawl over her head, and thick-soled black shoes, and a black dress. "People should know you're in mourning," she told Mary. "When you wear black they understand." -- THE KNITTING CIRCLE by ANN HOOD.
"After the explosion, the driver of the overturned school bus stood beside the wreckage, his clothes in shreds. He was cupping his hands to his ears, as if to spare himself the noise of sirens, car alarms, bullhorns, whistles, and tumbling masonry. When he brought his hands away and held them in front of his face, both palms were dripping blood. His mouth opened wide in a scream that was lost in the surrounding din." -- SURVEILLANCE by JONATHAN RABAN.
"The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window. I'm listening to a mix tape from 1993. Nobody can hear it but me. The neighbors are asleep. The skater kids who sit on my front steps, drink beer, and blast Polish hip hop - they're gone for the night. The diner next door is closed, but the air is still full of borscht and kielbasa. This is where I live now. A different town, a different apartment, a different year." -- LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by Rob Sheffield. I know I already plugged this but so what.
"It started different ways, but always ended the same. This time he'd been in church. It wasn't the Nativity, but he'd known that he was in the old neighborhood. A deep voice intoned alien words. Stained glass spilled bloody light across polished pews. Karen held a hymnal, terror squirming in her eyes. He'd tried to read the book, knowing the key to her fear lay on the page, but the words twisted and blurred. Sliding metal rattled behind him. In the half awareness of an ending dream, he knew he wouldn't make it, that he couldn't impose sense onto this world in time. He looked up to find that Karen had turned into Evan, and that the hymnal had become a pistol aimed at Danny's chest." -- THE BLADE ITSELF by MARCUS SAKEY.
Now, back to the OSCARS or, at least, Oscar Fashion. I love this part of it but today I watched E'S horrendous Fashion Police show. I wanted to see all the dresses so I tried to suffer through all the inane chatter but damn are they asking a lot. I mean, these folks were clowns and not the good time. The two Jays from America's Top Model brought their tacky horror show to another channel. Why am I supposed to believe anything they say about fashion when I'm looking right at them. One has on way too much make-up (for a man or a woman). What's up with all that heavy foundation? He has an unintentional Little Richard thing going and the second one, Miss Jay, has this weird nappy-ass hair that's also shellacked. Bizarre. I'd love to hear what real fashion people have to say but this was too much.
On more positive notes, I caught up on ROME. Excellent. And I am so impressed with CRAIG FERGUSEN'S GORGEOUS SPEECH. Nice. Watch the whole thing.
Until next time. . .
Okay, ya'll know by now that I am an all-day grape-flavored sucker for the OSCARS so last night was one of my favorite nights of the year. I'll admit it was a little long (okay, too long) but I enjoyed the show. I'm not hard to please. When I was little I'd panic if I wasn't sufficiently "dressed up" to watch the show. High maintenance kid but my mom was understanding and indulgent. So, every year, there I was perched on a pillow in front of the TV, wearing a party dress and slippers. This year, it was a little more sophisticated. The Crown Prince and I went to a party thrown by one of his friends. Great time. Good food. Nice people-- I think.
I stayed in the living room with the serious watchers. The "talk over the speeches" people were in the backyard. Never made it out there. Heard there were at least fifty people but C.P. brought food to me in front and I wasn't giving up my seat. Happy girl. He's always the social butterfly and I get the folks who come up and say, "Oh, you must be Chelle. C.P. said I could find you here." The caterers cooked up homemade donuts (on the premises) for a treat and C.P. snagged me some and Oscar-shaped cookies. What more can you ask for?
On Friday, in preparation for the awards, I watched BABEL, (I know people hated this movie but I didn't - AT ALL. Really loved it.) NOTES ON A SCANDAL (superb acting), WORLD TRADE CENTER (emotional) and UNITED 93. Still have to see LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, HALF NELSON, LITTLE CHILDREN and PAN'S LABYRINTH. I was glad to see Forest Whitaker win but felt a little sad for Peter O'Toole. Jennifer Hudson's speech was nice but what in the world was up with MICHAEL ARNDT'S sell-out speech about "directors being the real authors." Not loving that sentiment. Unless a director is specifically a writer/director they ARE NOT the ones battling a blank page.
I understand where Arndt was going with his entire speech (it was emotional and genuine) but I worked at the Director's Guild when I first moved to L.A (taking minutes at their board meeting) and, let me tell you, there is NO LOVE LOST between directors and writers. The contempt they held for writers was mind blowing to a novice like me, but after years in this town the disrespect seems to be a permanent part of the landscape. I fight it every step of the way and demand respect. You're not giving to me, fine, I'll take it from you. And, believe me, directors rarely want to give it. Read a couple interviews and you'll see what I mean. But, just to be fair and give Arndt the benefit of the doubt, I'll allow that maybe, the directors on this particular film were instrumental in the writing of the script. Could be true but, still, an unfortunate choice of words. Nice speech overall, loved the movie, yet I hated that small sentence in an otherwise lovely moment. Moving on to . . . BOOKS.
"It was another hot night, dry and windless. The kind that makes people do sweaty, secret things. I wait and I listen."-- A DAME TO KILL FOR: FRANK MILLER'S SIN CITY by FRANK MILLER.
"The haunt of Grand Central Station was a small girl with matted hair and dirty clothes. She appeared only in the commuter hours, morning and evening, when the child believed that she could go invisibly among the throng of travelers in crisscrossing foot traffic, as if that incredible face could go anywhere without atrracting stares. Conccessionaires reached for their phones to call the number on a policeman's card and say, "She's back." -- FIND ME by Carol O'Connell.
"Here was what Mary still found extraordinary: on the day before Stella died, nothing unusual happened. There were no signs, no premonitions, nothing but the simple daily routine of their life together - she and Dylan and Stella. Her neighbor when she lived in San Francisco, on a high hill in North Beach, had been an old Italian woman named Angelina. Angelina always wore a black shawl over her head, and thick-soled black shoes, and a black dress. "People should know you're in mourning," she told Mary. "When you wear black they understand." -- THE KNITTING CIRCLE by ANN HOOD.
"After the explosion, the driver of the overturned school bus stood beside the wreckage, his clothes in shreds. He was cupping his hands to his ears, as if to spare himself the noise of sirens, car alarms, bullhorns, whistles, and tumbling masonry. When he brought his hands away and held them in front of his face, both palms were dripping blood. His mouth opened wide in a scream that was lost in the surrounding din." -- SURVEILLANCE by JONATHAN RABAN.
"The playback: late night, Brooklyn, a pot of coffee, and a chair by the window. I'm listening to a mix tape from 1993. Nobody can hear it but me. The neighbors are asleep. The skater kids who sit on my front steps, drink beer, and blast Polish hip hop - they're gone for the night. The diner next door is closed, but the air is still full of borscht and kielbasa. This is where I live now. A different town, a different apartment, a different year." -- LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by Rob Sheffield. I know I already plugged this but so what.
"It started different ways, but always ended the same. This time he'd been in church. It wasn't the Nativity, but he'd known that he was in the old neighborhood. A deep voice intoned alien words. Stained glass spilled bloody light across polished pews. Karen held a hymnal, terror squirming in her eyes. He'd tried to read the book, knowing the key to her fear lay on the page, but the words twisted and blurred. Sliding metal rattled behind him. In the half awareness of an ending dream, he knew he wouldn't make it, that he couldn't impose sense onto this world in time. He looked up to find that Karen had turned into Evan, and that the hymnal had become a pistol aimed at Danny's chest." -- THE BLADE ITSELF by MARCUS SAKEY.
Now, back to the OSCARS or, at least, Oscar Fashion. I love this part of it but today I watched E'S horrendous Fashion Police show. I wanted to see all the dresses so I tried to suffer through all the inane chatter but damn are they asking a lot. I mean, these folks were clowns and not the good time. The two Jays from America's Top Model brought their tacky horror show to another channel. Why am I supposed to believe anything they say about fashion when I'm looking right at them. One has on way too much make-up (for a man or a woman). What's up with all that heavy foundation? He has an unintentional Little Richard thing going and the second one, Miss Jay, has this weird nappy-ass hair that's also shellacked. Bizarre. I'd love to hear what real fashion people have to say but this was too much.
On more positive notes, I caught up on ROME. Excellent. And I am so impressed with CRAIG FERGUSEN'S GORGEOUS SPEECH. Nice. Watch the whole thing.
Until next time. . .
Labels: Books, Clowns-The Bad Kind, Fashion, Movies, Oscars
2.19.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
Sadly, birthday week has come to an end. It ended at 4 in the morning, in San Francisco, with these big smiles, lots of breasts (mostly mine) which you can see from the picture. Those are two of the five women I've often referred to as My Best Friends In The World. No small thing, that.
We had a really good time but, somehow, we always resort to being fourteen. Don't believe me? Well, we're small town girls which meant a good portion of our teen years were spent "cruising parking lots" where the kids from both high schools congregated. We didn't cruise on Saturday but we did end up in a parking lot at 3.am. giggling until we had belly aches and talking about cute boys. Where have all the cute boys gone? That was the question of the night.
ELIZABETH GILBERT was supposed to join us but when I called to inform her that we were leaving at 11 p.m. she broke into hysterical laughter and shouted, "When have you ever seen me at night?" It's true. While we were at Ucross, Elizabeth was in bed every night by 9 o'clock. I called her hotel to tell her our plans then I said, "Listen, these are bona fide city girls so we probably won't leave until after 10." That tickled her funny bone and we made plans to get together on the next go round.
Anyway, I missed Elizabeth at the Italian Cultural Center in L.A. (where she was expecting me) so I got a great response (surprise) when I showed up at her San Francisco reading on Friday night. The Crown Prince and I left Friday morning and I made it just in time to get dressed and jam over the bridge with my friend, D. Great night. Elizabeth is a great storyteller and the BOOKSTORE was packed to overflowing. Folks on the sidewalk. Cool night. I bought a signed copy for the Queen Mother, C.P.'s mom and I found BREAD AND JAM FOR FRANCIS which I loved as a kid. Loved!
The sight of that sweet little cover used to make me so happy. I haven't seen or thought about it in years so it was a nice treat. Saturday, I did some editing on a manuscript I received last week, read a little, then went to lunch with my friend, L. Just a nice weekend. But, like I said, I got home at 4.am. and C.P. decided, of course, to call at 9 a.m. to tell me to be ready to "hit the road". Wanted to kill him but I didn't have the energy. I was comatose on the ride back to L.A. So much so that this is an actual conversation.
C.P.: Did you see those crows? They're hella fucking with that bird.
Me: Silence.
C.P.: Look at them, Chelle. Look.
Me: Louder silence.
C.P.: That is fucked up.
Me: Maybe there's a nest around.
C.P.: No, they're just aggressive. (shakes head) I just don't understand it.
Me: It's not for you to understand.
C.P.: But they're hunting him down to kill him.
Me: That bird probably did something stupid.
C.P.: No, he didn't.
Me: Yes! He did.
Silence.
C.P.: Crows are gotdamn assholes.
Now, if that last line is not a T-shirt logo, I just don't know what is.
Anyway, after this birthday and until I turn sixty, sixty-one, ma'am is officially a dirty word to me. An insult. Completely and utterly without sexuality (unless, unless, it's delivered by a shirtless cowboy that you've invited over and is now standing in the doorway to your bedroom tilting his ten-gallon to you. Wait, did I got off on a tangent?) so I don't want to hear it. Not having it, just in case you meet me out on the road.
Lastly, is it just me or have those tacky wenches on REAL HOUSEWIVES gone monkey-wild this season. Every year I pick one tacky-ass show that I have no business watching. Just one. One. And this is it. They make me ashamed of myself. But, here's the fun, they have no idea that they're tacky, low-budget and gross. The ignorance is profound. One housewife asked a visitor from Canada if she spoke Canadian. Priceless. And each week another one reveals racist tendencies that they then try and explain away on their blogs. A train wreck with runway flares.
The DIGABLE POET has produced a series for youtube called THE LAST DAYS OF BOBBY BLUE. Check it out. ABC's planning a GREY'S ANATOMY SPIN-OFF. And the AMERICAN IDOL girls just shred all over the boys. TIVO is perfect for watching this show because they have so much filler. I got a 2-hour show down to 30 minutes by fast forwarding through the backstory, recaps and chitter chatter. I listened to the song and pieces of the judge's comments. In and out. Best way to watch a bloated show.
Until next time. . .
Sadly, birthday week has come to an end. It ended at 4 in the morning, in San Francisco, with these big smiles, lots of breasts (mostly mine) which you can see from the picture. Those are two of the five women I've often referred to as My Best Friends In The World. No small thing, that.
We had a really good time but, somehow, we always resort to being fourteen. Don't believe me? Well, we're small town girls which meant a good portion of our teen years were spent "cruising parking lots" where the kids from both high schools congregated. We didn't cruise on Saturday but we did end up in a parking lot at 3.am. giggling until we had belly aches and talking about cute boys. Where have all the cute boys gone? That was the question of the night.
ELIZABETH GILBERT was supposed to join us but when I called to inform her that we were leaving at 11 p.m. she broke into hysterical laughter and shouted, "When have you ever seen me at night?" It's true. While we were at Ucross, Elizabeth was in bed every night by 9 o'clock. I called her hotel to tell her our plans then I said, "Listen, these are bona fide city girls so we probably won't leave until after 10." That tickled her funny bone and we made plans to get together on the next go round.
Anyway, I missed Elizabeth at the Italian Cultural Center in L.A. (where she was expecting me) so I got a great response (surprise) when I showed up at her San Francisco reading on Friday night. The Crown Prince and I left Friday morning and I made it just in time to get dressed and jam over the bridge with my friend, D. Great night. Elizabeth is a great storyteller and the BOOKSTORE was packed to overflowing. Folks on the sidewalk. Cool night. I bought a signed copy for the Queen Mother, C.P.'s mom and I found BREAD AND JAM FOR FRANCIS which I loved as a kid. Loved!
The sight of that sweet little cover used to make me so happy. I haven't seen or thought about it in years so it was a nice treat. Saturday, I did some editing on a manuscript I received last week, read a little, then went to lunch with my friend, L. Just a nice weekend. But, like I said, I got home at 4.am. and C.P. decided, of course, to call at 9 a.m. to tell me to be ready to "hit the road". Wanted to kill him but I didn't have the energy. I was comatose on the ride back to L.A. So much so that this is an actual conversation.
C.P.: Did you see those crows? They're hella fucking with that bird.
Me: Silence.
C.P.: Look at them, Chelle. Look.
Me: Louder silence.
C.P.: That is fucked up.
Me: Maybe there's a nest around.
C.P.: No, they're just aggressive. (shakes head) I just don't understand it.
Me: It's not for you to understand.
C.P.: But they're hunting him down to kill him.
Me: That bird probably did something stupid.
C.P.: No, he didn't.
Me: Yes! He did.
Silence.
C.P.: Crows are gotdamn assholes.
Now, if that last line is not a T-shirt logo, I just don't know what is.
Anyway, after this birthday and until I turn sixty, sixty-one, ma'am is officially a dirty word to me. An insult. Completely and utterly without sexuality (unless, unless, it's delivered by a shirtless cowboy that you've invited over and is now standing in the doorway to your bedroom tilting his ten-gallon to you. Wait, did I got off on a tangent?) so I don't want to hear it. Not having it, just in case you meet me out on the road.
Lastly, is it just me or have those tacky wenches on REAL HOUSEWIVES gone monkey-wild this season. Every year I pick one tacky-ass show that I have no business watching. Just one. One. And this is it. They make me ashamed of myself. But, here's the fun, they have no idea that they're tacky, low-budget and gross. The ignorance is profound. One housewife asked a visitor from Canada if she spoke Canadian. Priceless. And each week another one reveals racist tendencies that they then try and explain away on their blogs. A train wreck with runway flares.
The DIGABLE POET has produced a series for youtube called THE LAST DAYS OF BOBBY BLUE. Check it out. ABC's planning a GREY'S ANATOMY SPIN-OFF. And the AMERICAN IDOL girls just shred all over the boys. TIVO is perfect for watching this show because they have so much filler. I got a 2-hour show down to 30 minutes by fast forwarding through the backstory, recaps and chitter chatter. I listened to the song and pieces of the judge's comments. In and out. Best way to watch a bloated show.
Until next time. . .
Labels: Birthday, Books, Girlfriends, Small Town Girls, TV
2.08.2007
TRAMBLINGS. . .
JENNIFER LYNN BARNES is on tour promoting her new novel, TATTOO. You can read an excerpt HERE and follow her promotional adventures on her BLOG.
GQ magazine ran an excerpt of LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by ROB SHEFFIELD. Ya'll know I am an all-day sucker when it comes to a sad story, and that I cry at the drop of a hat, but, damn, this one got me. READ for yourself. Great audio clips on the WEBSITE.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS continues to kick some serious dramatic ass. Loved last night's episode. Love Coach Taylor's sly humor and his low-simmering anger, love the positive depiction of marriage between Taylor and Tammy, loved Matt's grandmother in the stands with the JULIE QUARTERBACK sign, loved Matt's awkward friend as the ref, loved Smash taking the keys at the church. Love the coach telling his daughter, "Don't let us lose our trust." Meaning every word of it then losing his cool when he realized she was quarterback. Priceless. Damn, if it's not the best show on TV. Right up there with ROME and THE WIRE, two other shows I love. But I am not loving EXTRAS this season. Just too mean-spirited and uncomfortable.
Anyway, more to say but not enough time. How ya'll doing? Drop me a line and catch me up on your lives. I don't want to just talk about myself. Well, I do, but I should at least pretend otherwise.
Until next time. . .
JENNIFER LYNN BARNES is on tour promoting her new novel, TATTOO. You can read an excerpt HERE and follow her promotional adventures on her BLOG.
GQ magazine ran an excerpt of LOVE IS A MIX TAPE: LIFE AND LOSS, ONE SONG AT A TIME by ROB SHEFFIELD. Ya'll know I am an all-day sucker when it comes to a sad story, and that I cry at the drop of a hat, but, damn, this one got me. READ for yourself. Great audio clips on the WEBSITE.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS continues to kick some serious dramatic ass. Loved last night's episode. Love Coach Taylor's sly humor and his low-simmering anger, love the positive depiction of marriage between Taylor and Tammy, loved Matt's grandmother in the stands with the JULIE QUARTERBACK sign, loved Matt's awkward friend as the ref, loved Smash taking the keys at the church. Love the coach telling his daughter, "Don't let us lose our trust." Meaning every word of it then losing his cool when he realized she was quarterback. Priceless. Damn, if it's not the best show on TV. Right up there with ROME and THE WIRE, two other shows I love. But I am not loving EXTRAS this season. Just too mean-spirited and uncomfortable.
Anyway, more to say but not enough time. How ya'll doing? Drop me a line and catch me up on your lives. I don't want to just talk about myself. Well, I do, but I should at least pretend otherwise.
Until next time. . .
Labels: Books, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, GCC
