Scribble Interludes

Back, Finally

2009-06-24T19:20:00.001-07:00

It's been so long since I've written here that I had to reintroduce myself to my blog. I don't know where April, May, and June went. But I will try a short recap.
I moved Spoken Interludes to the fabulous Chutney Masala on the Hudson River. The food is divine, and I never even thought I cared for Indian food, but it's now my favorite place. Audience favorite Arthur Phillips

read, along with Pam Lewis, and Greg Ames. David Denby talked about his new book, Snark. All wonderful fun.
Then I went to Newburyport for the book festival there, and got to see and catch up with Elinor Lipman, who I adore, and David Ebershoff, who I did a book festival with earlier this year. And I got to see my dear Dubus cousins, which was just wonderful. I missed André's talk, but Dan got to hear him. The boys and I were on a great playground outside during it, but got visit time after. And then to the beach with Peggy. It was a gorgeous day, like summer, and I had no idea it was so close, so that was heaven.

Signing at Newburyport.

Then in mid-May, I went back to the Vo-tech school in lower New Jersey to do my one day outreach writing program workshop I do there twice a year. The kids there are darling and sweet and motivated, and I loved being with them. Here are some of the seniors.

Then we did one more Spoken Interludes because the April show was so fun at Chutney, and I don't have to drive far - my LA years are showing!
Lee Woodruff read and Ben Cheever who is so charming and funny, and I love hearing him read, and Doug Rushkoff, and Joanna Hershon, who I'd be trying to get there forever, so that was a wonderful way to end the season.

Then I did a book festival in Paramus, their first one. The day threatened rain, but it held out, miraculously, since that is all we've had lately. It feels like home.
Anyway, this has been just a hello, I'm still around, blog, but now that I'm back, I'll be here again more soon.
xo

Spoken Interludes Next

2009-04-04T14:30:00.000-07:00

I'm in bed getting better from having a tummy bug :( watching the wind move the pine trees in the back yard, and waiting for soup that Dan is bringing home, the hero. Wednesday was a wonderful, albeit nonstop day. It started with the graduation reading of the students of Spoken Interludes Next, our outreach writing program that is at Mt Pleasant Blythedale UFSD, at Blythedale Children's Hospital, the only New York State public school located within a hospital. What an amazing hour that was. I am including a letter that I received from Ellen Bergman, the superintendent of the school about the morning.

Dear DeLauné,
Your description of the Spoken Interludes Next writing project at the Special Act Coalition superintendent's meeting last year sparked my interest. The opportunity to have published authors teaching my students was very exciting. However, I had no inkling of the profound impact the program would have on the very special seventh and eighth grade students at Mt. Pleasant Blythedale School.

Today we celebrated the achievements of the Spoken Interludes’ writing students and their teachers, Marek Fuchs and Susan Ades Stone. I’m sure you recognized the pride expressed in the voices and on the faces of the students. As patients at Blythedale Children’s Hospital, these adolescents have little control over their physical conditions. They have few opportunities to celebrate their individual creativity, and bask in the admiration of their peers.
• S. who has Cerebral Palsy is reluctant to speak in public. Yet with great pride he read his narrative describing his feelings about attending a recent concert featuring his favorite musicians.
• L. who has Osteogenesis Imperfecta has strong feeling of nostalgia for her native country, the Dominican Republic. Spoken interludes allowed her to give voice to those feelings and to share them with her peers.
• D. has Hemophilia and resisted coming to school, preferring to stay in his hospital bed playing video games. Reluctantly, he attended one Spoken Interludes class and then another and now school attendance is no longer an issue.
• J. has Guillan Barre and fatigues easily. He was angry about his illness and the resulting lengthy hospital stay. Spoken Interludes gave him the opportunity to imagine a world of strength and adventure, and regain some hope for his own future.

Thank you for giving all of the students at MPB experiences they will treasure long after their bodies heal. Your teachers have nourished their souls and taught them life affirming skills.
I hope that you will consider the students at Mt. Pleasant Blythedale UFSD as you plan for future Spoken Interludes programs.
Sincerely,
Ellen Bergman
Superintendent of Schools
EB/aa

It was truly amazing to see these children read their stories. I was hoping to take the program to them twice a year, but after being with them, I want them to have it at least three times a year to reach as many as those children as we can. I told Ellen that we'd be there this summer, and then thought, "With what money?!" But where there is a will, there is a way; I have never doubted that. And yesterday, I got a surprise donation for 500. and that will cover a third of the cost of the program there, so I feel sure we will be able to be there after all. What courage those children have. One more time, I felt like I was getting the gift by being with them. And the writers who taught the program, Marek and Susan, were amazing. I feel blessed that they are part of this program.
Then I drove to Norwalk Community College to be part of a panel on Youth Activism. One of the other panelists, David Burstein, was so inspiring. He started a nonprofit last year called 18 in 08 and registered over 25,000 voters between the ages of 18 and 25 before the elections. Don't miss his website. He's only 22 and is doing great things. I could have listened to him for hours.
Then I went to Abbott House back here in Westchester to sit in on a Spoken Interludes Next class that we are doing there, and to meet with Colleen Michelle Jones from the Rivertowns Enterprise, who is doing an article about the program. Colleen is a doll, and a lovely writer, and her support of the program means so much to me. The class I sat in on was on Setting - the program is an 8 week program that takes the students through the process of writing a short story and each class focuses on a different element of the story. I listened while Marek - who is also teaching that group - did a wonderful job of working with the boys, but had to bite my tongue not to jump in. I wanted to work with them so badly. I miss teaching in the program so much, and am thrilled that is starting without me, but look forward to being able to when both of my sons are in school, but at least I can be connected this way. I did have a chance to work with them a bit, and felt such a connection with them. One of the boys is a natural writer, his work was so gorgeous and engrossing, and another wants to be a therapist. I gave them all hugs at the end, and can't wait to hear them read at their graduation. I should have pictures soon, and will put them up here. I love working with those kids, and am so glad I am able to vicariously until I really can.
xo

Monday, Monday

2009-03-30T10:11:00.000-07:00

It's a wonderful blustery Monday, and there is some blue sky peeking through the clouds, and I think the winter weather might finally be ending. Please God. Frankly, I'd like to drive a stake through the heart of this past winter. It was ferocious and lasted forever. For this entire past month, my two sons and I have had some form of cold or virus or cough, and it was hard not to feel that it was the winter's way of saying, "I may have to end, but I won't let you forget who's boss." Okay, Uncle! You win. Now, please go away!! Sorry for the rant. You can tell that I am out of denial about my feelings about the cold. Anyway. I did have another Spoken Interludes last Thursday night - didn't take pictures :( - and I loved every writer who was there. So many people said to me, as they were leaving, that it was the best show they'd been to. The shows are like my children, I don't have a favorite, but I can say that it was like one of those glorious afternoons when the boys and I are having a great time playing, and everything is perfect and pure fun. That's how the evening was. Marek Fuchs, Joshua Henkin, David Ebershoff, and John Burnham Schwartz all read. And can we just take a moment to acknowledge that group?? We all could have listened to each of them the entire evening. It was an embarrassment of riches in terms of their talent, and generosity of spirit, and showmanship. I feel so blessed that I get to show up and be with the audience members that I adore, and either meet, or see again, writers that I love and respect, and hear their work and their thoughts on their work. When I was doing the shows in LA every month, one thing that made me really happy was that it was one of the few places in that town that when someone was introduced to someone there, they didn't ask what they did for a living, they asked how they found out about Spoken Interludes. It was a like an underground literary club, and I loved that, everyone coming together on the basis of loving the written word and the desire to hear stories. I felt that so strongly the other night. If you haven't read the newest books by Marek, Joshua, David, or John, run don't walk to your nearest bookstore. They are all divine. And at the show, a very interesting theme emerged from the readings, as one always seems to, of people being trapped or encapsulated in a community or institution, and it was great getting to hear the different ways that was developed.
I did a panel at the Irvington Library yesterday for the Rivertowns Arts Council. It was on Creativity and Motherhood led by Carrie Barron, and it was wonderful to hear the other artist talk about juggling these things, and connect with the audience on it. My sister-in-law, Judy Siegel, came which meant so much to me. Her husband, Jon, just became mayor of Irvington, a more fair man I have never met, so we will all be in very capable hands once he gets sworn in next week. And speaking of creativity, off to work on my novel. Happy Monday!
xo

New York State of Mind

2009-03-24T19:00:00.001-07:00

So, I'm in Utica to speak at Utica College tomorrow as part of their visiting writers series, and figured I'd write before I fall asleep. I'm away from the boys again, though just for the night, and only a 3 and a half hour drive away, but still. Some very fun people from the college - pictures will be up when I get home and have my camera cable to download - took me out to a very yummy dinner, and when I got back to the hotel, I called to say goodnight, and I told my oldest son that I missed him. He said, I don't miss you. I said, that's okay. Then he said, I just want to hug you. I told him that I always want to hug him. The two year old got on the phone, and told me of a big accomplishment he had, then put down the phone to dance in celebration of it. Very sweet. I miss them. And want to hug them
This past Friday night, I drove to Central Valley, NY, about 40 minutes away from me, not too far over the Tappan Zee bridge, to have dinner with The BookWalkers, a book club that had read both of my books. I loved these women.
They were so warm and open and fun. I felt like I had known them forever. We all talked nonstop. A bunch of them even live on the same street, and I could feel how connected they are to each other. They have created an amazing community for themselves with this group, and they also raise money for charities and do walks and runs. They all brought books to donate to the Pediatrics Clinic in Yonkers that I am doing the bookdrive for - they are goddesses. I got there about 7:30 and didn't leave until after 11 and couldn't believe it was that late. It was one of those great evenings where I felt so lucky and happy to be a woman who gets to be able to walk into a room of women that I don't know, but within the space of half an hour, am able to share and connect and get so much from them. They gave me the best gift. They let me be part of their magic circle. I drove home feeling so bouyed up by it. And now I'm up here inUtica - two hours north on the 87 to Albany, then west on the 90 for an hour and half. It is such a beautiful drive; it is all farms, and Victorian houses, and light straight out of an Edward Hopper - getting to be with people here, and hear their stories, and be part of this. And I got to have all that wonderful driving/writing time. Virginia Woolf used to walk her novels; I love to drive them. So it was great having 3 plus hours of silent, novel-thinking/processing/flow time. And I get more tomorrow on the drive home. Heaven!
xo

My sister Elizabeth showed me how to use my camera!!!

2009-03-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

So, my wonderful sister, Elizabeth, showed me how to download the pictures off my new camera, and find them on my computer, so I can put them up here. Hooray!! Here are a few that I've wanted to put up:

This was at BookMania in Stuart, Florida before our panel. From Left to right is: Lily Koppel, Diane McKinney-Whetstone, me, Garth Stein and Diane Hammond. They were great fun.

If you have a layover in the Atlanta airport - eat here!! I love Paschal's. They have amazing grits and biscuits, and my flight got me there just in time to have some before they stopped serving them at 11. Yum!

Here's the building at SUNY Albany where I spoke in February as part of the Sexuality Week on Campus. Afterwards, I had dinner with Dan's first cousin, and that was nice having a chance to have a real visit that wasn't in the midst of a large family gathering.

This is the King's Cake that the boys and I made a couple of Saturday's ago on that beautiful, spring-like day we had when it was in the 60's. We were playing in the sandbox, and went in for lunch, and somehow the idea of making a cake came up, and even though King's day and Mardi Gras were past, King's cake is always yummy, and it was great fun making our own. The boys especially loved watching it rise twice, and then painting it with the colored sugar once it was baked. My 5 year old took that picture.

I ran into Michael Gates Gill at the Tucson Festival of Books last Sunday. Mike read at Spoken Interludes last fall, and I really adore him. It was great getting to see him again. And here I am with Bonnie Marson, my fellow panelist. She was good fun.
And last, but definitely not least, here with my sister Pamela, in front of the cacti. She was such a dear to fly in from Albuquerque to meet me there. Made all the difference in the world to me.

An Airport Kind of Day

2009-03-16T08:09:00.000-07:00

I'm in the Tucson airport waiting for a plane. I got here at 6 am, hoping to fly stand-by. Rather, fulling believing that I would fly stand-by because when I spoke to my travel agent on Friday, she said there were six seats left on the plane, so surely (don't call me Shirley - sorry!) I'd be fine. I wasn't fine. It's spring break, so the 7:10 am plane was over sold. As was the 8:20, and the 9:30, and the 10:40, and that leaves me going out on the flight that was originally booked, 11 something, I'll check my boarding pass, God knows, I have time. I won't get back to NY until 8:30 tonight which is the unpleasant part because I was really hoping/wanting/needing to get back to my sons this afternoon. They have done fine. They held up well. Dan said they fell asleep in the van on the way home from the zoo (they went out to breakfast and then to the zoo to see the camels and sea lions and zebras - their faves!), and when they woke up, they were both crying and wanting me. :( Okay, so I'm a lightweight. 3 days and 2 nights is too long for me without my sons, and my husband, but mostly my sons. We talked on the phone and Dan emailed me pictures of them. If I could have figured out where the damn pictures were on my computer that I downloaded from the new camera that Dan got me when my old camera (that I was able to work) broke, then I would have been able to email pictures to them, and even post some here, but I will figure it out, though it's been tres annoying. Almost as annoying as people throwing in a lame French word in a thoroughly lame way. Anyway, I miss my sons. I am keeping my older son home from preschool tomorrow, and we will go to the Maritime Aquarium in Norwalk to see the penguins that they just got there, so that will be great fun. My older son called me on my cell phone this morning when I was in the cab on the way to the airport. It was 5:30 am Tucson time, so 8:30 Irvington time. He told me that his father was telling him what to do too much. I asked him if that had anything to do with going to school. He said it did. I told him that I understood not wanting to go, but it would make the time go faster until I got home. He said maybe for you, but not for me. I reminded him that he didn't go to school on Friday. He said that was then, this is today. Can we just apply to law school now??? I told him that Momma and Daddy's job is to work and his job is to go to school, then quickly changed the subject and asked what he had for breakfast, knowing full well that he hadn't eaten yet. I could hear the low-blood sugar in his voice. He said that Dan had made oatmeal. Okay, is he a hero or what?? Cooking, for God's sake. Though Dan could have made ice cream floats (remember Coke Floats when you were a kid?? My sisters and I LOVED those), and my son wouldn't have been happy. I suggested he ask Daddy to make him a waffle (a frozen one from Whole Foods that my older sister, Elizabeth saved the day by picking up for us when she went there last week), and that did the trick. Hooray! But I wish I were already home. Though I did have a great weekend. The festival was wonderful. It was the first one they ever had, but you wouldn't have known it. Every detail was thought out and perfect; the crowds were huge; the weather stunning. It was a glorious weekend. Not least of which was seeing Garth Stein again. We did a panel together at a festival in Florida in January, so it was great fun to see him again yesterday. He came to my panel and I went to his. If he is in your area, don't miss him!!! I assume you've already read his The Art of Racing in the Rain, which is incredible; be prepared to laugh and cry. I also ran into Michael Gates Gill in the author's lounge at the festival. Mike is amazing. Get his book, How Starbucks Saved My Life. It is a beautiful story of transformation and redemption, two subjects close to my heart. And Mike is a joy, so it was a treat to see him again. My panel was with Bonnie Marson whose book, Sleeping with Shubert is a wonderful read. I really enjoyed doing the panel with her. Our topic was writing without fear or an MFA, and the audience had so many questions that the moderator, Laura Fitzgerald, barely had to speak, but she was lovely. It was interesting to hear Bonnie's process. We had some interesting overlap, but a lot of differences in how we work that I think it gave a nice full view. But the nicest part of the weekend was that my sister Pamela who lives in Albuquerque flew in and was with me from Saturday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. I don't think we've had alone time together since I visited her in Albuquerque ages and ages ago. It was really heavenly. I felt like we were able to reconnect in our relationship from who we are now. There was finally the time and space to do that. I feel so blessed to have her, and my other sisters. All that shared history and shorthands. We had so many laughs - Pam is hysterical - and got to realize some similarities in our lives that we hadn't before, and isn't that a gift? So, other than missing the boys so much that it made me ache, it was a glorious, heavenly weekend - and with sun!! I feel very fortunate to have been able to go. Thank you, wonderful, supportive husband!! Earlier this morning, I was at a kiosk getting a cup of coffee, and telling Dan on my cell phone that it didn't look like I'd get back earlier, and he was so relaxed about it, and so happy that I had come here, and I said to him, "I have the best husband." And the woman next to me said, "No, I do." Love her!!!
xo

77

2009-03-13T13:03:00.002-07:00

I am flying to Tucson tomorrow to be part of the first annual Tucson Festival of Books. I am thrilled to be going, not least because the weather is going to be 77 there on Sunday. 77! Spring is definitely trying to start arrive here, but it's not 77. Though last weekend, it was wonderfully warm here, and the boys and I were able to be home all day. That is my favorite day in the world: all of home with no place we have to be at a certain time, and just able to play and eat and laugh and hang out and be home. So, the 2 year old and I were in the kitchen getting water, and my 5 year old was digging in the dirt at his construction site next to the driveway, when he came running in and said, "Momma, some thing's happened; come see." I figured a truck had broken from the ice, or some mishap, but then he said, "Come, some thing wonderful happened." And he led us outside, and there in the bed under the front window was the first flower of spring. That made my heart sing. To see it, and that he had found it, and showed it to me in that way. So, this long, cold winter is of the past, but it is still trying to hang on. I, for one, will not be sad to see it go. I kept my 5 year old home from pre-school this morning, since I'll be gone this weekend, so we played Tigers and Zoo keeper this morning, always a favorite.
My sister who lives in Albuquerque is going to meet me in Tucson and spend Saturday night with me. I'm looking forward to a sisters weekend. I told her that I feel like such a grown-up getting to have a girls' weekend, and she said that she feels like a kid going to a slumber party, so there's perspective for you! I'm going to miss the boys, especially, and I know this sounds crazy, at the airports - I'm changing planes in Dallas - because, one) airports are my sons favorite places in the world, and two) flying brings up terrible existential angst for me. I don't have a fear of dying on a plane, rather it is that going to an airport makes me think of what it must be life to leave this life and be in that transition before the next thing, and being a (trying, at least) practicing Buddhist, I think it is another life. I probably never should have watched that Albert Brooks movie, "Defending Your Life" since it is all about that in-between time and its setting looks suspiciously like an airport. But anyway. I have no doubt the festival will be great fun, and my sons and husband won't eat any of the food I am making and leaving for them, and will subsist on pizza and I'll be thrilled to see them upon arriving home. I'm feeling nervous/sad about being gone from them. At dinner tonight, my two year old said, “Momma bye bye tomorrow plane." Then he crawled into my lap. "Me hum. (for 'me come') Me hum.” Totally broke my heart. :(
xo

The Sky is Crying

2009-03-10T19:14:00.001-07:00

Tuesday night. We just came home from paying a Shiva call to our Rabbi whose 19 year old son died in a tragic accident this past Friday night. We went to the funeral yesterday morning. It rained during the funeral, and it is raining now. The sanctuary was filled when we arrived, so we sat in the huge, crowded tent they had erected outside and watch the tv monitors of the funeral. The eulogy was the most beautiful and eloquent I've ever heard. I don't know how Rabbi Billy and his wife and two children were able to sit there and not just break down wailing on the floor. God bless them. It is horrendously, unbearably sad. When the service was over, and they got up to leave with the coffin, I remembered burying my father, and how I felt that I was trapped inside a machine that was made up of the most benevolent and loving people, but people who were setting into motion the burying of my father, and how I wanted to stand up and yell and stop it somehow, and how I couldn't, and how I was forced to do the absolutely completely very last thing on earth I had ever wanted to do. And yesterday, I saw Rabbi Billy get up from his chair at the end of the service, and I knew he was at that point where the rituals are moving forward, and you have no choice but to move forward with them, but all you want to do is yell and scream that this can't be happening, this can't be happening. And mine was my father, a death I had assumed would happen before my own. Not my son. Not a child. No one should have to walk through this. He was so kind to us when we got married. We had a hard time finding a Rabbi to perform the ceremony since I haven't converted to Judaism, but Rabbi Dreskin was so loving and embracing, and has made Dan and I and our children feel so welcome and part of the community. For him, it is all about the spirit, and I love that. I am so deeply despondent about what has happened to his son. If you have any extra prayers, please use them for Rabbi Dreskin and his family.
xo

2009-03-02T18:26:00.000-08:00

Monday night. Dan and I just finished the crossword puzzle. Monday's always goes fast; a nice consolation for the hell of Friday and Sunday. My youngest called me in twice for more milk after I put him to bed. As I was carrying him to the kitchen to get it, his wispy hair was kind of being blown back off his forehead, and he was looking ahead with a smile on his face, and it was as if he were on the brow of a ship, he looked so happily expectant of his near future. We went into the kitchen where Dan was reading the paper, and my son said, "Last time," and grinned, because he knows that's what I say when he has these little requests. We have school tomorrow, he and I do a Mommy and Me class at the preschool that my 5 year goes to, and my youngest is very excited about that. "Scool?" he kept saying, when I told that we have school tomorrow and he needs a good night sleep. We had a snow day today, and that was great fun. We've had a big work site in their bedroom, with all the trucks moving blocks and going through tunnels and car washes and all kinds of things, so that work continued this morning. Then the babysitter came and I got to have some writing time, and then when I finished, we played a spinning game called Nana Blanana, so named because my sons were eating... you guessed it, while they named the game. Lately when my youngest son picks up something to play with, he says, "My favorite" because he has seen the magical powers that phrase concurs on his brother's toys, all sharing rules can possibly cease. This is a totally meandering entry that seems to have no point at all. Sorry!
xo

Let the Games Begin

2009-02-25T19:10:00.000-08:00

It's 10ish Wednesday night. Dan and I are doing the NY Times crossword puzzle (I just got polaris and gator, if you did today's), so I figured I'd finally catch up here, in between figuring out 5 letters for "like a towelette" (moist). We have also become big Ken Ken players which now appears above the crosswords every day. Our friends, Robert Fuhrer and Lisa Shamus, developed the game. We gave out a bunch of the Ken Ken books for the holidays, and if you haven't played it, check it out. Great fun.
So winter break was last week, and the boys and I did lots of fun stuff. We went to the Museum of Art and Design in the city to see the second lives: remixing the ordinary exhibit. Wonderful works. We especially loved the chandelier made out of eye glasses. (Just realized that "gator" was wrong). As my sons and I were getting our tickets, I saw a woman that I recognized from Phil Gushee's Meisner acting class that I took forever ago. It was fun to say hello. Brought back tons of memories of repetition and independent activities - Meisner's two touchstone exercises. There was one guy in the class - very talented - who used to play that song "Higher Love" all the time on his walkman - yes, this is very pre-iPod. We went to see the big Van Gogh retrospective at the Met together that year, and we splurged on the Phillipe de Montebello audio tour of it, passing the headphones back and forth to each other as we walked through the galleries. We were broke. I was waitressing, and I can't remember what he did. I can't even remember his name. We were just friends, acting class friends. But what a great time that was. I remember one morning waking up after working late at the restaurant, and I think I was going to do my voice work (not singing, the acting kind) and then go for a run, and I remember lying in my bed, in the small bedroom that I had in the large pre-war apartment on West End Avenue that I shared with a NY politician's daughter and a producer on 60 Minutes (Richard is still on that show, I saw his credit on a segment recently. He was such a sweet man), and realizing that I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. I didn't have a lot of money, but I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. That was a wonderful moment. And I knew I was lucky. Not that it was easy, though what is? But I still got to be doing, pursuing what I wanted. (Dan just figured out that the correct answer for the "gator" clue is otter). Anyway.
So the museum was great fun, and then we fought the masses at Whole Foods in Columbus Circle for lunch. We went with friends, but it was so crowded that we sat at adjacent tables, and I would have killed for a cup of their good coffee, but wasn't up to the line for it.
The next day, the boys and I went ice skating. Okay, all I can say is that if you read that sentence and it didn't give you pause (considering that I wrote it) then, like the refrain to that terrible song, "You don't know me." Okay, seriously, I am so not the ice skater person. But my eldest son has been wanting to go, so I made plans for a lesson for him, and then a friend suggested we go for our play date, and I thought how perfect that my son can go with friends on the day before his lesson, assuming the whole time that I would just watch from the sidelines, waving with gusto every time they passed, secretly thrilled that I wasn't on the ice. Oh, how that was smashed. Though if it had to be with anyone, then this was the perfect time because our friend is great on the ice, but I still was scared of wiping out at every moment. Though, okay, on Friday, I did get a pass because my 2 year old couldn't go on the ice, so he and I stayed on the side (hooray!) and my eldest went the whole way around the rink with my friend and his daughter. I was so proud of him; he was a total natural. All I could think was it was the Yankee in him coming out. So I figured even more surely that during the lesson I'd be able to just hang on the sides. What was I thinking?? My son is not a go-off-with-a-person-he's-never-met kind of kid, so I put on the rental skates, and dutifully trudged out there to the middle of the rink. I asked Heather, the very sweet teacher, how much of ice skating is psychological. She said 50% which shocked me. I think it has to be more like 75. At least for me. Because the thing is is that I could do it. I did it. We had the lesson - march, march, march, gliiiiiiide. march, march, march, gliiiiiiiiiide. Shoulders back! Chest up! Arms out for balance! "I don't need them out for balance," my 5 year old son said. And actually, he didn't, God bless him. And then after the lesson, he and I went around the rink all by ourselves. Okay, this may sound small to you, but this is huge for me. But here's the thing. I was skating; we did skate, but I realized later that the whole time I was skating, I never really could picture myself skating. And I still kind of can't. Then a few days later I realized that a part of me doesn't want to be able to picture myself skating. That I have some attachment (hello, Zen and the Samsara of attachment) to a definition of myself as not being able to skate. When I called my sole friend here in Westchester who I was friends in Baton Rouge, as I figured she would appreciate this more than anyone, she said, "Well, there's a metaphor for balance." Which I took more in relation to my son than to me since I still can't even picture myself doing what I already did. Though I'd better be able to soon since we have another lesson this Sunday. March, march, march, gliiiiiiiiide. March, march, march, gliiiiiiiiide...............
xo

The Big 1

2009-02-16T18:41:00.000-08:00

So, tomorrow is my one year blog anniversary. My husband just walked into the kitchen where I'm writing this, and his response to this information was, "Mazel tov." He always knows just what to say. ;) If I remember correctly, the traditional gift for the first anniversary is paper, which really is rather odd. Paper what? Maché?? Or maybe note cards for the bride to finally write her thank you notes? Maybe that's what it's for. So you have a polite way of reminding the delinquent Mrs. that she never sent a note. Which actually has happened to me in the not too distant past with a bride that I don't know terribly well, but was invited to the wedding, and even though we couldn't go, I still wanted to help celebrate her big day. At the odd moments when I do remember that we never heard from her about our gift, I wonder if I should ask one of her family members to check because if the gift didn't ever get there, I want the store to send another. Frankly, that is all I really care about in a thank you note. It could even just be a stamped message saying, "Got it - thanks!!" Anyway, I hope she is using the stuff in good health, as my mother-in-law would say.
I had no intention of writing about thank you note etiquette. Though that is a subject that I have probably been traumatized by more than most considering that I grew up having to write thank you notes to my sisters. And I have four of them. It has only been in this past year, and with the excuse of two young sons, that I have declared a personal revolution to this and decided that with a close family member, if I tell them in person or on the phone how much I love/use the gift, then that will just have to do. And the terrible truth is that even as I write that, I am sure that the ceiling of social correctness is going to come crashing down on my head. Oh, to be momentarily not Southern.
Anyway. I did write my thank you notes - happily and sincerely - for three events I did recently. The class I led at Bard College at Simon's Rock in Great Barrington was a wonderful experience. What a bright group of young women. They were very passionate and verbal. The class was "Violence and Gender" and I led a discussion on sexual abuse and recovery based on my second book - not to give the plot away! ;) I also did a similar lecture at SUNY Albany last week as part of their Sexuality Week. They started this event 16 years ago, and were the first college to devote a week to these issues. The students were a great group. And it was co-ed, so that was interesting. I thought the boys were very brave to stay through it. Not that it was anti-male at all, but still, talking about some of that stuff can be tricky. One male student was sitting right next to me, (it was originally set up as a lecture, but I pulled out a chair, and got everyone to sit in a circle with me) and at certain points, his right leg was jumping 20 miles a minute. But he joined in the discussion and was very enthusiastic at the end. It was great to connect with them. And I got to see family on both of these trips. My sons and I stayed with my sister and her son in Great Barrington for the Simon's Rock class, so that became a big trucks-and-planes-and-anything-with-wheels kind of weekend. And then after the SUNY Albany lecture, I got to have dinner with my husband's first cousin before I drove back home, and that was fun to have real visit time. Last week, I also did an interview with Ben Cheever on his cable tv show where he interviews writers. The show is on in Westchester, and when I have more info about it, I will put it on my website, if you care to watch it. If you do, watch it for him, as he is thoroughly charming and funny. He read at Spoken Interludes a year or so ago, (happily, he will come back next fall), and I adored him reading there, so wasn't surprised that this side of him was fun, too.
And his team there was also great. Shane, the station manager, had lived in Russia for a good while, so he and I were able to talk about the Moscow Art Theatre and how often does that happen?? Made me remember my acting student days where MAT was the holy grail, and Strasberg our humble vehicle to get there. Or not - like "The Three Sisters", but isn't that point??
Anyway. I talked with Ben about Chekhov, as I look up to him more than any other writer, and Ben told me how fashionable Chekhov has gotten lately and that was a shock. But I guess now that everyone has finally discovered Richard Yates - hooray for that long overdue event - Chekhov is next. And speaking of Yates, Blake Bailey who wrote a beautiful memoir of Yates, is coming out with one of John Cheever that I am very much looking forward to reading. Ben told me that he feels that Blake very much caught the spirit of his father, and I can't think of a better compliment for a biographer than that. Blake will be on Ben's show soon, too, so try to catch that if you're in the 914 area code.
Time to toddle to bed.
xo

Cold and Colder

2009-02-05T17:16:00.000-08:00

It is 17 degrees out. The only reason that is bearable is that I got to stay home all day, venturing out only once to pick up my oldest son from my sister, Elizabeth, who got him from preschool and took him to lunch at the Eldorado diner (his favorite restaurant) as a treat. He always gets pancakes, and is always very happy when he has alone time with Aunt Lilbit. Our driveway is all but impassable with the snow and ice, so my youngest son and I drove down and got him from her car, and brought him back up. We are up on a hill, surrounded by trees, and the snow is very deep, and looking out the back windows, made me feel like we could be out on a farm somewhere. We played airplane for awhile. I was the only passenger, and was given water before I asked for it which I think would be a nice thing for real airlines to emulate, but I'm not holding my breath, and I was assured there would be tasty treats, but none were forthcoming. The steward kept checking my seat belt and giggling hysterically, and the pilot kept announcing that we were about to take off on a "derecks" flight to Looziana - his favorite place to fly to. I asked the pilot if he would like some popcorn, and that was a big hit.
We made a big bowl of popcorn, and lit a fire, and sat on the couch eating popcorn and talking about school. My oldest got so overcome with how much he actually likes school, that he decided he wanted to go to school tomorrow instead of going to Great Barrington with me and his little brother to spend the weekend with his cousin and aunt. I am speaking at a class at Simon's Rock College tomorrow, (my sister is on faculty there) and then we'll get to have a nice weekend with them - and more cold!! But he came around, and will go with me, once I explained that I can't drive up to do the class, and drive back to get him, and then go back up.
But I respect that he tried.
I just got this picture from the BookMania festival of me with Rick Bragg. What a doll he is. I loved getting to visit with him. Really made me feel like home. Wish I were down there now.

6 More Weeks

2009-02-03T18:51:00.000-08:00

I was away in Florida last week seeing my in-laws with my husband and sons after the incredibly fun and wonderful BookMania festival in Stuart, Florida. I had such a great time. So much fun that it even made up for the fact that it was my first night ever away from my two boys. I had to fly separately from them, even though we all flew into West Palm Beach, and as I was connecting planes in Atlanta, I realized that I felt unmoored, as if my bearings were off. I missed them. And I realized that I have become so used to every second of my day being either involved completely with them, or immediately jumping into getting some work done (or falling into bed), that it felt as if my brain didn't know what to do with all this time that didn't have demands upon it. Especially once I checked into the hotel and was getting dressed for the cocktail party (I didn't wear any of those clothes I had bought, in fact, had returned them before I even got down to Fla, knowing they'd be wrong, and they would have been). I am so used to knowing the exact minimal number of minutes I need to get dressed or prepare myself for something, that having all that time made my mind feel like it was trying to feel cozy in the Grand Canyon. I couldn't believe how vast it was. And I am only talking about an hour and half, but I haven't had an hour and a half to get dressed when no one asked me - or needed me - to do anything else in five years. It was lovely, but I'm not heartbroken I don't always have it. There is a lot to be said for not having much time to care about what I wear. Though I did call my friend, Jené, in NY to get her advice about wearing the pants I had worn on the plane with a dressier top to the party because once I got down there, I realized that the dress I had brought for the party was completely wrong. And thank God, she's great visually, an interior designer after all, and told me to ditch the dress and I'm so glad I did.
Anyway. I had a great time at the party with Karin Slaughter, what a hoot she is. I've always loved her books, and now love her. And Hallie Ephron, whose sister Amy read at Spoken Interludes in LA, and whose ex-brother-in-law I am friends with but haven't seen in years, so got caught up on them. Then I had dinner with my cousin Alafair, who I hadn't seen in too long, and David Ebershoff, whose book, Pasadena, I loved and he's going to read at Spoken Interludes with his newest, The 19th Wife, and I'm thrilled about that. The loveliest people - Jim and Cher Foth, and Maggi and Roger - took us out to dinner at a beautiful harbor club and regaled us with great stories about Scientology and run-ins with Coast Guard and transporting Baby Doc. Then the panel the next morning was great fun. Garth Stein was hysterical and very touching about his book, and Lily Koppel was fascinating about hers, and the two Dianes, Diane Hammond and Diane McKinney-Whetstone, were both wonderful. And the crowd was great. I was so impressed with what a perfect festival that community puts on. It was an amazing treat.
Then I was driven back to the airport where Dan and the boys picked me up, and it felt great to be a momma again, and we lived in bathing suits for a week and didn't have a schedule and only cared about sunscreen and ate French fries every day and remembered what the sun is and were bolstered enough to make it through the next 6 weeks of winter that that damn groundhog has decided we are going to have.
xo

Let Freedom Ring

2009-01-20T18:24:00.001-08:00

I joined most of the country, if not world, today and watched the Inauguration. My oldest son's preschool lets out at 11:45. Usually, he plays on the field with his friends when I pick him up, but today I explained to him that we needed to get home to watch our new president get sworn in. He wanted to know what the president is. I told him that New York state is like his classroom, but instead of Mrs. Marinas, we have a governor. And the whole country is like his school, but instead of Sasha (the administrator), we have a president who helps make the rules, and works to make sure that everyone is taken care of and okay. This seemed to make sense to him.
We got home just as Yo Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman were performing. Wasn't it glorious? Both of my sons sat on my lap, and were captivated. I had just started to cry, when suddenly the picture turned to black. I realized that my two year old was holding one of the many remotes that I have no idea what they do and had pushed some button and now there was nothing on the screen. Dan had Tivo'd the events before he left for work, but I really wanted to see it live. I could not figure out how to get a picture back, so I called Dan, interrupting a meeting - oops! - but if there is anything to interrupt a meeting about it is watching Obama become president. Dan walked me through, demonstrating the patience of a saint, and there on the TV was Obama giving his speech. My sons and I sat down again, though they were less interested now that the cello and violin weren't on anymore, but I adored every word. When Obama talked about how his father would not have been served at a restaurant sixty years ago, and now he here was, I started to cry. My oldest son asked me why I was crying, and I said because I am very, very happy. I hope he remembers this event. They never see me watch TV, so that alone might make it memorable enough, but I hope he remembers something of it. One of my earliest memories is when Mildred, the nanny who raised me, left. It wasn't long after Martin Luther King was shot, and Momma told me years later that Mildred just couldn't take the South anymore after that. I must have been three the afternoon she went away, but I'll never forget hugging her thin legs, and trying to keep her from leaving. She walked out the door in a blur of white from her uniform's skirt and her cigarette's smoke. All I knew was that she had to go because of someone named Martin Luther King, and I wanted to know who he was.
Five years ago, my oldest son was born on Martin Luther King day, and when he arrived, I felt that Mildred must have had a hand in it, where ever she was. I'm just so happy that the world he came into is so different from the one that she and I were in together back then.

The Sounds of Silence

2009-01-18T08:55:00.000-08:00

I am home alone, a rare and unusual feat. Dan took the boys to my mother's apartment that she keeps in Tarrytown. My oldest son, I am sure, is having a wonderful time playing with his cousin who lives in Great Barrington, and is, in his mind, the best thing in the universe, better even than airplanes. My youngest son is being doted on and played with by my mother and sister, and he will come home and talk about them for hours. And Dan is, no doubt, sprawling on the couch with the NY Times, and a game on the telly. When I told him that he would be able to watch sports to his heart's content over there, he said, "Cutie, it's an important day!" I am guessing that the upcoming Superbowl has something to do with that statement. I don't really know, though I look forward to hearing about it upon his return. What I do know is that I am immersing myself in quietude, and it is heaven. When they left, I straightened the house, and started a load of wash. I am one of the odd birds who actually enjoys light housekeeping, note I said "light"! Part of it is that it feels like a reclaiming of my home, a mini-nesting, as it were. It is also a great time for idle, rambling, stream-0f-conscious thought that always gives me information about the novel I am working on, and on my life in general. And also, because a novel is such a long process, there is a deep satisfaction in doing something and seeing an immediate result. A bed made. An egg cooked. Dishes washed. I finished the Sunday Times that came yesterday, (our delivery person can't make it up our driveway in the snow we are having, so Dan took the paper that came today out of mailbox at the bottom of the hill with him to Momma's), worked out on the rowing machine - my new love and life saver. I can even do it when the kids are around which is great because I refuse to pay someone to watch them so I can work out. And I caught up on a little email, am writing this, and will go have a long bath, and then I will sit in my living room and look out the long wall of windows that is the back of my house, and look at the snow, and be in a home where nothing is moving, and revel in silence and stillness.
xo

Wrapped Up and Tied With a Bow

2009-01-11T16:19:00.000-08:00

It was (is) my birthday today, and it was a really lovely one. My sons woke me at 7:30 by tumbling onto the bed with cards they had made, and they snuggled up on each side while I read them. My almost five year old signs his name any chance he gets, so his had a huge signature, and my two year old had a piece of paper with beautiful scribbles on it, but as my oldest explained, "he thinks it says something." so we all pretended it did. Then Dan brought me tea in bed, made perfectly I might add, and I got to read some of the Stephen Pinker article in the NY Times Magazine section about genomes - really fascinating, then Dan made me Rocky Mountain toast which was totally yummy. Then Walter wanted to make cupcakes for Katie, our babysitter's daughter, since it's her birthday tomorrow, and the two year old needed a diaper change, and the dishes needed doing, and I was trying to get out the house for yoga, and I looked at Dan and said, "Cutie, you're being me." And he said, "I know, and it's really hard." I told him that there wasn't anything in all of Tiffany's that would have meant more to me than what he said. So, I went to a class at Yogaworks (hooray for downward dog) and they figured out how to make the cupcakes on their own. Then I came home and we all went for lunch at City Limits Diner where they have a great tuna melt and fries - my fave meal right now. The boys mostly ignored their pancakes, and ate my fries and played with their trucks. Then we braved the mall. And actually, it wasn't terrible. We found a great coffee table at Crate and Barrel at a ridiculous price (cheaper than the sale price) because it was the floor sample, and we've been needing to replace the steamer trunk we've been using forever, so that was a nice happenstance, and then I found an outfit, also on sale - love having a birthday during January - at J Crew. For some reason, the skirt isn't on the website, but it it's a great, kinda short, but not too, really simple black skirt with a bit of a retro feel to it, and here is the top. Okay, it looks awful on the web, but I promise it is really fun with the skirt. I think they will be great for a cocktail reception I have to go to next Friday in Florida, near Boca, at BookMania, a book festival I am doing. If you are down there, come by. It looks like it will be much fun. I love a lot of the other authors they are having, including my cousin, Alafair Burke. It'll be nice to do that with her. It's 71 there right now. I am SO thrilled to be going and leaving this snow. I am just not cut out for this weather. We're going to stay at Dan's parents in Boca for a week after the festival and I plan to be outside with the boys the entire time. But anyway, the big question is: what shoes do I wear with that outfit???
xo

Living in Lingerie and other Southern Afflictions (i.e. a family of writers)

2009-01-09T11:36:00.000-08:00

An essay I wrote about my transition from LA to NY was published this month in Westchester Magazine. It follows my adjustment from living in slips to wearing winter-worthy clothes. If you'd like to check it out, click here.

I wish I could wear only a slip right now. We are supposed to get four to eight inches of snow tomorrow. I'm happy my sons love it because I am just not cut out for this cold. My Southern (CA and LA) roots are calling.
xo
PS While you are at the Westchester Magazine website (if you go), you can also check out an earlier piece I did for them about seeking my namesake in Paris. That one is here.

And, not to get tiresome, but Susan Larson of the New Orleans Times-Picayune gave my family a nice notice in her year end round-up. Six of us published novels in the span of four months in '08. She only knew of five (Andre Dubus III, James Lee Burke, Alafair Burke, Pamela Binnings Ewen, and myself) the sixth is my brother-in-law, John Lawson, who wrote a wonderful book, Hurricane Hotel and read from it at Spoken Interludes. Now, if I could only get us all in the same room for a show... You can read her piece here.

A New Pair of Glasses

2009-01-08T17:21:00.000-08:00

Well, it finally happened. My glasses broke. This was not a great surprise to me since I have two small sons who love pulling them off my face, but what with it coinciding with the new year, it is hard for me not to view this (pun intended, sorry!) as a metaphor. Off with the old and on with new sort of thing. Time, once again, for reckoning. Which, frankly, is all that I feel I've been doing since late December, and will continue to do for another week or so. My youngest son's birthday is late December, mine is very soon, and my older son's is mid/late January, so what with January 1 stuck in there, too, every year at this time, I have a nonstop month of "Look where you were before and where you are now." To be honest, it's exhausting. Not that it isn't joyful, too. It is nonstop cakes and parties, and I can't think of anything I'd rather do than celebrate my sons being here, but the four opportunities right in a row for me to reflect on time/life passages is a bit much. And I'm not even mentioning the other family and family-like members (okay, 5 of them) who celebrate at this time, too. I can only wonder if the Universe (yes, I did live in LA for years; I have anthropomorphized the Universe) thinks that I am particularly dense and need 4 tries to get this new year ritual right. Whatever it is. Because it changes every year. For the longest, and grimmest, time, I made lots of list. God save me. There were lists for everything, so certainly there were lists for the new year. What I would do, have, create (yes, this was in LA). Then sanity somehow descended, or would it ascend? And I stopped all of that. No more lists. And the amazing thing was that life got easier. More organized. I stopped feeling behind before I even got out of bed. But this year (please yell if you hear insanity approaching, I really won't mind), I am taking a tiny step back (or should that be forward?) to a list. But I am calling it the Non-list because it will never be written down where it can become its own terrible identity and taunt and tease me until I tear the goddamn thing up. In March. So there is no list, just the Non-list, a kind of internal what-I-feel-like-moving-towards thing. And so far, so good. But I'll let you know. It could fall apart tomorrow, though somehow, I think it won't. But either way, I'll still have a new pair of glasses. Until those break, too.
xo

Chris the Plumber

2008-11-24T18:46:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write since I had a Spoken Interludes last Thursday night, but my two small sons woke up sick on Friday morning, so I have been on the front lines with that (not to mention my own flu-y symptoms) since then. But we seem to be starting to resemble normal people again. I think. My four year old was too sick to go to preschool today, but not too sick to run around the house, but then was fast asleep by 6:00, so maybe he is still sick. Mostly, I'm just tired. And speaking of, that is what I wanted to write about in the first place. Christopher Plummer was supposed to read at Spoken Interludes last week, but wasn't able to because of exhaustion (he recently finished a six month run of a play in Canada, and you know how tiring those damn Canadians are). So, after I got over my initial and vast disappointment, and girded myself for the audience canceling in droves, I emailed everyone to let them know he wasn't going to be doing the show.
To my immense and joyful surprise, only 6 people canceled their reservations. Though part of that probably had to do with the fact that I let them know that Arthur Phillips was coming up from Brooklyn to read instead. Arthur read at SI in LA with his first novel, and has been a regular ever since. I adore Captain Von Trapp as much as the next girl, but to be honest, I think Arthur is easily his equal in wit and charm.
Anyway, as I was going around the room, meeting people who hadn't been before, and saying hello to the regulars, I stopped at a table where a couple who attends every show was seated.
These people are darling, and so sweet. She could be Brooke Astor's younger twin, and in the years they have been attending (every show) I have never heard him speak. So I stopped to say hello, and she said to me, "You know, Saul reads our emails, so the other day, I was in the kitchen, and he yelled to me, 'Christopher Plummer isn't coming. He's exhausted.' Now, my plumber's name is Chris," she continued. "And I was expecting him that day, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out why Chris the Plummer would be so tired that he wouldn't come."
I told that story to Arthur and to Michael Gates Gil - who was also reading that night, what a treasure and force of nature he is - and they both said I had to tell it when I introduced the evening, which I did. We missed Mr. Plummer, but it was a wonderful night - very festive and warm.
I realize that at this point I am meant to think of some witty rejoinder linking Chris the Plummer to Joe the Plumber, but I am either too tired of hearing about him, or just too tired.

The Morning After

2008-11-05T12:16:00.000-08:00

A friend sent me an email with this:
There was a victory party in Teaneck, NJ.
A handwritten poster on the wall said the following:
"Rosa sat,
so Martin Luther King could walk,
so Barako Obama could run,
so our children can fly.
Yes, we can!"
I feel like I am flying today. I cried last night, no surprise, during Obama's acceptance speech. I was sitting in my living room - my husband was still at Richard Brodsky's house watching the returns there, Brodsky won again for State Assemblyman, hooray! - watching this historic event unfold, and I thought about my father. My father died over nine years ago, but during his life, was a staunch Republican, beginning when being a Republican in South Louisiana meant something different than it does today. When he and my mother first moved to Baton Rouge in the mid-50's, they helped start the Republican party there because the city was all Democrat. He always said he would have helped start it even if he wasn't a Republican because he believed in a bipartisan system. My father's family is from New Orleans, but he was raised in Jackson, Mississippi. I remember as a small child being very proud because I had never ever heard my father say a disparaging word about African-Americans. But he was still a product of his place and time, and my father could not have pulled that lever for Obama, no matter what party held his allegiance. I sat in my house last night, while my two sons were sleeping in their room, and I knew that they will never have any idea what a huge seismic shift had just occurred. To them, it will just be President Obama. To my father, it was an impossibility. I am so deeply happy that the link in that chain is broken forever.

11/04/08

2008-11-04T20:28:00.000-08:00

Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. What an amazing and transforming night to live through. Especially as a Southerner, to watch this country put Obama into office, and leave behind so many years of strife. To finally let go of those differences and be united by beliefs. I have never been more proud to be an American. God bless Obama, and us all.

Albany, the Internet, and erstaz LA

2008-10-24T13:48:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all,
On Wednesday, I drove up to Albany to speak at a meeting of the superintendents of the special act schools in New York about Spoken Interludes Next, the outreach writing program for at-risk youth that I developed and run. The meeting was at The Century House Hotel in Latham, just outside of Albany. I got there right at lunch time, and had some yummy squash soup and pasta salad while I spoke to them about the program. They all want the program for their schools, which I am thrilled about, but now to find the funding! ;) Then I got back in my car and drove home. The whole drive was the 87 and I really enjoyed the 2 and a half hours there and back alone in the car. the leaves are just about to be at peak, and most of the drive is just stretches of landscape. it was very relaxing.

I also was able to speak to a woman - using my ear piece, not hand held! ;) - that I've been wanting to talk to for research for my new book, so it was heaven being able to be on the phone with her for a whole uninterrupted hour. She gave me some great stuff that will be very helpful. Then that night, I did a call-in show with Book Club Girl about The Safety of Secrets - check it out here. It was lots of fun. It was great to hear from so many readers, and people asked questions that I hadn't heard before, and that is always fun. I felt like I learned things about my book from the readers' feedback. Then last night, I was in Riverdale doing a benefit for the Riverdale Senior Services Center. It was at the home of Dr. Jonathan Zizmor and his wife, Alexandra. They couldn't have been more lovely and sweet. Alexandra made a gorgeous meal. Two kinds of salmon, fried chicken, amazing salads, rice, pasta. The only thing that kept me from eating tons was seeing the desserts that were waiting, and not wanting to be too full for when I had to read and speak about the book. I felt like I was back in LA in one of those fabulous Spanish style mansions that are all over the Hollywood hills. Their home was that style, and gorgeous, and it was a wonderful eclectic group of people. It was great fun.
But now it is all about Halloween costumes!!!
:)

Come Say Hey

2008-10-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to remind y'all that I'll be doing a live phone chat on Book Club Girl tomorrow night at 7 PM Eastern Standard Time. Here's the link if you want to call in, and say hey or ask a question about my book or about anything else, though I might not be able to expound much on other topics. Or I shouldn't expound much, but will anyway, as my husband might say! ;)
Anyway, it'd be fun to connect, so give a ring.
xo

Vogue

2008-10-10T12:04:00.001-07:00

I went to Vogue the other day. I had asked Abigail Walch, one of their feature editors with whom I am friendly, if I could come sit in the Condé Nast library to do research on my new novel, and she graciously said yes. So I put on my black high heeled boots, and a little black dress that I got at a little boutique in Silver Lake when I still lived in LA that I love because 1) the way it is cut, and 2) because its provenance is impossible to discern. And I he aded down to their great building on 42nd street. The library is on the 4th floor,
right by the cooking kitchen for Gourmet - yum! I got there about 11, and settled in at a table with books holding the archives of
Vogue from the '80's. If I ever doubted the power of advertising and/or the media, I don't any longer. I remembered every shot. Every one. I suddenly wondered if I had spent hours and days reading each issue when I was growing up. Not that it wasn't a happy pursuit, but still. Boy, did it bring lots back. And it opened up a whole aspect of the novel that I hadn't even thought about. I love when that happens, and have always believed that that is one of the most important parts of research is seeing a direction I need to go that I didn't realize I did. I even found a tiny little piece, literally 3 paragraphs about a law in Louisiana that completely pertains to my book. What are the odds of that?? It was a strange feeling to sit there perched above 42nd street in the city of my childhood dreams holding (albeit a different copy, but) an issue of Vogue that I had read as a teenager and to see the same images now that I saw then, and to have so many different reactions to them now. And friends from my life now that were in there back then when I had no idea who they were. Like an essay by Eve Babitz, a wonderful LA writer who I adore. It was an amazing meander down lots of different lanes.
Then, no surprise, I was famished. So I went to the famous and fabulous Condé Nast cafeteria. It reminded me a bit of the Warner Brothers' commissary, but East Coast style.
Here's my lunch:
I didn't get a picture of the two chocolate cookies I got, but they were really yummy, too. Then I went back to the library, and got on their computers for a bit to look at archives of the New Yorker from before Condé Nast bought it.
And I impressed myself that I was able to figure out the system, even though it was on a PC. - Elizabeth and Maggi and Dan, did you hear that??? ;) -
Then I had to run home as I was about to turn into a pumpkin - i.e. a mom. And to be honest, I was happy to get home, kick off my boots, and see my boys. We played tigers at the zoo. My bed was their cage, and I was the zoo keeper - I refuse to see this metaphorically! I fed them tasty treats, and kept the baby tiger from trying to get out of the cage. We all had great fun.
xo
And, no, Anna Wintour was never in sight.

Where I Was and Where I'll Be

2008-10-06T13:29:00.000-07:00

So, we went up to the Berkshires this past weekend to see my sister and her 6 year old son, and to go to the Berkshire Botanical Garden Harvest Festival, an event we haven't missed in three years. It was great fun. The weather was glorious, the leaves were turning, and I was able to pretend that winter isn't fast approaching. My 4 year old and his cousin went up in a cherry picker with my husband - here's the shot my husband took from the bucket. I get terrible vertigo which was explained to me once is the fear that one will jump if one gets close to the edge. Which I guess is how I feel. Or that the edge will somehow swoop up and engulf me, and sort of suck me off and take me down. Which I guess is another way of describing jumping. Anyway. I stayed on the ground. And was very happy when the three adventurers got down, too.

I'm thrilled to be doing a radio show with Book Club Girl on Wednesday, October 22nd at 7 pm EST. Here's the info and a link to the show. It's a call-in, so phone in. It'd be fun to say hey.
xo