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On Purple Velvet Coats & Excellent Mustaches, Agents, EBooks & Hair

Well. If that blog post title didn’t confuse you, just read on. There is a method to the madness.

Okay, not really. Just go with it. My brain is full of very many random competing things today. There’s a short story going to post later (for #TheBet) but right now, right here, this is just me and I’m having an “interesting” day (wherein interesting is a pseudonym for crazy. And other things.).

The purple velvet jacket. Loverly, eh?

Not sure if you remember, but some time ago I think I had blogged (unless it was just a dream) about how one of the things I really love about living around the Notting Hill/Portobello area is that you can see so many interesting people wandering around. Like the tall skinny fellow with the incredible mustache I’d seen a few times wandering about in a purple velvet suit. I had hoped I’d run into him again because he just looked so darn interesting (yes, there’s that word again, but really here I just mean interesting. And cool.). And I also saw him often carrying around an instrument, which makes it even better. Music makes everything better.

Anyway, we stopped off in a pop up shop yesterday on Portobello Road (pop up roughly means hello, this is really just my house, but come on up and see the cool stuff I and my friends make and have some tea. You can buy some if you like.) and lo, there he was. His name is Robbie and not only does he make really cool clothes (Humphries and Begg) along with another lady, but he still has the most excellent mustache AND he does some type of music class for kids on Wednesdays. So we’re definitely checking that out.

If you’re curious about the clothes OR the mustache, check out the pictures on their website. I think I need the green velvet vest. Oh, and the art was very cool as well, from a number of people, all very interesting.

I obviously need a new word.

Anyway, continuing on. I got some very interesting news today. I’m not sure yet what it’s really going to mean for me, but my agent (Larry Kirshbaum) is leaving agenting to run Amazon.com’s new ePublishing venture. Which is huge news for publishing, but also kinda big news for me. If you followed my agent-y saga, I switched agents to work with Larry (I liked my original agent a lot and had no issues with her, but Larry flew out to Chicago and wooed me and we got on really well). Haven’t talked with him yet or with the agent taking over his agency, so really am just kind of up in the air at the moment.

The really good thing about it, I guess, is that I’m sure Larry will really shake up the ePublishing world and I’m sure it will be in a good way. So I’m looking forward to see what happens there.

So.

Anyway, I shall leave you with a conversation The Max and I had yesterday. I should also mention that he’s started picking up the accent here, mostly with the letter O. If you hear him say home or stone or anything with an O in it, he’s gone all British on us.

That, however, doesn’t really explain this conversation:

Me: Max, what’s wrong with your hair? (it was standing up and very mussy in general, just all over the place)

The Max: It’s English!

The Max and Mommy rocking tattoos

The Max and I are rocking some Sucks to Be Me tattoos today. World, be prepared.

I be cool.
Look, Ma, we match!

And, yeah, if you want some (also have batty), you can email me and tell me. Signed bookplates too. You’ll need to tell me your address too, of course.

On teenage me, not writing, and whatever else my brain spews out

This week has turned into the no-nanny week (though I might get a respite on Friday). Also a big week of visits. Yesterday, The Max and I had a coffee break with our landlord, who is an actual LADY…which I mean in the noble English sense, not in the…wait, no, she’s nice and everything too. So, okay, I suppose she’s a lady in every sense of the word. Which Tony attempted to explain to The Max in terms he would understand, so now The Max thinks she’s “amost” a princess. Which is pretty cool in his book. And we had dinner with a former co-worker of my husband’s, which was nice. She’s vegetarian, so Tony made homemade pizza.

Anyway, all of that has meant that I’ve really gotten almost no writing done so far this week. A bit here and there, but nothing major. Which means that my brain is about to melt out of my ears. Hopefully I’ll get in some today. I can actually sometimes go for ages without writing, but if I’ve got a project stewing in my brain, it’s hard not to write.

My current WIP which *still* has no code name is very much stewing. It’s in me, and it’s gots to come out (if you don’t know who John Lee Hooker is, you should look him up).

I did have one other thing going on this week. My Dear Teen Me letter posted up yesterday. That was a little hard to write. Honestly, I think if there were time travel, I’d want to only go forward. What about you? Which way would you go?

Um. I have to go now. The Max just said “I can’t get the spoon out of my pants.” And I turn around to see him with his pants and underpants hanging around his ankles. I am not asking why there is a spoon in his pants, nor do I want to know where exactly it has been in there.

 

On fathers and daughters

This makes me smile. I needed it today too. And thanks to an old high school boyfriend on Facebook for posting the video (yeah, Facebook is good for some things and if you’re reading this, Stephen, which I highly doubt, I don’t mean that you’re old. At least, not any older than I am… Okay, sorry, we’re old. But you’re still cool and I still thank you for really introducing me to all that Led Zeppelin has to offer.).

It was one of those heartwarming little things that made me have to go out and do a search and see what else I could find out about these people. And yes, I’m late coming to this. Apparently, it’s been going viral for a while and they’ve already been on Ellen, etc., etc. So I’m late and old.

It was this article by Craig J. Heimbuch (dude. That name. Wow.) that really did it for me though. Go read it. Just a lovely piece of writing and such a story.

It makes me want to get a guitar and sing with The Max. Except that I can’t play the guitar. But I can sing and we do that already, so maybe we’re half way there.

Hey. Excuse me. I need to go sing with my little man.

Be well.

The dangers of betting, bargain books, and my new favorite bookstore @travelbookshop

Well, just to warn you…this will be a rather rambly, long-ish post.

If you were curious, The Bet I was in with three other authors has partly been decided. I was the grand loser (winner). If you recall, I had picked Uncle Mo as my horse for the Derby, but then he was scratched because of gastrointestinal issues. So then I had to pick another horse. I narrowed it down to Comma to the Top and Mucho Macho Man. I wasn’t able to watch the race because of the time difference, but apparently Comma to the Top was either first or second throughout most of it…to get an ankle injury or something at the end and finish dead last.

Catherine Ryan Hyde gave me this title for the short story I had to write: Uncle Mo’s Gastrointestinal Tract

Um, yeah. That’s why you should never make a bet with authors. I’ve got a first draft of the story done, but I need to do some edits. All I can say is…poor, poor Uncle Mo.

More on that soon…

In other news, have noticed that the hardcover of my second book, Still Sucks to Be Me, is being sold at a deep discount over at Amazon, probably in prep for the paperback release in June. So, if you wanna you can pick one up there pretty cheap right now in the US. No idea how long that will last. You know Amazon. It jumps from “in stock” to “only 3 left!” to “in stock” to “only 7 left!” in the space of a day.

In yet other news, I have some news that I can’t tell you. Sorry.

Related to that, I’ve heard some really good news about a friend. But I can’t tell you that either. Sorry.

Hopefully I’ll be relating both to you pretty soon. If I don’t die of the waiting. Is that possible? Probably not. If it were, writers would be dropping dead all the time (warning: if you crave instant gratification, don’t become a writer).

Anyway, the new SUPER SHINY SEKRIT PROJECT THAT STILL NEEDS A CODE NAME is coming along nicely. I’m so happy and excited about it that it’s absolutely terrifying. I’m closing in on 20,000 words (very, very close) and am on chapter 12 at the moment. ACK!

In Notting Hill / Portobello Road kind of news (technically, Blenheim Crescent), I’ve now found my new favorite bookshop. The great thing about this area is that there are lots of little bookshops, many with very specific focuses (can you guess what Books for Cooks sells?) There are the big shops, like Waterstones and W.H. Smith and Foyle’s, but I have to admit I prefer smaller ones. I do like Daunt books, which is a small chain with just a few stores, but their closest shop to us is up by Holland Park Gate (which isn’t super far, but I’m not that way all that often). They do have a lovely children’s section.

But my new favorite is quite close to us. It’s called The Travel Bookshop and it is a fixture of the area. It’s also one of the inspirations for the bookshop in that Notting Hill movie (you might have heard of it). I’d gone in before, but only on the weekends and it is absolutely slammed then with tourists. We went today because Max and I had won a Travel Bookshop bag and some tea in their Kissing Photo Contest.

Um, maybe I should back up. Back a weekend or two ago, I’d noticed they were having a kissing photo contest. You were supposed to go outside their shop and take a picture kissing and then send it to them for their Facebook page.

We were out walking around on Portobello for the market (we’re so close, we pretty much go every week…it’s just a few blocks) and I thought we might as well do it for the fun of it. Anyway, we were one of the winners, which I’m sure is completely attributable to The Max.

So we stopped by today to pick up our prize and the store had just a few customers in it instead of being the madhouse it usually is when I’ve gone there. I actually got to browse around today and I just love it. It’s definitely focused on travel books, but they include literary works about the different areas (like go to the Italy section and you’ll find books on travel, but you might also find something like Under the Tuscan Sun). They also have a bit of a children’s section and even some YA books too! All in all, just a very nice little shop. I’m happy to have a new favorite local independent bookshop now. I’ve been missing that. Back in our old neighborhood north of Chicago, all of them had closed. It’s great to see so many here.

On weddings, opera, cute little boys, and synopsis-izing

Haven’t blogged for a few days, mostly because I’ve been sick. Yeah, that’s not news…I’ve been sick for an entire FREAKING month. Yesterday though, I seem to have added food poisoning on top of the whatever-the-heck-evil-cough-thing I have is. I shall spare you the details, but suffice it to say that food and I were not getting on at all. Water and I, as a matter of a fact, weren’t on speaking terms either.

I’m beginning to wonder if we are, indeed, the House of Plague. Maybe I should get a sign for the door that says “Abandon all Health Ye Who Enter Here.”

But to talk of better things…

I suppose I should mention the Wedding. And you have to capitalize it because it’s that BIG a deal. It was literally a holiday here and I have to think they planned it that way since it gave everyone here a four day weekend (with May Day) and it followed another four day weekend (Easter). You can literally buy *anything* emblazoned with the smiling faces of Prince William and (now) Princess Catherine / Kate.

We did not attend the wedding.

We did not go NEAR the wedding.

I mean, seriously. Did you see the TV coverage? Did you see how many people were there? Some of them having camped out for DAYS?

No, we watched it on TV just like half of the world did. I honestly felt a bit silly watching it, but it *was* a historic occasion. And then we went out to Bel Canto for dinner where the wait staff serenade you with opera.

Not kidding.

It was great. The Max enjoyed it too. Here he is toasting with Katya, one of the singers.

Bel CantoBut wait. I promised you cute little boy(s), right? Can’t resist posting one more picture of The Max…

He’s just killing me with the cute.

I think he’s probably enjoying me being sick in a way. Today he got to watch two movies and then he got to eat two popsicles. In a row. And then another one after dinner.

Yeah, I’m that mom when I’m sick.

In other news, I think we’re (and when I say “we” I really mean “The Max”) making some good progress on the potty training front. In the last five days he’s only had one accident and that one wasn’t really his fault. So, YAY!

It’s the little things in life.

He was actually doing really great with it all before we moved, but moving really disrupted…well, everything. I know how the little man feels. So I’m really proud of him.

Potty training also makes for some really interesting conversations, but I’ll spare you those.

Trust me on this one.

Anyway, news on the new book…AKA the Sekrit Project (you know, I know it’s all Internet Cools and All but it kind of kills me a little bit inside whenever I misspell something on purpose…and yet I keep doing it. Hm.)

I’ve got 10 chapters done and also a full synopsis. I had to stop and step back and do one after all. Wasn’t planning on it, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I’m really liking it. Kinda scary. I keep thinking it’s going to go wrong somewhere, but so far it isn’t (or, at least, I don’t think it is…). I’d taken a brief break to look at some other stuff (and the whole, you know, puking my guts up thing) and am anxious to get back to it. Have twiddled with the chapters that are already done too…something I usually try not to do until I’m all the way through a first draft. Yah, breaking the rules all over the place.

My soundtrack for this book includes Tom Waits, Chris Isaak, K. T. Tunstall, Norah Jones, Nina Simone, Ani DiFranco, Cowboy Junkies, Leonard Cohen, Paula Cole and Christina Aguilera. So far. I seem to be expanding it every day. There might be a really long playlist for this one. I welcome your suggestions (nothing fast paced, ethereal is good, plaintive is okay, heavy on the female side of things).

Oh, and I finally also finished writing up my Dear Teen Me letter. It’ll be going up later this month. Ulp.

Chocolate

The Max takes after me most decidedly on one respect.

Chocolate.

I say that reverently, and with the proper respect.

Today we baked some double chocolate mini cupcakes and took them to his football (soccer) class. We also randomly gave them out to people on the street. You know, spreading  chocolate joy to the world. The street cleaner guy, a little girl who was passing by in a stroller with her parents, the guy at the convenience store nearby.

And we gave some to our neighbor, Ms. Maria, an older Italian lady who has lived in London for years (ever since she married an Englishman, who has since died, leaving her behind to tend to an herb garden gone wild because he was the cook, not her). She had to return the favor by giving us some chocolate sweets (as an aside, she likes to call The Max “Chucky Chuck” which really disturbed him for a while, but now he’s okay with it). One for each of us: me, The Max, and daddy.

Max’s got eaten in about two seconds.

About five minutes later, he’s in front of me with mine, unwrapped. “Split it, Mommy?” he asks. So, of course, I have to agree. Who can resist that? He breaks it in half and gives me the smaller bit. We eat it.

Daddy’s chocolate sits on the table all through dinner. Then it gets opened. Daddy isn’t home yet. Max looks at me. He breaks the chocolate into three pieces. He looks at me again. He eats one piece. “My share,” he says.

A little while later, I see that he’s holding the one he designated as my share of daddy’s chocolate. “Go ahead and eat it,” I say. That’s all the encouragement he needs.

A little while after that, I see that daddy’s share has magically dwindled down to this tiny, sodden mass of grubby chocolate clutched in his hand. I tell Max to go ahead and eat it. He does. Then he looks at me very seriously. Solemn, with big eyes. “I ate all daddy’s chocolate. He’s going to be mad.”

He looks very solemn. I tell him it will be our secret.

Chocolate. The ties that bind mother and son.

Poopy talk

The Max (poking at one of his three freckles, a dark brown one near the top of his leg): “Mommy, freckles are poopy?”

Me: “No, silly, freckles aren’t poopy! Then they’d be stinky!” (Goes on in a vain attempt to explain skin and pigment and melatonin to a three year old)

The Max: “Mommy, get out of here! Freckles are poop!”

 

(otherwise known as a story that he’s going to hate me for in about 10 years)

Walk or run?

The Max: “Mommy, I’m too tired to walk.” (makes puppy dog eyes at me)

Me: “Me too. Why don’t we run?”

The Max: (pause) “Yeah!” (takes off at full speed)

…randomness from my day

Maxism of the Day: “Mommy, I have pepperoni fingers!” (this is what he calls prune-y bath fingers)

What I’ve been listening to: a lot of Ani DiFranco and Morcheeba plus some Tom Waits thrown in for good measure

Frustration of the Day: figuring out State Farm didn’t cancel our car insurance back in December when we sold our car before we moved to London, even though I notified them at least 3 times and got an email confirmation back

Number of Times I Checked My Email: A number so large it approaches infinity

Number of Swigs of Nasty Tasting Cough Syrup: four

Number of Gag Reflexes I had to Repress: four

Number of People Who Contacted Me About a Third Mina Book Today: five

Number of Words Added to New Manuscript: 1,117

Words that Sucked: 332

Number of Idiotic, Meaningless Tweets that were Probably a Thinly Disguised Cry for Help: too many to mention

What I made for dinner: wild boar sausage with roasted potatoes and carrots

Best Moment of the Day: from The Max: “Mommy, you’re my best girl!”

On Slaying Dragons

Just so we’re clear, this post isn’t actually about Dragons. It’s just what I wanted to call the post and I let my brain do it even though it doesn’t make sense. What this post is about is actually Dungeons and Dragons. No, wait, it’s really about feeling old and never growing up ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

So maybe I should start over.

Punjar CityLast night I went for my second D&D session (an adventure in Punjar City, with my first real D&D character — a half-elf Warlord) at The Counting House pub. Honestly, I’ve wanted to try D&D for years. I had friends who played in high school, but I never *really* played. I know a lot about it in general from playing related computer games (I shudder to think how many hours I spent playing Baldur’s Gate and Daggerfall and things like that…not to mention the very ancient Eye of the Beholder back in college which my boyfriend-now-husband and I were addicted to…along with Civilization). Playing it for real is different. Of course, playing a 4th edition game is also very different from what my friends back in high school played (which would have been either first edition or the edition before they started numbering the editions…if that makes sense).

So, you might ask, why are you playing D&D now?

It’s research. Really. For a book (which I am unable to tell you anything else about at this time because stuff isn’t finalized yet but I will say that it has a great female lead character that I like very much). But besides being research, it’s also a great excuse to try D&D out. Not that I needed an excuse, exactly. Ahem. I am a grown-up, right? It’s just that D&D can seem a little intimidating to get into, especially for girls (women, whatever). Let’s be honest…mostly guys play it. There are women who do (I’ve met them! And they are generally, as a breed, incredibly awesome and cool and just the kind of women I like to hang out with), but the majority of people who play are guys. And it seems rather mysterious, with all the rule books and plus one this and that and the language that only D&D players seem to know (which is not the same as Klingon, but sometimes seems rather close).

But, since I had this “research” excuse, I finally did it.

I am proud to report that I have not died yet. My half-elf warlord is adventuring within Punjar City (Throughout the Known World, no city is more notorious. A sandy collection of spiderwebbed tenements, chaotic alleys, crumbling walls and rat-ridden bazaars, Punjar is also a city of chance and wealth, where fortunes are won in a night, and lost before dawn.) along with a motley collection of other adventurers. My worst fear was that I would slow down the game for the other people since I am never sure when to use what die to roll (a D6? a D20? a D8?) or what type of attack I should try or that they would, quite simply, think I was just an idiot. But they’ve all been really nice and very patient with me.

I have to say that really playing D&D is different than I thought it would be, but also the same. Which, yes, makes no sense. I’m enjoying it (more the second session than the first), especially being able to just role play and come up with silly things on the fly. I love that kind of stuff. I think as I get more comfortable with the mechanics of it, I’ll enjoy that even more. There’s a bit more technical-ish-ness to it than I thought there would be (though I think that’s partly due to my only hazy memories of real games being back before there were so many rules). That’s the bit that makes me feel old. As you talk to a lot of people playing, they often say the same thing: “Oh, I haven’t played since high school! Just thought I’d get back into it again.” At which point I remember exactly how long ago high school was for me. My brain can never quite wrap around that.

But it’s also making me feel young again (okay, let’s be completely honest…in my brain, I never feel old. I am probably forever a teen in there) in that I’m getting to do something kind of similar to what I do when I’m writing (erm…you know, making stuff up as I go) but I get to do it WITH OTHER PEOPLE. Now that’s fun.

Hmmmm. Okay, looking back I can see that this post didn’t really have much of a point at all.

Alrighty then. How about this: if there’s something you’ve thought about trying and you haven’t done it, for whatever reasons that sound good to you that day…just do it. What’s stopping you? You only live once. Life is too short not to try things.