This is my last post of 2011, so I thought I’d leave you with some random thoughts on reading, disguised as a how-to. Here’s how to read when you really don’t have time to read: 1. Cut something out. For me that one thing was ironically my “Dear Thursday” book report. I’ve found that it’s actually easier to read 52 books a year if I do a few group reports during our bi-annual BOOK WEEKs than if I try to fit in a book report every Thursday for every single book I read. Sadly, I won’t officially be taking on the challenge next year, but I will bring back the group book reports for BOOK WEEK 1 & 2. 2. Have something(s) way more important to do. I’ve been procrastinating with books so bad lately, and that’s because I have a lot on my plate. Don’t think of reading as something you don’t do enough of, make books your guilty pleasure. Way more sexy. In fact, I’m resisting the siren call of Q: A Novel by Evan Mandery as I type this. It involves love and time travel, so I already kind of know I’m going to love it, but stay strong, Ernessa, stay strong! 3. Don’t commit to one way of reading. I’m not going to disparage the “I only read physical books” crowd. I’m just going to say that I probably get more reading done than most non-book-industry that insist on holding to this policy. In order to fit reading in between writing, wifeing, and mothering, I take books in any form that they will have me. I listen to them on my Audible app while I’m walking. I download them to my iPad for trips. I also carry one physical book...

Throughout my L.A. years, I’ve gone on jags of trying to get up earlier. They’ve never stuck — until this year. I’m now out of bed by 6:30am every morning either exercising or doing work. And it was super simple to do. Here’s how I did it: 1. Find the right time. Originally I wanted to get up at 5am g, because this (I’d heard) was how Michelle Obama managed to fit exercise into her busy schedule. 5am worked for a little while. I’d roll out of bed and hit the gym. But by Thursday, I’d be exhausted, barely able to put my daughter to bed before crawling in myself, leaving no quality time with the hubs. I eventually figured out that I needed at least 7 hours of sleep a night, but my husband has a weird schedule that doesn’t allow for going to bed early if I really want to spend time with him. I solved the dilemma by setting the alarm to 6:30 am and getting in bed by 11am, so that I can be to sleep by 11:30. End-of-the-week exhaustion problem totally solved, and I’m still exercising (come back next week for my “How to Exercise” post). 2. Make your smartphone your alarm clock and make it inconvenient to turn off. This has worked even better than the getting seven hours of sleep trick. I set my iphone to the non-abrasive “Sonar” alarm and then I leave it charging on my desk before I go to bed. This nips two problems in the bud. 1) I have to get out of bed to turn off the alarm, which means I have to physically “get up” (as opposed to lying there trying to convince myself to get up) when I wake...

Thanks, Gudrun, for sending me the below comic. Sadly, I wasn’t able to figure out who drew it, so that I could give proper credit. But I wanted to post it anyway, b/c it really captures the spirit of modern roller derby. I was an original L.A. Derby Doll — I mean original-original, answered the first Craigslist ad and showed up for the very first meeting. This wasn’t because I was particularly cool or forward-thinking, but simply because I was new in town and was looking for stuff to do, people to meet. We weren’t even called “fresh meat” back then, because most of us hadn’t done anything beyond ice skating at that point or even seen a live roller derby game — not even one of the old skool variety. However, roller derby ended up getting me through my starving artist years, nursing me through my first big break up and introducing me to both my secret inner bad-ass and my now-husband. It was the best (really random) decision I’ve ever made, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever quit. To this day I stand by the logic of my decision — roller derby was taking up too much of the time that I needed to commit to my writing career — but I still miss it. Man, do I miss...

You know, I always think that our first vacation of the holiday season is going to be oh-so-lovely and relaxing. But in truth, it’s always a bit weird. For one thing, I generally start to miss you guys about one or two days before Thanksgiving break, then over the break itself it feels like great post ideas keep on coming up, but … oh yeah, we’re on vacay. By the time we return to your loving online arms, it’s like “Whew, finally we’re back! TTL.” Then we blink and it’s time for our way longer winter hiatus at the end of December. This is all to say I’m fully in the throes of missing you already. For me, Thanksgiving is a mostly lazy holiday. Ever since the Ernessa Ruined Not One But Three Pumpkin Pies Incident of Thanksgiving 2000, I haven’t been invited to do so much as crack open a can of cranberry sauce  at a Thanksgiving celebration. That’s right, I’ve done absolutely jack at Thanksgiving for over a decade now. So while others might regard this holiday as one of arduous-but-worthy food labor, being one of those people who other people seem to just instinctively shoo away from the kitchen, I think of it as the most boring holiday of the year. Yeah, I said it. I have no online life, people are like, “Are you seriously not going to take a day off from writing, Ernessa” when I try to hide in a dark corner with my laptop, non-Steelers games and Grey’s Anatomy-less Thursdays suck, and I can’t stop nodding off after 5pm. Thanksgiving is soooo boring. And I despise being bored — like can’t stand it on several different levels of can hardly bear it. This is why Thanksgiving is...

So you guys know I likes to mix it up, and I’m try to throw out a few hottie mm-bottie book reports from time to time. Well here are four romantica (romantica = explicit sex and language with a traditional HEA) novels guaranteed to steam up your e-reader. THE SWEET SPOT by Kimberly Kaye Terry I met Ms. Terry, an author who specializes in interracial romantica, at a book conference back in July. She is truly awesome and funny, so we did a book exchange. THE SWEET SPOT is about a nightclub owner and undercover FBI agent named Sweet, who is investigating a pharmacist, suspected of stealing from her own clinic’s supply. Lots of seriously steamy sex ensues.  I opened it up on the plane ride home, and the book was pretty much devoured within twenty-fours. What I Loved: Both main characters came with huge emotional baggage and that the villains had layers. There were no good or bad guys in this story. What I Didn’t Like: There were a few dropped story threads toward the end, and the mystery was a bit convoluted. Writing Lesson Learned: Nice +Seriously Flawed = Likeable Click HERE TO buy the book at Amazon.   ELIZABETH’S WOLF by Lora Leigh  Karen Neches, one of the authors at GIRLFRIENDS BOOK CLUB brought up this big supernatural trend in romance: “Why do people want to read about romances with supernatural creatures? I don’t get it. Especially the werewolf thing. It’s like being secretly attracted to your dog.” I laughed, then I was like, “Wait a minute, what’s this trend all about?” A few months later I ran across a book blog, that made mention of Lora Leigh’s genetically-engineered feline, wolves, and coyotes series. After perusing several of the titles, I settled on...

I really did not have high hopes for this ABC sitcom, which follows the rather problematic and popular-this-season theme, of men not being manly enough these days. I’ve already given you my thoughts on LAST MAN STANDING (a bit better than expected) and HOW TO BE A GENTLEMAN (even worse than expected), so let’s break open the third and hopefully final fall installment of what’s been dubbed the “male” sitcom. Overview: Three buddies, a married guy, a sensitive single guy, and a divorced guy commiserate the lost of their manhood over several remote video game sessions, in between which they live out their lives and manage to get into all sorts of hijinks. What I Liked: The fat and bearded divorced guy brought the comedy. He’s like a really cynical, not nearly as irritating version of Jack Black. I also loved that his ex-wife’s new boyfriend was a ripped black dude who loves meditation and yoga. Who knew Henry Simmons could do comedy? And the situations were killer.  What I Didn’t Like: Constant references to the manly men of generations prior and a wife who only appears onscreen while doing domestic tasks. At one point, I wanted to tap the main guy (who is a way less interesting version of Phil from MODERN FAMILY) on the shoulder and say, “Hey, why don’t you help her out with that laundry or with packing those school lunches as opposed to whining on and on about how you’re not manly enough, douchebag?” At one point he left her to run his son’s birthday party alone in order to buy a more manly gift, and my head nearly exploded — but she didn’t seem to mind, because like so many sitcom wive’s she’s weirdly okay with being long-suffering....

So I never posted a review for HOW TO BE A GENTLEMAN, and that was because it sucked. I mean, sucked to the point that I was happy there were no people of color in it, b/c I didn’t want them involved in this pile-up. Which is too bad, because it had a few people I liked in it, including David Foley, Mary “What’s her name” from 24, and that one British guy from YES MAN, but it was just so awful. Let’s talk about LAST MAN STANDING, the new Tim Allen sitcom instead. Was it any better? Here are my thoughts: Overview: Mike Baxter, a jet-setting, man’s man photographer for the “Outdoor’s Man” catalog is grounded and forced to not only run the company’s website, but also permanently live at home with his three daughters, wife, and baby grandson. What I Liked: To my surprise, a whole lot. I’m a big fan of the current onscreen trend of non-traditional families, and this one is great. The middle daughter is a bit ridiculous, but the oldest daughter is a single mom, and the youngest is an aggressive soccer phenom. I also like that the mom (played by Nancy Travis) isn’t particularly nurturing and drinks a lot. In the second episode, there was a funny gag, involving over-the-top baby-proofing and the wine cabinet and a toddler potty that had me cracking up. Also, the jokes really land, and the ensemble as a whole has great timing. What I Didn’t Like: I thoroughly disagree with most of Mike’s online tirades, and of course they threw in a few gay jokes — though to the show’s credit, his daughter challenges him on at least of one of them. At the end of the day, the whole affair...

FINALLY, a couple of  shows I was looking somewhat forward to watching: NEW GIRL, starring elfin movie-star, Zooey Deschanel, Damon Wayans Jr. (from HAPPY ENDINGS), the other deputy from THE WALKING DEAD, and some random dude I’ve never heard of; and UNFORGETTABLE, a procedural about a cop with a photographic memory — which I’m down for merely because she isn’t a cop pretending to be psychic. Were expectations met? Here are my thoughts. Overview NEW GIRL: After catching her live-in BF with another woman, an emotionally-wrecked Zooey D, moves into a gorgeous apartment with three dudes: 1) A nice-enough guy with douchebag tendencies, 2) A nice guy, also emotionally-wrecked by his break-up, and 3) A nice guy personal trainer who has trouble talking to women — mainly because he’s a walking Lou Gossett Jr. ala Officer and a Gentleman impression. UNFORGETTABLE: Carrie Wells, an ex-cop (Poppy Montgomery) with hyperthymesia (a photographic memory) gets pulled back in to the NYPD when a case pops off in her building and her ex-paramour/partner shows up. Dylan Walsh (Sean from NIP/TUCK) stars as the big ex. What I Liked NEW GIRL: Okay, I don’t want to gush too hard, but Zooey D isn’t faux nerd in this. She’s really effin awkward and has a ton of turrets-like quirks, including making up songs on the spot, a DIRTY DANCING addiction, and quoting LORD OF THE RINGS in every day conversation. She also wears glasses. Yes! I love on her character so hard, I don’t even know what to do. The jokes were also on point, and I love the guy friendships. UNFORGETTABLE: Poppy Montgomery’s hair is really nice. Very pretty. Even better than the poster. What I Didn’t Like NEW GIRL: I hesitate to say this, because it’s some...

I was so disappointed with Fall TV 2010 that I complained about it clear into 2011. But maybe that was unfair, considering that I hadn’t given most of the new Fall TV season a chance. For all I knew a few of the cancelled shows that I never watched might have been the bee’s knees. For example, so many people love then-freshman, now-sophomore, RAISING HOPE — might it had alleviated some of my “no good TV out there” bitterness? Well, this year, I decided to approach the Fall 2011 crop of freshmen scripted TV shows a little differently — by watching every single one of them and reporting back to you. There are a few rules: 1) While I’ll review everything on broadcast, it’s just too hard to keep track of everything coming out on cable. Believe me, I’ll do my best, but some of the cable shows might slip through the cracks. 2) No reality. There’s too much of it, and I’m just not that big on it — the last new reality show I adopted was RUPAUL’S DRAG RACE — and that was back in 2009. 3) I’ll also be giving each show a diversity grade, because you know how I do. I’m just really excited about the prospect of being able to complain about new TV based on experience as opposed to perception. So let’s open this new series up with a report on THE RINGER (CW): Overview Former stripper-addict, Bridget, who witnessed a murder, sends a letter of atonement to her identical twin society-blond sister, Siobhan. (BTW, are addicts really still writing letters? Or is step 9 all about the apologetic email these days?) Anywho, Siobhan, sends her a letter back, saying all is forgiven and inviting her to the...

I’ve talked a lot on this blog about how much I love my name. I love it so much so that I not only kept my last name when I got married, but I also continue to leave a trail of my initials everywhere I write. But this wasn’t always the case. When I was a child, I hated my name. It was strange in a rather awkward way. I was named after my father, yes, but why not Ernesta or Ernestine? Some of my earliest memories involve having to say my name over and over again until whoever I was introducing to myself got it. This usually involved an eventual full-out spelling of it. This wouldn’t have happened, if I’d been named something simple, like say, “Betty,” which is both my mother’s and my daughter’s name. I have a theory that folks with simple names give their firstborn complicated ones, and folks with complicated names go with simple for their first born. In any case, I think that part of the reason I’ve so embraced the current computer age so fully is that it has freed me from the necessity of spelling out my name for strangers. Everything is typed in before I have to deal with customer service reps on the phone, and nametags have become so ubiquitous that I rarely have to cold-introduce myself anymore. What a relief. It had gotten so bad before the computer age, that I had just stopped correcting people when they called me Vanessa. My name had just plain old tuckered me out. So though I wouldn’t change my name now, I do sometimes wonder what I would have named myself if I could have chosen. Lately, I’ve been leaning toward Agnes, an ugly name, with...

If you’ve ever met me IRL, then you probably already know that I’m both. I make jokes all the time, but will often show my appreciation of your joke with a hearty laugh. My sister is also both — really I hail from a family, who in general enjoys both making and laughing at good and bad jokes alike. However, my husband is neither. He’ll occasionally make a joke, but he isn’t in the habit of doing so. And he doesn’t so much laugh at my jokes as play along. Part of the problem is that his work involves maintaining his concentration while listening to all sorts of jokes, so while he might appreciate a good joke, the adjective “uproarious” would never be used for the way he responds to one. A lot of women I know and (perhaps not in-coincidentally) like are laughers, rewarding me with chuckles for my efforts. I’m always happy to meet a fellow joker, but notice that many of them don’t laugh at my jokes in return, either because they’re waiting to tell their own joke in response or because they’re not laughers. I’ve decided to take the “I’m not all that funny” option off the table as it would hurt my feelings. What’s really interesting is that I’ve noticed that IRL joker or laugher status often has absolutely nothing to do with the way writers write. For example many of the serious literary novelists that I’ve met are really quite funny in person. I’ve also met authors who make me laugh out loud while I’m reading, but keep a totally straight-face when they’re talking with me one on one. Quite recently, I decided to read THE SWEET SPOT, a scorching hot novel by Kimberly Kaye Terry, simply because I...

I know that movie studios want my money, and most often I’m perfectly happy to give it to them, especially during the summer when it’s really hot. I also know that I am at a magical age now, a special twenty-year cross-section of age, during which I will be spending money on entertainment for both my child and myself. Because of this studios have been on an unprecedented campaign to not only separate my age group from its money, but also set up my children to eventually be separated from their money though the device of nostalgia. One day my daughter will scream at us, “I learned to overpay for crap remakes of YO GABBA GABBA and NI HAO, KAILIN from watching you, Mom and Dad. I learned it from watching you!” This current incarnation of nostalgia branding has meant the green-lighting of movie versions of all my childhood favorites from the 80s like TRANSFORMERS (which I paid money to see), and ALVIN & THE CHIPMUNKS (which I paid money to see), and THUNDERCATS (which I will be paying money to see), and AUSTIN POWERS 4 — wait, wait, wait … did they say AUSTIN POWERS 4. Oh, yes, they did! Apparently, movie studios have run out of 80s movies and TV shows to re-exploit, and have now started to mine the 90s. If Mickey Rourke could be resuscitated for an aughts comeback, why not do the same with Mike Meyers? I’ll tell you why not in two parts: 1) It’s too soon. It’s easy to pass along a love of singing chipmunks to my daughter, or to appreciate the special effects in THE TRANSFORMERS with my nephews, but what are we going to do with a movie that depends solely on catch-phrases like,...

Blogging over as ScriptShark today, check it out these “New Author Lessons” gleaned while at this year’s NBCC conference in Atlanta : 1. Come for the Whole Conference — Ostensibly, my going to the National Book Club Conference in Atlanta was about meeting and greeting with book clubs and speaking on a panel called the “The Future of Black Books,” so I flew in Friday evening and left Sunday morning. However, I learned so much from the more established authors on the one full day I was there, that I was soon kicking myself for not coming in earlier on Friday. I vowed never again to come to a conference late. Come to network, come to learn, come for the whole she-bang. 2. Research Everyone on Your Panel –Though I think I did a good job speaking on the panel for the most part, at one point I asked if anyone knew of any black YA authors, only to find out that one of my fellow panelists had written several. Total foot in mouth that could have been avoided with a little research. 3. Know What You’re Good At, and Work That Angle — Some of my fellow authors are really good in a room. I, unfortunately, am not as good. However, many authors complimented me on the blog that I run, FierceAndNerdy.com. It struck me that all of us are better at somethings than others. It’s important to evaluate your skill set and use your best ones to further your career — as opposed to developing the ones you don’t have. Being at an IRL conference made me realize that I should 1) put the majority of my efforts into my online platform, and 2) develop a 32 CANDLES play — I know,...

MILD SPOILER ALERT ——————-IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE SEASON PRECEDING THIS CURRENT SEASON OF EUREKA, THEN STOP READING. ALSO, YOU KNOW, RENT OR DOWNLOAD THAT SEASON SO YOU CAN FOLLOW ALONG. I SERIOUSLY ADORE THIS SHOW! I think the best things that has come out of the last two seasons of EUREKA is Henry finally, finally getting a love interest who isn’t a) dead or b) inspiring him to do unethical things. One of the most interesting things about the EUREKA alternative timeline reset is that it imagines lives for our main heroes, that aren’t devoid of the big hurts they experienced in their original timeline. No, these two seasons of EUREKA asks, what would have happened if our characters responded differently to those big hurts. For example, Dr. Allison Blake, is no longer the head of Eureka’s main company, GD, but we found out recently that she did end up writing the book she never made time for in her original timeline. And most happily, instead of obsessing over his wife’s death, Henry moved on to marry a fellow scientist, named Grace, who is 1) black, 2) witty, 3) not a stick, 4) brilliant, and 5) happy. Sadly, I’m trying to remember the last time I saw a black woman portrayed as all five of these things, and I’m seriously drawing a blank. In any case, she’s written and acted as such, that it’s easy to see why an initially resistant Henry would fall in love with her all over again, even though he doesn’t remember doing so the first time. This couple not only has amazing chemistry, but they’re also very sweet together. I like them so very much that I find myself wishing that the writers would just ignore them. I’m...

Ever since traveling to France in April 2010, I’ve been on the lookout for the perfect macaron. What’s funny is that I had never eaten a macaron before discovering this somewhat expensive (but delightfully worth it!) confection, yet, somehow, my standards for the American versions have become ridiculously outsized. So far, every macaron I’ve tried stateside, even the ones that have come highly recommended by foodie websites and magazines, just don’t measure up. They have all tasted just a little bit too much like imitations of the real thing. When I bite into a salted caramel macaron here, it doesn’t feel like I’m biting into a lovely piece of emotion as it did when I bit into a salted caramel macaron in France. And having bitten into my fair share of macarons since my return to the states, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I won’t be able to find a perfect, or even decent, macaron here. Maybe there’s just something about this foodstuff that reduces it to a cardboard shadow of itself outside of its home country. Of course this all got me to thinking about foods that thrive outside their home countries and foods that do not. Spaghetti tastes great everywhere, in my opinion, but somehow, macarons just don’t make the transition. There’s a reason, I’ve decided, that it took this long for America to embrace these sweets even a little bit. But let’s get your opinions. What other foods do you think just don’t taste that great outside of their country of origin? Sound off in the comments. featured image credit: Julien...

I wasn’t surprised to read this Gawker story about Philadelphia imposing citations for texting while walking. I was more surprise that it turned out not to be true. In either case, I used to be so guilty of this, and only recently (after reading or hearing — I can’t remember which — some report about a record number of people ending up in the ER because of texting while walking) did I start forcing myself to stop walking before I texted or emailed. This is pretty significant for me, considering that I’m mainly a walker these days. But I’m also a person sharing the sidewalks with other people, and I don’t want to land myself or someone else in the hospital, because I’m too busy texting or returning an email to pay attention. What’s funny is that this new policy has actually been better for my communications, because now I don’t split my attention between walking and texting. I stop and give my full attention to the text or email that I’m sending, then I give my full attention to getting where I’m going. Win-win. But how about you? Do you walk and text? And do you think that cities should start giving out citations for doing so? Sound off in the comments! featured image credit:...

Hey-O, Super-quick reminder to enter to win a $25 gift card and a very limited edition 32 CANDLES tote HERE. Meanwhile, here’s a very important post on a seriously controversial topic that would still be in our top five if I hadn’t disabled its ability to do so. The poll is still open, so feel free to vote to vote below. Originally published 03/23/11 Okay, an argument broke out in the comments on my Gwyneth Paltrow post yesterday in regards to a very important question: Was Jude Law hot in THE HOLIDAY? I argue that no, he was not hot. As a matter fact he was ridiculous, seeing as how his over-application of self-tanner turned him into a completely unheard of creature: a tan, blond Englishman. I might have forgiven his appearance if the film had been called THE SUMMER HOLIDAY, and were perhaps set in Greece. But no the film was about a holiday taken during the holidays, and in Jude’s case was set against the snow-laden background of a quaint British town in winter, I’m afraid that the heretofore attractive, Jude Law, came off looking both vain and orange. Reads4Pleasure, however begs to differ. She insist that he is quote-unquote fine in this movie. Seeing as I am right in most things, I already know that she is wrong. But I’ve decided to put it to you, Dear Reader. The question you must settle definitively: Is Jude Law hot or ridiculous in THE HOLIDAY? Click HERE to watch him in THE HOLIDAY, where he’s somehow tanner than his California-based co-star, Cameron Diaz. Then vote in the poll below. [poll...

Well, let’s see here, it’s the 23rd week of the year, and this is only my 19th book report. What’s sad is that I’ve been reading like a big dog all year and have a lot of books in my already-read pile, I’ve just been not-so-great at reporting back on the books I’ve read. Luckily, we have BOOK WEEK coming up from June 20-24th, so do come back then for a completely bookalicious week, including 5 book reports in a row from yours truly. But enough about that, here are my thoughts on FEED by M.T. Anderson. Why Did I Decide to Read It: This was yet another suggestion from my writing exchange partner, Gudrun Cram-Drach. She knows I love books with well-rendered future worlds, and she thought this would be right up my alley. What’s It About: We follow our main character, a popular teen named Titus, living in a future in which “television and computers are connected directly into people’s brains when they are babies” — this biogenic device is simply called “the feed.” He’s pretty happy being a thoughtless consumer, until he falls for a homeschooled girl named Violet, who actually thinks for herself. What Makes it Different: Dystopian YA is so in right now. And the back cover description insist that this novel is a satire. However,  FEED feels neither dystopian or satiric, rather like it could really happen, and that this is where our future is headed. Also, I didn’t realize how weird it was that most nearish-future novels didn’t include parents who say “Dude” and “like” until I got the mild shock of meeting our main character’s parents — who talk exactly like me. Dude! What I Loved: This is an extremely readable novel. Just the imagined world...

On Monday I decided to start keeping every promise I made from now on. I decided this, because I’ve been overextending myself as of late and I figured that actually having to follow through with everything I promised to do would be a great way to break myself of that habit. Also, I’m a huge fan of folks who do what they say they’re going to do when they say they’re going to do it. I would very much like to join their ranks. Then I proceeded to have a not-so-great Tuesday, leaving over so little time that I now don’t have time to write my W!IW! blogumn. Yet, it feels good to say I can’t do this, because I’m going to do that. I’m a bit ashamed that it’s taken me until my almost-mid-thirties to commit to my word this way. But how about you? How are you with promises? Do you try to keep them? Flake out more than you like? Do you consider your word your bond? Sound off in the comments! In any case, if I make you a promise from now on in, I expect you to hold me to it. And if I try to wiggle out of it, remind me that I wrote this. featured image credit:...

You know those reports you’ve been reading, about how people are just despondent that OPRAH is going off the air? I’m one of those people. And what’s funny is that I no longer watch the show. In fact, I haven’t watched it regularly since the 90s. Still I couldn’t be sadder that it’s coming to an end. I’ve been racking my brain all week, trying to think of an appropriate tribute to Oprah. What do you say about a touchstone, someone who you’ve never met but have looked up to near about your entire life? I wouldn’t want to say that she inspired me, because she’s inspired just about everyone. I don’t want to say, “I love Oprah, because at the end of the day, she’s a black woman who outearned and outshined darn near everybody in a country that is constantly telling black women that they can’t achieve squat.” That’s pretty much what every other black woman is saying. And that still doesn’t get at my deep down sadness about her retirement from network tv. Here’s a list of things I love about Oprah: I love that Oprah isn’t pretty, but is exceedingly gorgeous. I love that Oprah is an extrovert and somehow seems to be genuinely interested in everyone she meets. I love that Oprah appreciates the thrill of a surprise. I love that when Oprah beat out all her original competition, she set out to beat herself. Most of all, I love that Oprah has always been there. I tear up just thinking about how when I was in China, Oprah came on there every weekday, too, just like she did over here. It’s hard to explain the nature of living abroad, of wanting to adventure, but missing home like a...

For a while it felt like A VISIT FROM THE GOON SQUAD was stalking me. My writing exchange partner, Gudrun Cram-Drach, kept on referencing it in different emails and comments before just flat out saying I should read it. Then I had brunch with Ryan Dixon, and he mentioned that someone who we both think has good taste loved it, so I told him I’d download the audiobook. No, I had to read it, he insisted, because he had heard that to understand its greatness the book had to be physically read. Then it kept winning just about every award out there, so I went on ahead and downloaded the ebook while I was on bedrest for IVF. Here are my thoughts: What’s It About: This is one of those books that is insanely hard to summarize. It doesn’t help that I downloaded the e-book w/o reading the product description. Here’s the best I can do: Interlocking stories surrounding a group of connected people. It’s kind of like the idea of six degrees of separation — but in novel form and with really effed up people. What Makes It Different: There aren’t very many novels out there that can’t be summed up in a few sentences or even tagged as a particular genre. GOON SQUAD is one of those novels that gets away with just about every thing writers are told we can’t get away with, including telling not showing, mercilessly playing with time, and making the reader read closely. If you try to skim through any part of this book, you’ll have to go back or be really confused. What I Loved: GOON SQUAD certainly lives up to its hype. Its a tour-de-force of truly original writing and situations. Also, I didn’t know...

So we’re taking a trip to Las Vegas, b/c long story short: my GIL and Aunt-in-law were living there, we booked a hotel, but then they moved back to California, but we still have to go, b/c we’ve already booked a hotel. However, now that we’ve no one to visit, we have no idea what to do in Las Vegas with a toddler. Any ideas? Let me know in the comments. featured image credit: Thomas...

My friend Kalimba showed up to the co-ed wedding shower that she, another friend, and I were throwing for our friend, Delia in a fabulous dress. “I love your dress,” I told her before I had even hugged her hello. “Thanks,” she said. “I wore it to your wedding.” And a memory of a younger me dressed in a fabulous rented Badgley Mischka wedding gown but complimenting her on her dress came back to me. Back then I had been a little more rock and roll and had shopped at Urban Outfitters. Now I recognized her dress as having coming from my favorite store as of two years ago, Anthropologie. “Is that an Anthropologie dress?” I asked her. And she confirmed that it was. As we prepared for the coming onslaught of party guests, I followed the dress around lustfully, and for the first time in many months, I wished I was skinnier than I currently was. In fact I said to her, “If you weren’t so skinny, I’d rip that dress right off your body.” Later on, I’d say something else that would illicit from her this observation. “You always choose the most extreme language.” This is true, and I backed up her observation with a story about how I’d found myself walking home from Starbucks the previous Friday without the benefit of my iPhone, and how in the quiet the title of my third book, which I’m rough drafting now, had come to me: THE MOST AMAZING LOVE THE UNIVERSE HAS EVER KNOWN. She laughed, but acquiesced that she loved the title. But back to the dress: “It’s so funny that you like it so much,” she said. “You know this is only the second time I’ve ever worn it because it’s...

So we’re rolling out the retooled 32 CANDLES website next week, and I’m currently putting together a marketing plan for the paperback, which we’ll need to sell in the manner of hotcakes, so that I can get another book deal and continue to justify paying someone to take care of my daughter while I write for a few hours every weekday at Starbucks. But in order to sling more paperbacks, I need your help. It’s pretty simple, please answer the following questions. 1. How did you hear about 32 CANDLES? 2. Why did you buy or borrow 32 CANDLES? 3. Where did you buy or borrow 32 CANDLES from? 4. In what format did you read it: physical book, e-book, or audiobook? 5. If you recommended the book to others, how did you do so: Twitter, Facebook, Email, phone, or In-Person? Thanks...

Hello Darlings, I’m interrupting my normal belly-gazing schedule  to tell you Los Angeles memoirists and non-fiction writers that there’s something your project is missing —  fiction. To that end, I’m teaching a STRANGER THAN FICTION class this Saturday, April 23rd at Writing Pad in Downtown Los Angeles, and there’s only a couple of spots left. Click on the card below to reserve your spot. Cheers! etc featured image credit:...

So a lot of people ask me how I avoid the pits of procrastination. Well, here are all of my current trade secrets. 1. I use StayFocused. Now back before we moved, CH came up with the idea of turning off my internet when he left for work. Though, I got more writing work done, I found that my email response time suffered and that I often had to take copious notes about stuff I would have to later on remember to do when I had internet. This situation soon became irritating and untenable, so when we moved I tried to hang on to my internet. Big mistake. I soon once again found myself frittering away too much of my writing sessions on Facebook and other timesucks. Then CH sent me a link to a Google Chrome app/extension called StayFocused. Basically this program kicks you off certain pages at certain times of the day. So while I can return emails during my writing time, I can’t go on Facebook or Twitter or even Fierce and Nerdy, I can email my writing exchange partner pages and look up the name of that one street where that one thing happens in my book, but I can’t clean out my Google Reader (a favorite procrastination activity). The secret, I think, was letting CH do all of the set up and making it really hard to get to any other browser but Google Chrome — which is the only one StayFocused works with. That way if I want to undo my StayFocused settings, I have to go through my disapproving husband. And if I really want to get on Facebook, I have to go through a lot of procrastination-killing rigamarole to get to another browser. 2. I “go...

I really loved this “Dispelling Ten Myths About Introverts” list at Shrinking Violet Promotions. As someone who struggles with her own offline introversion, I really related to most of the mythbusters. However, though, the posts attempts to completely separate introversion from the myths about introversion I have to say that in my case, at least, it’s a bit more complicated than that. Let’s go down their list in bold with my comments in not-bold: 1. We are not all shy. This was actually a great way to phrase that myth. Because while there are unshy introverts. There are also many shy ones. 2. We are not anti-social. Actually, I am. To be more specific, I like to be social at specific times and places. Like at events and parties and get-togethers with friends. If you asked my Starbucks baristas about me, however, or the person who sits next to me on a plane, they would not describe me as social. I don’t initiate small talk. I walk through life with headphones stuck in my ears so that I won’t have to talk to people I don’t know. I’m not a big fan of chit-chat with random strangers. When people try to engage me in chit-chat, I answer in such a way that doesn’t invite any further chit-chat. I am indeed anti-social at times. 3. Introversion is not a mental illness. Agreed. Of course, it isn’t. 4. We don’t not like people. Agreed. In fact I adore people … that I know. I often say that the reason I’ve come off as an extrovert in the past is that I’m desperate to get to know the new people I meet at parties and other events, so intense is my dislike for talking to strangers. 5. We...

I’m often asked how I come up with new material for my daily blog posts. I can’t tell you how many emails I’ve gotten from FaN bloggers saying, “I have no idea what to write about this week. I don’t know how you do it.” I’ll admit that for maybe the first year and a half of running Fierce and Nerdy, I would occasionally run into a wall, feeling like there was nothing left to say. The truth is that sometimes I kill myself over blog post and it not only doesn’t get any comments, but when I go to our stat counter, I can see that it barely made a blip on the radar. But then again, sometimes I kill myself over a post, and it gets a huge amounts of hits. Sometimes I dash off a trifle of a blog, and no one pays attention to it. But then sometimes I dash off a blog, and it becomes a huge hit. I’m still a little peeved my write up on when I should take my daughter to Disney Land which took me less than 15 minutes to write received more comments than any other post I wrote in 2010. So my takeaway from all of this is that if it occurs to me to write about something, then I should just go ahead and write about it, b/c there is absolutely no way to predict what will be a hit post and what will not. But back to how to come up with material every day. Here’s my method; it’s really simple: I keep a running list of blog topics on my iPhone. That’s it. Every time I have a thought that engages me for more than a second or two I write it...

After reading this wonderful post by Emily Hauser about how hard it is to squeeze in time for reading after motherhood, I got to thinking about the THE POISONWOOD BIBLE by Barbara Kingsolver. TPB is Barbara Kingsolver’s bestselling book to date. It got all kinds of critical raves. People who I really respect LOVED this book. I myself had read every single book that Barbara Kingsolver wrote before TBC. I adore her writing style and her stories have stayed with me throughout the years. As soon as I heard about this book, I ordered it from my local library and picked it up the same day I got the notice that it had arrived. And then for some reason, I didn’t read it. Eventually I had to return it. And I thought to myself that I would get it when it came out in paperback and I had a little more time to read it. But then it came out in paperback, and though I’ve found myself a few times with “nothing to read” since then — I never picked this book up while scouring bookstores for something — anything to read. And the thing is that I just know hat I will love the book. Kingsolver tends to be both funny and thoughtful, engaging me in important social issues without making me feel like I’m listening to a sermon. So why haven’t I read this book yet? I have no idea. But here’s me promising that it will come off my TBR by the end of this year. So now I’m wondering if anyone else has a book like this. A book they should have read by now, but for whatever reason, still haven’t. I’m also interested in hearing from people who took...

“You look like you’re from New York!” a saleslady said to me as I walked home on Monday in yellow sweatshirt, covered by my flowered blazer and on top of my head, my hat with fur-lined floppy ears, from which white earphones blasting rap music streamed out. I have recently committed to at least wearing jeans with my usual writing ensemble, so yes, dressed as I was for 60 degree weather (I chill easily) I suppose that I did look like a New Yorker. This isn’t the first time that I’ve been told this. Actually it’s the third time I’ve been told this in 2011 alone. “You look like a New Yorker,” my friend Kalimba told me when I donned my hat and blazer ensemble to leave her post play, after drinks and pizza get to together. “You make me feel like a bad New Yorker with that hat,” Dr. Miro told me the last time we met up for brunch while she was visiting L.A. Even before this particular hat and blazer, people would ask me if I had grown up in L.A., I would answer that I grew up in St. Louis, but moved here from the East Coast and they would often say, “From where? New York?” And I’d answer, “No, Pittsburgh.” And then there’d be some surprised fumbling before we found another topic of conversation. What’s funny is that when I did live on the East Coast, people always thought I was from someplace in West Africa, or that my parents were African. And then I’d have to say something like, “No, I’m American. Really American. Great-great-great-great parents on down.” But now this has me wondering. Do you often get mistaken for being from someplace you’re not? And does it change...

I recently had brunch with a friend who’s a doctor, her boyfriend, who is also a doctor, and a couple of their mutual friends, who are also doctors. The four spent much of that brunch fielding medical questions from the rest of us at the table. So when I saw these stethoscope headphones, they immediately struck me as dumb. Who would want a pair of headphones that made you look like you knew something about medicine? I imagine the wearers would immediately be pummeled with medical questions whenever they went out in public, and would soon stop wearing them, so as not to get harassed. Soon after seeing that LikeCool post, I read a Seth Godin post about the $300 Dr. Dre headphones (pictured). Unlike a lot of people who might gasp at that price tag, I didn’t find it egregious, because I couldn’t see myself paying $300 for headphones or earphone, I found it egregious because headphones — and especially earphones — keep on getting more expensive without adding the features I truly want. I wear earphones every single day. I wear them while I’m writing, while I’m walking, while I’m exercising, and while I’m cleaning. If an audiobook is particularly good, I will stick an earbud in one ear and listen to the book, while I’m driving. I’m fairly sure that I’m losing my hearing because of earphone abuse. This is all to prove that I’m what you might call a earphone expert. This is what would make me spend $300 dollars on a set of earphones, and I think that quite a few other earphone abusers would agree with me. 1. Design-wise, just a simple pair of iPhone level earbuds will do. I don’t need them to have special bud covers...

So the other day I was in the shower, and “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. came on. It was almost like I heard a time machine sound effect, because the next thing I knew, I was a college student again, attending a BSA party at Smith, riding in the passenger seat of my best friend’s car as we sang along with the chorus– this was the spring break after both he and my mother died. I could see my own hands unwrapping the double CD and playing that track first before I would listen to anything else on the album. I could see it all so clearly, and I would have been surprised, except that’s what happens every single time I hear “Hypnotize” on the radio. If that song comes on, I am immediately transported back to 1997. It’s the equivalent of releasing a memory bomb inside my brain. Do you have any songs like that? Songs that bring on a rush of memories from a certain year every time they come on the radio? Sound off in the...

Two weeks ago I somehow managed to do what I’ve been avoiding doing for over 10 years now: forgetting that I had my iPhone in my back pocket when I went to use the bathroom. So after fishing my smartphone out of the toilet (a pretty icky endeavor which made me rethink our environmentalist stance of only flushing when we go #2), I turned it on to see if it was still working. Later on I would find out that this is the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to do when your phone gets wet for the simple reason that electricity + water = short-circuit — and not the cute movie-about-a-robot kind. So just in case this happens to you, don’t be me. Do this instead. 1. Fish your phone out of toilet 2. DON’T push any buttons!!! 3. Dry it off with a towel. 4. Put the iPhone in a bag of rice to dry it out — if you’re like me and don’t want to taint your entire bag of rice with a urine-covered iPhone, then pour a generous amount into a ziplock bag and put the phone in that. 5. Set bag in window and then wait two days before turning it back on. Now if you, unlike me, were lucky enough to have read this before you stupidly turned your iPhone on to see if it was still working after you dropped it in the toilet, then your iPhone will probably be fine — though you yourself might not be after 48 hours of iPhone withdrawal, which is the exact same in my opinion as heroin withdrawal. But if you did turn it on like I did, then your screen might have gone black. Basically everybody’s home but the...

To tell you the truth, I only became a fan of football less than 10 years ago. I think this is because I’ve always found it incredibly hard to follow what’s going on and find myself having to ask lots of questions to keep up. But it’s also because I didn’t grow up with a team. The Cardinals left St. Louis when I was just a kid, and “Good riddance” according to all the men in my family. The Rams moved to St. Louis shortly before I left for college. And they didn’t go to the Super Bowl until I was abroad in Japan. Not until I moved to Pittsburgh (for what I thought would be a couple of months, but for what turned out to be over three years) did I discover the beauty of living in a sports town. The only thing that cut across the intense gray shadow that is a Pittsburgh winter were the black and gold signs that sprouted up all over town and the ebullience that took the city over whenever the Steelers even hinted that they might make it to the Super Bowl. “Go Stillers” people called to me upon meeting and departing, like Hawaiians say “Aloha!” What’s funny is I became a fan even before they started winning again, getting my hopes up every year, only to have them crushed in the playoffs. But then a miracle happened. Less than two years after I moved from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles, the Steelers won. Then they won AGAIN two years later. And now, two years later, they’re in the Super Bowl again. To my great surprise, I find that I cheer for my one true team in the same manner as my father. Yelling at the TV...

Sorry, sorry. Know I promised that T.E.’s blogumn, DIY NERD, would debut in this space today, but we’ve got to learn to do an audio edit right quick before it can. So now I’m forced to say come back next week for that. But this might be a good thing, since I wanted to get in one last IVF update before I go in for my big frozen embryo transfer on Friday. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that things seem way more confusing this time. Last time, I had spent over a year trying to get pregnant: ovulation tracking, fertility tests, blood draws, failed IUIs, lots and lots of drugs with random side effects — I was trained up and ready to go. Also, I didn’t yet have a child, so if need be, both my husband and I could drop everything to get things done when they had to get done. Doing a frozen embryo transfer, is like saying, “Remember all that stuff you did two years ago? Do the last thirty days of it with no training, a second book to finish, and no husband to back you up (because he’s babysitting) — now! Now dropping everything, means dropping your baby, and you don’t want to drop your baby — she’s precious. So appointments that CH came with me to last time, he now spends at home with Betty. I find myself yo-yoing between extreme gratitude (yay we live in a time with IVF, yay we can afford IVF, yay I can hopefully squeeze this last baby out before going into promotional efforts for the next book –how convenient!), and mild resentment. IVF takes up so much time, it’s so invasive [there is no such thing as an appointment where...

I’ve grown out of the habit of reading child-rearing books, but as Betty gets older, I feel like there are a lot of books that I would just love to read, but I’m not seeing including … 1. The Art of Self: Teaching Your Kid How To Be Happy Being Herself. I really want Betty to be herself. And more than that, I want Betty to want to be herself. I love kids that represent for themselves, but how does one teach that? I had a hard time learning this one my own dang self. 2. Hey Big Talker: Speaking Skills for an Articulate Future. As someone who really has to struggle not to stutter too much and to speak in coherent sentences, I find it annoying that only stutterers and young actors are given elocution lessons these days. Really shouldn’t there be a ton of books on how to raise an articulate kid? Good elocution will only improve your child’s life, no matter s/he decides to do. 3. I Don’t Care What You Think: Being Okay With Not Being Liked. One of the best things that happened to me growing up was not being liked. It taught me how to be okay with being strange, and it allowed me to go after what I wanted, without the crippling need for approval. Of course we live in a country that is bent on getting you to seek out other’s approval, so that you’ll buy more makeup, clothes, and other crap that you don’t need. Women, especially are at a disadvantage under this system. We often spend money we should be saving on clothes and other non-essentials. For example, I always thought I couldn’t afford art classes, but when I saw the pile of clothes...

So just in case any of you were thinking of taking a cruise with your toddler, I compiled the following list of random advice while I was on our very first cruise as a family: 1. If your toddler has a security blanket, buy an extra one for her to drag around the ship and especially for port days. 2. Bring lots of capri pants and dress bottoms. We only brought one set of capri pants, not knowing that we’d find tons of cute Mexican dresses for Betty. She ended up wearing those capri pants with everything, and we wished we had thought to bring more. 3. Most cruise ships only have showers, which your baby will probably hate. Be prepared to come up with a new nighttime routine. After two shower tantrums (more traumatizing for us than Betty), we put a YO GABBA GABBA video on the iPad and gave Betty a soapy washcloth rubdown while she enjoyed her show. 4. Make a babysitting schedule that allows both you and your partner an hour or two of alone time every day. On sea days, CH took Betty in the early mornings, then I took her in the late afternoons, which gave us each some time on our own to do what we wanted. I exclusively used this time to read while CH took photographs and explored the ship. Either way, we both got to relax and felt like we got a true vacation. 5. Don’t necessarily expect to take advantage of dining in the fancy dining room. It ‘s an hour-long three-course meal, and your kid is probably used to getting out of the high chair as soon a she clears her plate. It took us seven whole days to finally come up...

Hmm, so when’s the last time I reviewed something for you that you could score absolutely free and in an instant?. Sadly, it’s been a while. I think the last time was back in June, when I told you to read webcomic-turned-printed-book, BAYOU, quick like a bunny. Well, just in time for those looking for a way in to the literary graphic novel world, here are my thoughts on DICEBOX, a 289-page webcomic by Jenn Manley Lee. Why I Decided To Read It: Well, i09 gave this webcomic a pretty fantastic review. And i09, unlike a lot of other nerd sites, gave WHO FEARS DEATH by Nnedi Okorafor and THE HUNDRED THOUSAND KINGDOMS by N.K. Jemisin the love they deserved, so I’m all about taking recommendations from i09. What It’s About: If you’re a fan of one of my favorite graphic novel series of all time, STRANGERS IN PARADISE, then this is kind of like that if STRANGERS IN PARADISE was set in the future, and about to migrant workers, and involved a black woman who’s very comfortable with her sexuality, and if Katchoo had looked like David Bowie as opposed to like Katchoo. Okay, on second thought, this is nothing like STRANGERS IN PARADISE. But if you liked STRANGERS IN PARADISE, you will absolutely love DICEBOX. What Makes It Different: I cannot stress enough how awesome and wonderfully complex the black main character, Molly is in this. She reminds me of a thick-waisted Shug Avery — if Shug Avery had really scary Cassandra-like visions. What I Loved: You know how you often read stuff about the future and it’s full of slick gadgets and totalitarian governments and alien enemies, but somehow the interpersonal relationships remain the same as the interpersonal relationships found in...

I’m going to have to double-up if I want to meet my 52 books by the end of the year goal. So look for at least two of these book reports a week until the end of the year. Yay! First up this week, the graphic novel AYA by Marguerite Abouet & Clement Oubrerie. Why I Decided To Read It: Well, my super-awesome writing exchange partner Gudrun strongly suggested it. And Gudrun and I pretty much read whatever the other suggests. What’s It About and What Makes It Different: What if I told you that there is actually a story about Africa, in which no one dies, and nothing horrible happens? We just get to read the tale of three young adult girls living, loving, and learning in a 1970s era Ivory Coast town. What if I used the words “smart, gentle comedy” to describe this story? AND what if I tell you … wait for it … that it’s currently being made into a movie (with our own Gudrun Cram-Drach on the animation team)? You’re mind just got totally blown, didn’t it? You didn’t know such a thing was possible. Neither did I, dudes. Neither did I. What I Loved: Seriously, what didn’t I love? The writing (by my new hero, Marguerite Abouet) is TIGHT. The artwork (by Clement Oubrerie) is PHENOMENAL. The story was so well-told, like Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen had an African love child. I don’t want to ruin anything for you, so I’ll just leave off with saying that this is the African story I had been longing for — nay whining for! And you are so lucky if you haven’t read it already, because you are in for a delightful, delightful treat. What I Didn’t Like: The...

A lot of you might question my continued love of a trilogy which I’ve only seen three times. If you’re not familiar with the Star Wars fanverse, that’s the equivalent of confessing that you’re completely in love with a person that you’ve only glimpsed once from afar. Most Star Wars Fans can’t count how many times they’ve seen the original trilogy and these fans, would say that I’m not a “true fan,” b/c I not only did I only watch each movie in the original trilogy 2-3 times a piece, but I also haven’t seen the original trilogy since my childhood. Yes, I’m actually admitting to not having rewatched Star Wars since I stopped rewatching movies when I was 18. It’s been over 20 years since I’ve seen Episodes IV, V, or VI. Yet, I love the original trilogy. Why? Two words: deep nostalgia. As I’ve mentioned here before, I grew up with a nerd mom, back when a lot of people didn’t have nerd moms. She was an accountant — and she really liked working with numbers. She wore big glasses, and her one attempt at contacts went so badly that she gave up on them after a week and never tried them again, even after soft contacts came out. She was weirdly unfashionable. She had several environmental and food allergies. She got me a generic Transformer for my birthday one year. She loved Star Trek, Dark Shadows, and Dr. Who. She adored books — allowing my sister and me to read whatever we wanted with the belief that if we were old enough to pick it out at the library, then we were old enough to read it. And she really, really, really loved movies. A lot of movies that other people...

Back when I was writing plays, I used to come down with the worst case of post-show depression. You’re working, working, working and then suddenly you’re … not. I’d feel adrift and sad that the show had come to an end. And when I say I’d get depressed, I mean crying in the car on the way to my dead-end job depressed. Complaining about it to friends and family alike. Wallowing in episode after episode of THE WIRE and thinking that the world just wasn’t a very good place depressed. Well, my book tour just ended for good on Monday. I’m no longer traveling to glamorous cities, meeting loads of new people, or reconnecting with friends I haven’t seen in ages. And I’m not depressed. Why not? Well a few years ago I struck upon the perfect solution for the post-project blues: Simply, begin another project. I launched Fierce and Nerdy just as I was finishing up the copy edits on 32 CANDLES. And now that I’m thisclose to being done with the beta draft of THE AWESOME GIRLS GUIDE TO DATING EXTRAORDINARY MEN and my book tour, we’re moving house. And then we’re taking a vacation. And then we’re starting work on a second baby. To the outside world, this may look a little insane. Why schedule so many big projects so close together? But you know what? I don’t get post-project blues anymore. So if you’re currently doing something like NaNoWriMo or some other big endeavor, I suggest that you schedule something super-big for December 1st. Begin a new novel. Take on a project you’ve been meaning to tackle for a while now. Volunteer somewhere. But whatever you do, don’t take that time to “rest.” Resting, as tempting as it sounds, will...

Ugh, why am I blanking on the name of this song? Back in the day — like the 90s I think, there was a rap song about New York and it mentioned all the boroughs and from what I heard, seemed to be playing every single place anyone went in New York for like a year or two. It was the “Empire State of Mind” of the late 90s, but I can’t remember the name of the song, just that it had a Steely Dan sample as the hook. Or was a Doobie Brothers sample? Anywho, I know I promised you a review of the new XBOX 360 Kinect, but I must have been smoking crack when I promised that, b/c when do I ever have time to write a big blog on a travel day? Look for that review blogumn NEXT Wednesday. And if you know the name of the song, please, please, please leave it in the comments. More importantly, if you live in or near Brooklyn, I would so love to see you at this next event. I’m planning to get pregnant again come January, so this is the last time I’ll be hitting NYC for quite a while — like til 2012 awhile … unless something truly awesome comes up before then… in which case, I’ll um come back before 2012 — just click on the pic for more info,...

My dear Aunt Almeda passed away last Thursday in Harlem, and I happened to be in NYC for the hugely successful Circle of Sisters Book Club this past weeked. So on Sunday before meeting up with some Smithie friends for the FELA! matinee, I woke up early and took the subway to Harlem. My cousin, who Aunt Almeda’s lived with until her end wasn’t living in Harlem during the one summer I interned at Scholastic Books back in 1998, so though, I’ve always meant to make it up there, this would actually be my first time in the legendary borough. At that time, I didn’t know that when I got home, Betty would come down with a terrible cold, which would prevent me from boarding a plane with her to attend the funeral in St. Louis tomorrow. And somehow it felt like I was making the then-extra trip to Harlem as an ambassador of the Dead Mothers Club. To my great relief, there was more fellowship than tears, though I did find myself wondering not for the first time if it’s better to lose your mother slowly and terribly (which is how they lost their mother) or suddenly and terribly (which is how I lost my mother). As it turned out, I had something in common with the title character of the bio-musical, FELA! The whole play takes place in the aftermath of a raid on Fela Kuti’s compound, which resulted in his mother being pushed out a window and dying suddenly and terribly from her injuries. This throws Fela into a crisis of political faith that inspires the show’s main dramatic question, “Will Fela leave Nigeria?” The ghost of Fela’s mother is a main character in the show, and a few things about...

So a fellow blogger and an all-around terrific person asked me for advice about my writing schedule the other day, and my answer ended up being really long, so I figured I’d republish here, b/c yes, I generally have a policy that if I write anything over 300 words, even if it’s for ostensibly altruistic reasons, then yes I have to repurpose it as a blog. Hey, ya’ll bloggin’ ain’t easy and I’m really pressed for time this week. But hopefully this helps other would-be writing mamas: In short here’s how I got to my current level of writing: First of all, it takes a while to build writing discipline. When I got serious about my writing practice, I started by writing 20 minutes every day for 21 days. Then I wrote for 40 minutes every day for 21 days. Then I wrote for 80 minutes every day for 21 days. Then I started writing for 3 hours every weekday and using the weekends to preset my blog and you know … spend time with the family. It was just my husband and me when I started my practice. But I found that by making a big announcement of my intentions to him and my writing exchange partner that I got all the support that I needed. And I especially find this true now that I have a full-on family. Now, I call 7am-10AM my “business hours” and 2PM-5PM my “writing hours.” My family knows that I’m off-limits during these hours. These are my work hours, just like my husband has his work hours. I’ve met a lot of writing mothers, and most of us have one skill in common: the ability to separate family and writing. Basically you have to learn to be...

So my productivity levels have not quite been where I need them to be as of late. My To Do list has been in serious backlog since last week, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why. I tried getting up really early one day, that only necessitated a momentum-killing nap later in the day. I don’t watch much TV before 9pm anymore, just PRICE IS RIGHT in the morning and DAYS OF OUR LIVES in the afternoon. But just in case, I cut down to the last half hour of PIR and skipped DOOL all together — though really is there any reason to work from home if you can’t enjoy at least one soap? Methinks not! Still for the sake of finally getting my to do list to done I sacrificed DOOL for two days straight. No go. I was still staring down at least 10 items left to do at the end of each night. This was very upsetting. I have childcare and I had thought that I had organized my life in such a way that allowed me to get things done. So, completely stymied, I outsourced the problem to my husband. Maybe it’s that I don’t have enough time to get everything done, I suggested. Maybe it’s because I really do have ADHD, even though the Wall Street Journal told me that I didn’t earlier this year. He answered that there was one culprit I hadn’t considered: The Internet. Maybe he said, you need to use it less. Now you know how people in Overeaters Anonymous always say that it’s hard to conquer their addiction, b/c you need food to survive. Well, I don’t feel that way about food, but I do feel that way about...

I’ve been in a celebratory mood for a reason, which might strike some as odd. I got on the scale a few days ago and discovered that I’m now at the highest weight I’ve ever been … before getting pregnant. That’s simply to say that I’ve finally reached a weight that I’ve been at before. I’m 10 pounds from my original end-of-the- year goal and 20 pounds away from my wedding weight, which is what I hope to reach before getting pregnant a second time. I am at once happy that I’ve made such progress and stunned that I had never been more than 20 pounds beyond my ideal size before getting pregnant — why didn’t I appreciate that more back in the day? I still can’t fit into my pre-maternity wardrobe, but I will by this time next month. Dubious achievements. Anywho, here’s  a picture of my new(ish) god daughter, Zora, and the new(ish)...

I saw this post cited on a few other blogs. Basically it states that author’s schilling their own work is more annoying than effective. I have no doubt that my sales would have been diminished if I hadn’t put as much marketing effort into 32 CANDLES as I did. Also, I think marketing is a good thing, in that it gives authors something to DO, as opposed to simply wringing their hands and worrying about their sales numbers. Constantly marketing is better than constantly worrying about your numbers. Some argue that marketing is outside of most writers’ skill sets and therefore something we shouldn’t have to do. I would argue back that anyone who wants anyone to buy something that he or she has made should make acquiring a marketing skill set a priority. Most actors don’t complain about having to do interviews to get the word out about their movies. Most businesses don’t complain about having to advertise their product, I’m not quite sure why so many authors complain about having to promote themselves. Literature is a consumer-based business, why should authors be exempt from having to help get the word out about something they want consumers to buy? That all said, I do agree that it can’t all be self-promotion. There are certain authors who do nothing but promote their own work. Reading a blog or twitter-feed that only lists the author’s interviews, appearances, and accolades is not worth reading. In cases like these, I think it’s better for the author to throw up a website and go about writing the next book as opposed to purely schilling one’s own book(s) online. As with most endeavors, it’s important to strike a balance. If you start a blog, don’t just talk about your...

Just as I thought that my grief over Tulip’s death would keep me from my novel indefinitely, this interview that I did the FLY blog posted, and I was reminded that don’t believe in writer’s block. In my practice, there is only writing and not writing. And your reasons for not writing are never ever valid. Ever. As Marilyn at Writing Pad is always advising, “Keep the pen moving.” So yes, after four days of not writing, I picked up my computer and started working on my novel again last Friday . And I’ve upheld my writing practice every day since. In general, I give myself a 7-day limit on tomfoolery. The rule is that if I go more than 7 days, then I have to read the The War of Art. So far I’ve only had to re-read it twice. But what do you guys do to beat “not writing?” Always looking for new fighting moves… Oh, and speaking of Writing Pad, they’re not only having a party on Thursday, but they’ll also be raffling off a 5-week writing class. I’ll be there. And so can you. Check out the details HERE. featured image credit: Rusty...

I’m the kind of chyck who likes to make new friends, but keep the old, so in the interest of fair and balanced TV reporting, I want to follow up yesterday’s new shows blogumn with one about all the returning shows I’m looking forward to. 1. HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER: Though seriously, if Ted doesn’t up and actually meet this dang woman soon, Barney might not be enough to keep me. That’s all. 2. HOUSE: I’m not dying to see what happens like I was last year, though. Sadly, I think the show has come to an impasse with its main character. He either needs to get better (which would make him less House-y) or he needs to commit to being an awful human being (which would get boring). Hope the writers can plot their way out of this one. 3. LIFE UNEXPECTED: This one kind of grew on me like BROTHERS & SISTERS, and I still have a hard time explaining why I like both so much. 4. MODERN FAMILY: My favorite new show of the 2009-2010 season. Here’s hoping they can keep it up. I’ve really missed this sitcom over the summer. 5. GREY’S ANATOMY & PRIVATE PRACTICE: My two favorite dramas on TV. I tend to watch them as a block, which is why I lumped them together. Both had terrific cliffhangers, and I’m interested to see how the shows’s characters are faring now. Also, I’m hoping for more crossover episodes this season. 6. BIG BANG THEORY: Sheldon dating — this I’ve GOT to see. But why oh why did they move this show to Thursday??? That night is so crowded now. Serious sad face. 7. 30 ROCK: I can’t ever see me not loving this show. Viva Tina Fey! 8. DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES:...

So, continuing my thoughts on the God said “Ha!” meme. I have come to accept that whenever I make a good plan obstacles will come up. I don’t think this is God say “Ha!” I think of it more as a “Do You Really Want This?” pop quiz from the universe. I rarely get sick, but if I do, it’s probably a sure bet that I’ve started a new exercise plan. A couple of weeks after I vowed to write every day until I finished the last big rewrite of my rogue sci-fi novel, both my dog and my MIL went into the hospital. As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to make plans then keep on the alert for obstacles. I take long walks when I’m not feeling well. I get up earlier and work harder when I don’t have childcare. In the words of the great Tim Gunn, I make it work, no matter what life throws at me these days. So the next time you make a plan, maybe try planning for unforeseen obstacles as well. Something beyond your control is going to come up, figure out how to get around or over it. I’ll leave you now with this great piece of advice that Ms. Terry McMillan tweeted a few weeks ago: “We are tested every single day by the challenges we are forced to face. Pass the test.” Featured Image Credit:...

The other month a friend asked me for advice re fertility testing, IUI, and IVF. Here’s what I told her below. If you, too, have been through fertility testing, IUI, or IVF, please feel free to add your two cents in the comments. 1. Cut back at work. I actually quit my job during the process, b/c basically you have to revolve around your ovulation cycle and show up to appointments at the drop of a dime sometimes. If people are counting on you to be certain places at certain times, you’re going to drive them and yourself crazy. So don’t quit your job, but if you can, do the bare minimum to keep your job and don’t take on any new projects. 2. Pick someone to vent to outside of your partner. 3. Make a worst-case scenario budget. For example we said that we would pay for any fertility tests that we needed. And would try IUI up to 5 times (we were advised to stop after two tries). And we agreed that we would only try IVF twice b/c it is so expensive. A lot of people don’t like to think about the worst-case scenario, but that’s how you end up divorced and broke. Agree beforehand how far you and your partner want to take this before you look into adoption or not having children at all. The process is very hard on marriages and much like with parenting, you want to be on the same page. The worst fights come when one partner wants to keep trying and the other is like, “No, we’ve spent too much money.” Have the fight BEFORE you start the process. 4. Have some hard discussions about finances. If IUI works, there’s a good chance that...

I picked this blogumn as a FaN Favorite b/c I’m starting the second draft of the AWESOME GIRL’S GUIDE TO DATING EXTRAORDINARY MEN and have a whole slew of new research to do. But I’m not going to talk to much about it, b/c you know … spoilers. From January 13, 2010 So this week’s current mood picture refers to the fact that I’ve sent my last pass of 32 CANDLES back to the publisher, and am now hankering down with a new women’s fiction novel called the The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men. As I mentioned last week, I was all sorts of in love with this new novel … but that was before I actually started working on it — or if we want to stretch the romantic metaphor, before I moved in with it. Now, I’m finding out the weird — almost schizophrenic way — that these characters who seemed hot-to-go when I was with another novel, are actually demanding nags. The novel has four main characters, but there’s one that I like particularly and she has been hinting that she wants to be a comedian. Yes, a comedian — even though I have little to no experience with performing comedy — only writing it. I tried offering her many other career options. I was even willing to let her be a writer, though I try to never, ever make my main characters writers — just because the actual act of writing is so boring that I know it’s not really of interest to anyone but other writers. But she stood her ground and insisted that she had to be a comedian, b/c that’s what she was. Okay, so though, I’m a write-at-home mom with limited evening time to...

So I picked this blogumn as a favorite, b/c not only did we have a rather intense comments discussion about this, but also b/c Friend of FaN, Sallie Patrick, convinced me that it should be spelled “yay,” and I’ve spelled it that way ever since! From July 29, 2009 Image Credit: Khantipol So I have this character in my rogue sci-fi novel who gets weirdly and rather childishly excited about everything and therefore ends up saying, “Yay!” a lot. Or should it be “Yea!”? Or should it be “Yeah!”? Like me you’ve probably seen this exclamation spelled all three ways by others. I personally prefer “yea,” but will go with “yay” according to the addressee and/or the occasion. For example, I might say, “Yea! I can’t wait to see you again” to a college buddy visiting town. And “Yay! The 2010 reunion is going to rock” to a family member. I never say “Yeah!” b/c I feel it sounds a little too much like I’m pumping my fist in the air when I write it this way, but I do understand what attracts other people to it. Still, I wish we could all agree one way of spelling this exclamation. Then I’d really say yea! Or yay! Or yeah! Sigh… But seriously, how do you think we should spell it? Let’s hash it out in the...

So I joined Weight Watchers about a month ago in the hopes of getting back down to my wedding weight before I (hopefully) get pregnant again in January. As some of you might remember, I did not enjoy my first pregnancy, though I thoroughly love the result. So I’m hoping that being in better shape going into the second pregnancy will help me maintain energy and happiness the next time around. Actually, I don’t need to be happy, but I do really, truly need the energy, since my toddler probably isn’t planning to pamper me the way my husband did during my first pregnancy. My diet plan this time is a simple two-parter: 1. Stay within my Weight Watchers points. 2. Exercise for 20 minutes every single day. And that’s it. I’ve lost 6 pounds so far and am officially in an awkward between-sizes state. I feel great, but … Lately, I’ve found myself daydreaming about food. And not just about food, but about the perfect meal. I think about sumptuous steak dinners complete with wine and dessert. I imagine going to Korean BBQ and washing it down with copious amounts of Asahi. And you don’t even want to know what I’ve been thinking about doing to a boat of sushi. Or heaven forbid, what would happen if I walked into a French restaurant. At this point, I would not settle for an In-N-Out burger. I would want — nay, I would need the double-double, the fries, the vanilla milkshake, and good company. So, I think you know where this is headed. I wonder what you consider the elements of an ideal meal. For me, I have to have food I enjoy, really good beer or wine, dessert, and awesome people to share it...

So with my summer challenge of wearing my pink 32 CANDLES shirt exclusively (except to book events) less than a couple of weeks from being over, I’ve been wondering about my wardrobe after the pink T-shirt. Three months of wearing the same thing gives you a lot of time to think about wardrobe in general. For a while there, I was vowing to only wear dull colors like black, beige, and maybe forest green when I got done with this challenge. Then I thought about going back to my usual button-up and sweater vest style in the fall. But something’s changed in me forever, I don’t think I could go back to that style, because get this … it’s too complicated. One thing that only switching out my bottoms has taught me is that I really — and I mean really don’t need that many clothes. At first I was consumed, thinking about all the clothes I might buy after the T-shirt challenge, but as it wore on* I began wondering whether I could pare my non-event wardrobe down to 14 items: 7 tops — one of which would be my 32 CANDLES T-shirt (which let’s face it, is perfect for days when I don’t have much to do outside the house) and 7 bottoms. I want all of these tops and bottoms to match. I want them all to be items that travel well and look good in whatever iteration I choose to wear them. So after a summer of wearing mostly one thing, I now want my new wardrobe to be as simple as it can possibly be without me having to wear the same thing every day. Is that even possible? Anyway, here’s what I’ve got so far. Please weigh in...

Yesterday, I made a big deal about taking Betty to the library and picking out a brand new book, about this dancing hippo that I was sure she would love. Last night, after her bath and change into pajamas, I opened up her brand new (to her) book, only to have her firmly close it on me and point to her usual book, SLEEPY ABC. I thought maybe closing the book had been a playful mistake on her part, so I reopened it. But she closed it again, and then again, pointing so emphatically at her other book that I gave in and read her SLEEPY ABC. I do weeklong rotations of three different books, but this one is our “on the road” book and therefore the one she’s heard the most, since we’re traveling fools. But last night I realized that this is also the book she would take with her if stranded on a deserted island. Authors get asked for their deserted island picks all the time. I usually say THE COLOR PURPLE, since it’s my favorite book of all time. But what’s interesting is that answer would change if asked which author I’d want to take if I were stranded on a deserted island. Betty’s answer would stay the same. Margaret Wise Brown wrote both GOODNIGHT MOON and SLEEPY ABC, but I’m not nearly as devoted to Alice Walker’s other works. So the answer becomes a bit trickier. There are a number of authors who I’d read anything by, but most of them wouldn’t make my short list, just because they don’t have enough books to sustain me for very long. Really, you’d want the best prolific author you could find. I’d want to take someone who had written at least...

An old friend of mine wrote a great blog post about being frustrated with her career and my answer to her blog post was as usual 1) way too long and 2) more helpful to me than to her. But basically it can be boiled down to this. Every artist has three choices to make in life. A) Do your own art and accept that you might never make a dime doing it or B) Do art for someone else and be unhappy or C) Don’t do art at all and go crazy. Actually it’s not really a choice, because no one ever makes a firm choice not to pursue their own art. Everyone who dies without trying to make a career out of their own art basically waffles until they expire without making a firm decision. It’s not a blue pill or red pill situation for artists. Choice A, unlike the pill that makes you forget, is always on the table. Even if we opt via indecision for Choices B or C, Choice A will haunt us until the day we die. In fact, Choice A will probably be what we think of with our dying breaths. I wish I had better news for you, but those are the grim facts of art. So I say just choose Choice A. Yes, it’s the hardest choice you’ll ever have to make, but at least you chose. At least you tried. I think everyone (including me) is afraid of taking chances. But those who do never seem to regret taking them on their death beds. I’ve never heard of anyone saying, “I wish I hadn’t written that novel, or tried to sell my art, or pursued my dreams. I really regret doing that.” Also, there’s...

So I’ve promised on several occasions that I would post the rough draft of the first chapter of my second book, THE AWESOME GIRL’S GUIDE TO DATING EXTRAORDINARY MEN. When I made this promise, I was floating in a cloud of hopeful writing theory. Why not show people how the sausage is made? I thought. Many writers talk about their process in such ephemeral way, I thought, why not show readers how a first chapter goes from something very rough to something that you might actually  be willing to share with another human being. At least that’s how I thought about it when I was feeling all fanciful and up-with-writing. But some kind of switch flipped on Monday, and when I typed in the words “come back on Wednesday, when I’ll be posting the rough draft first chapter of THE AWESOME GIRL’S GUIDE TO DATING EXTRAORDINARY MEN” it felt like I was typing “come back on Wednesday, when I will pose naked in front of you without the benefit of lighting or photoshop.” Here’s the thing about Photoshop. Certain people are always complaining about overly Photoshopped magazine ads and covers, but you know what they don’t complain about? All the little stuff that also gets photoshopped, stuff most folks don’t even notice. For example, my alumnae magazine recently did a feature interview with Gloria Steinem — the current picture of her that they used for the article was probably Photoshopped. Most author photos, including my own — subtlety Photoshopped. So why oh why, I asked myself, would I agree to show my work without the benefit of editing, lighting, or even a spot of makeup? I tried to figure out how to get out of this not thoroughly thought-out promise. I feared that people...

I’ve received some amazing photos of 32 CANDLES merch, but I think you’ll agree that Di Koob’s cross country road trip with the 32 CANDLES tote bag is the best photo retrospective ever. Obviously my favorite is the one where the 32 CANDLES tote enjoys a Yuengling and Philly Cheesesteak. Oh Yuengling, how I miss thee. Check out the photos after the jump, and click on the pics to see them in their full...

As someone who never did manage to come up with a good one-sentence pitch for her novel, I found agent Rachelle Gardner’s advice on one-sentence pitches fascinating. She advises using specific, non-confusing language and not sounding like a downer. For example if I were pitching THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON, I might say A guy learns many lessons while aging backwards in Louisiana before disappearing into the ether. But I SHOULD say something like Benjamin Button is born under mysterious circumstance in New Orleans, and learns many lessons about life, death, and love, while aging backward from an old man to a newborn baby. Hmm, well, that’s still confusing, and maybe not specific enough, but like I said, I’m not particularly good at the one-sentence elevator pitch. I’ve gotten 32 CANDLES down to small paragraph, so I’ll take that. But this all got me wondering what our actual lives might sound like as a one-sentence pitch. Mine might go… Ernessa T. Carter grows up bored in St. Louis, goes on many exciting adventures all over the world, only to settle down in California and write a novel about something else entirely. If I was allowed more than one sentence, I would definitely put in a “Go figure.” But I’m not, so, I guess I’ll leave it at that. I want to hear about your lives though, in one-sentence, and I’m excited to see what you come up with. Meanwhile, let’s congratulate the winner of our last online totebag giveaway… EVERYONE. We only got three comments and it was our last online tote bag giveaway, so I decided the more tote bags the merrier. You can see all the comments on the the “What Book Has Changed Your Life?” post...

They say that opposites attract, and at one point my main characters Davie Jones and James Farrell get in an argument over their very different television viewing habits. Davie doesn’t own a TV set, she either watches her favorite shows on her computer or on DVD. James however has a flatscreen in his room, in all of his guest rooms, and even in a few of the bathrooms. My own TV viewing habits are a mix between the two. I used to watch my favorite shows exclusively on my computer — and this was before the days of broadcast channels streaming their shows online, so I ended up watching series, either after they were completely over (ANGEL, FARSCAPE, SIX FEET UNDER) or a season behind (VERONICA MARS, GREY’S ANATOMY, THE WIRE). This made life a bit difficult. I pretty much had to stop reading Entertainment Weekly or any online entertainment sites, and I couldn’t talk about current television shows at parties — which is hard every place else, but renders you somewhat ridiculous in LA. On the other hand, it left me with a lot of time to read, and I only watched the shows that I truly loved. However, after I met my husband, I happily welcomed the TV set back into my life, and now we have a television in our livingroom and a television set in our basement for guests, workouts, videogames, and whatnot. I watch THE PRICE IS RIGHT in the morning with a bowl of cereal and occasionally, I’ll watch DAYS OF OUR LIVES with my MIL before I go downstairs to write. Then I’ll watch JEOPARDY around 7pm, and the rest of my TV watching happens after my husband gets home. This seems like the perfect balance for...

People ask me all the time if 32 CANDLES is based on my life. The short answer is no. My mom wasn’t abusive, and other than being dark-skinned, Davie and I have very little in common. Though, like Davie, I did learn a few lessons courtesy of my main bully. Soooo many people made fun of me all the way until I went into college, but funnily enough, I only remember the name of my first one, who I’ll just call Bully Zero. Bully Zero wasn’t a physical bully. She never hit me, but she was an emotional bully. She often said mean things to me in front of the rest of the class, then would turn around and be my friend when no one was looking. I worried myself silly, trying to figure out how to make her stop teasing me in public and how to make her my friend all the time, as opposed to when she just wanted a piece of my candy bar or didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Also, she had everything I lacked: huge popularity, huge personality, and huge good looks — even her mom was prettier and more popular than my mom. It was like that. For a long time after I switched schools, I held Bully Zero up as my bogeyman. From the age of like 12, I had visions of becoming a successful writer and then rubbing it in her face somehow. But sometime in my early twenties, during my most starving of starving artist days, it occurred to me: we were just kids. I didn’t forgive her — it wasn’t even a situation that demanded forgiveness, because we were children. I just let it go. Actually I’m a little grateful for Bully...

So as of today, I’m still holding out hope that I will actually be able to visit my writing exchange partner, Gudrun from “Secret Life of an Expat” in France next week, despite Mother Nature trying to keep us apart through the rather curious device of volcanic ash. And that got me to thinking that some of you might be considering taking on a writing exchange partner, so here are my thoughts on that subject: Why Are Writing Exchange Partners Beyond Awesome? There are some writers who don’t believe in showing anyone their work until it’s finished, or at least decent. I used to be one of those writers, but I’ve completely changed my mind on that subject. I get so much more work done, knowing that at least one other person is going to read it and give me feedback. It’s also hard for either of us to skip more than a few days without the other partner sending an electronic nudge. It took me 18 months to write 32 CANDLES on my own. It took me three and a half months to finish my last rough draft with someone holding me accountable for pages. You do the math. How Do You Find A Writing Partner? Well, Gudrun and I actually met over the course of several “Finishing School” classes at the beyond wonderful Writing Pad, which assigns you a writing exchange partner for each five-week session. But we didn’t actually get assigned as each other’s writing exchange partners, until after we had known each other for a year or so. We were friends beforehand, but we REALLY clicked as writing partners, and when the class ended, we went on exchanging pages. That was back in 2008. So if you don’t already know...

Don’t have much time to talk as I’m supposed to be on vacation with my wonderful inlaws, but just wanted to say that I had the most wonderful dinner Tuesday night after taking an hour to myself to write. Before that, I was getting kind of salty. This makes me wonder how other writers handle vacation. Do you always write on vacation like I do? Or have you found a way to stay sane and enjoy your vacation without demanding an hour or two alone, so that you don’t turn into Mr. Hyde? Either way, lemme know in the comments! Also, we’ve just about chosen the actress for the book on tape. So awesome, though I doubt that I’ll ever be able to bring myself to listen to the BoT. I hear that everything that is wrong with a book become glaringly obvious when you listen to the audiobook, and I don’t know that I want to know what is glaringly wrong with the book after it becomes outside my power to fix it. What do you think? . Ernessa T. Carter is the author of the novel, 32 CANDLES, which will be released by HarperCollins/Amistad on June 22, 2010. Pre-order your copy on Amazon here. . Photo Credit: Lester Public...

So according to my outline, I’m halfway through my latest novel. And so if this entry seems to lack it’s usual up-with-writingness, that’s because I always fall a little in hate with my books when they get to this point. The whole thing feels adrift and though I keep on reassuring myself that everything (or at least most things) can and will be fixed in the minimum four rewrites that I do of every book I take on these days, it seems that the demons get louder the closer I get to any goal. And this being my second women’s fiction novel, they seem to be particularly obnoxious. You only have one book in you! You’re trying to do too much. You’re not doing enough. This is derivative. This is too different. Why can’t you write better? Doesn’t it bother you that you totally suck at the only thing you’re any good at? Seriously, if a man treated me like my demons treat me, I would dump him … and get a restraining order. And quite frankly, I wonder how other writers get through this bit. I know how I get through it — basically I feel like I have no other choice due to being talented at absolutely nothing else. You know how some writers have all sort of other talents? Well, I’m not one of those writers. It literally feels like I’m slogging through a humid Florida swamp and if I want to make it out alive, I just have to keep on going OR I WILL DIE. Also, weirdly enough, writing is the only thing that takes my mind off the fear of not being a good writer. Funny coincidence, I’m also halfway to my New Year’s Resolution of losing forty...

I’ve read two great articles chock-full of writing advice lately. One is for fiction writers from famous fiction writers in the UK Guardian, the other is for freelance writers by Christina Katz from the “Prosperous Writer” blog. But let’s focus on the Guardian article. I was pleasantly surprised by how much of the advice I agreed and didn’t agree with. For example, I loved Elmore Leonard’s advice about not using the word “suddenly” (though it’s come way to late for me) and Helen Dunmore’s prescription of long walks to solve knotty writing problems; but I completely disagreed with Geoff Dyer about writing in public places, with Richard Ford about not having children, and with Margaret Atwood about always carrying pencils on planes b/c pens leak — I completely loathe writing in pencil. But the main thing I realized while reading these two pieces is that I just really, really love writing advice. It makes me feel like I’m constantly learning and it’s so nice to be in a profession where advice is given so generously and often for free. That all said, here’s what I figure are my own 10 Best Pieces of Writing Advice: 1. Write everyday for at least an hour. If you don’t have an hour, write for 40 minutes. If you don’t have 40 minutes, write for 20 minutes. If you don’t have 20 minutes — well, you’re lying, and should really consider how bad you want this. 2. Work on one thing at a time. It’s easy to get distracted by all the other things you could be writing. 3. Commit to your novels and vow to see them all the way through to the end. Vow to self-publish if no one else will support your book, but leave...

I found the Jezebel response to the fantastic Paul Krugman piece in the New Yorker interesting. Basically Irin Carmon asks if the wives of great male writers should get more credit. Krugman’s wife, Robin Wells, a fellow economist, edits Krugman’s piece and can be credited with making him less dry and more appealing to the layperson. It is not an uncommon situation that male writers from Eugene O’Neill to Stephen King tend to have devoted wives in the background, taking care of their children, making sure they eat, reading their first drafts, and encouraging them every step of the way. But Carmon wonders if female writers can say the same. My response: Wait, there are writer’s whose spouses DON’T support them in these ways? Unless I specifically ask him not to be, my husband, CH, is pretty much my first reader on everything. Back when I first started writing for American Top 40, I would call him to brainstorm whenever I got stuck on a punchline for a joke. CH found the web designer for Fierce and Nerdy and he’s the one that makes sure that it runs smoothly on the technical side. He’s also the one that designed the 32 Candles site, including the recent redesign, now that we have some sense of what the book cover is going to be. He takes care of our daughter when I’m writing on the weekends and when we’re on vacation. If I’m dragging my feet about doing anything that makes me uncomfortable — like asking my agent or editor a question, taking my author photo, or earlier in my novel writing career, just sending out query letters; he pushes me over that road block. And if I’m fretting late at night, he talks me through...

“Sixteen Candles Meets E. Lynn Harris” — that’s what they’re calling my book in-house at HarperCollins, according to Marketing Manager, Bobby Brinson. What a nice compliment! Find out what else he had to say about 32 CANDLES here. Though, it should be noted that my father wasn’t exactly “affluent” when my mother met him. But he was certainly wealthier, more popular and way more handsome than anyone else she had ever dated. Anywho, Mr. Brinson’s comments got me to thinking about how every novel is a Slumdog Millionaire of sorts, with every experience and detail you encounter adding up to a Frankenstein of a book. I’ve said before that the main two influences for this story were my mother and my best friend, but there are also elements of my husband, LA friends, my relatives, and many others. For example, I landed on Davie’s first job after an actress I went to grad school with told me in passing that her main job was at an LA cabaret, the male character of Nicky is inspired by my no-nonsense aunts, and Davie’s car is the same beater that I bought for $600 when I first moved to LA. It’s funny, b/c they always say write what you know, but often it feels like novels leave you little signs and gifts in everyone you meet and in every place you go, so that in the end, you’re  not just writing what you know, but also what you encounter and what you hear about. If you’re a conscious writer, every conversation carries weight, every hurt can be recycled, and every single person you meet is an inspiration. The other day, I was brunching with two other Smithies and I told them that I was working on a...

I promised myself that I would hit the ground running with this self-promotion stuff as soon as I scheduled my first interview or received the cover art for 32 CANDLES, whichever came first. Well, I had my first interview on Monday for the Smith Alumnae Quarterly. Fellow Smithies, look for that profile in the spring edition, and big thanks to writer and Friend of FaN, Aimee Swartz, for making the interview so lovely. Also, I received the first pass of the cover yesterday and I adore it. It’s so fun and man, will it stand out in a bookstore! I’m hoping to be able to debut it soon here. So yes, it’s time to start self-promoting. I won’t say that I dislike self-promoting. My FB friends already know that I drop several nudges a day about checking out the many wonderful posts and items at fierceandnerdy.com. But I’ll admit that I don’t know much about promotion outside of Fierce and Nerdy, so I’ve got a lot of learning to do and I’m hoping my experiences with this (new-to-me) artform will help other aspiring writers, too. Let’s navigate, shall we? First up, a three-part favor: 1. The first part is simple really. I’m working on my calendar for the rest of the year, and I need to know which bookstores you love, so that I can try to hit them up for visits before January 2011. You can either leave a message in the comments, PM me at etc AT 32candles dot com, or Facebook me. However you do it, I’ll be grateful for the info. 2. The second part is even more simple. If you haven’t already, please Become a Fan of 32 CANDLES on FaceBook here. And if you’re already a fan, please...

Towards the beginning of our relationship, my husband used to say this this thing that infuriated me. I would be all upset over a program and he’d say, “Calm down, these people aren’t real.” He got away with saying this a couple of times before I found the words to argue back. “When I’m writing, I totally feel like my characters are real,” I told him. “In fact, I find it hard to believe that they don’t exist somewhere. Some writer toiled over these characters, and I respect that they were written to be real.” And that kind of thinking is basically why I don’t get writer’s block. I got stuck a few places in 32 CANDLES, and at first I would wait until inspiration struck for the next bit, but when I finally committed to a daily writing practice, I had to write every day and couldn’t wait on my mercurial muse, so I just started asking my main character, “And then what happened, Davie?” After all, it was her story, she should be able to tell me what happened next. Lo and behold, she always answered. “I decided to fill out a college application,” she’d say, Or “I memorized a bunch of standards” or “I talked to him for three days straight, and here’s what he told me…“ Sometimes, she would tell me things after the fact. Like I’d be driving by a movie billboard, and she’d say, “Did you know that billboard inspired me to do that big thing I do towards the end of the story?” And I’d answer, “No, I thought you just decided to do that out of the blue.” And she’d say, “No, it was the poster.” And I’d have to reopen chapter twenty-whatever and rewrite it...

So this week’s current mood picture refers to the fact that I’ve sent my last pass of 32 CANDLES back to the publisher, and am now hankering down with a new women’s fiction novel called the The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men. As I mentioned last week, I was all sorts of in love with this new novel … but that was before I actually started working on it — or if we want to stretch the romantic metaphor, before I moved in with it. Now, I’m finding out the weird — almost schizophrenic way — that these characters who seemed hot-to-go when I was with another novel, are actually demanding nags. The novel has four main characters, but there’s one that I like particularly and she has been hinting that she wants to be a comedian. Yes, a comedian — even though I have little to no experience with performing comedy — only writing it. I tried offering her many other career options. I was even willing to let her be a writer, though I try to never, ever make my main characters writers — just because the actual act of writing is so boring that I know it’s not really of interest to anyone but other writers. But she stood her ground and insisted that she had to be a comedian, b/c that’s what she was. Okay, so though, I’m a write-at-home mom with limited evening time to do research, I shot off emails to a couple of female comedians I know and asked to shadow them at their next performance. Fine. But that’s all! I tell my characters. But how about the Spanish telenovellas? the guitarist-turned-singer asks. Wait, what Spanish novellas? You’ve got to watch some Spanish telenovellas, b/c...

  As I’ve told many people IRL and online already, I’m hoping that IVF will produce one more miracle baby for us by the end of 2010. But because I’m anxious, I’ve started to get a little scared that it won’t work the second time as easily as it did the first. Sometimes I think that I just shouldn’t talk about it. Maybe if I keep my hopes secret from the universe, then it won’t burn me. But then I remember driving to my first date with my future-husband, CH, and saying, “Universe, I’m ready, I’m truly ready,” and that turned out pretty well. So I look at pictures like this 4-seater orange Vespa, and I imagine myself and CH on it sometime during the 2020s with our daughter, Betty, and her future sibling, tooling around the Italiano countryside, and I think, “Yes, this could happen.” For whatever reason, I’ve always believed that if I talk aloud about something good happening, then it will and if I imagine something bad happening, then it won’t. For example, I never, ever imagined that my mother would die early, but before my date with CH, who I was really excited about, I said, “Universe, I’m ready, I’m truly ready.” The other day I read something which opined that a novelist shouldn’t tell anyone about her work in progress, just like a mother shouldn’t tell anyone about the life growing inside of her until it’s at least three months old. I actually believe the opposite. When Betty was confirmed, I told EVERYBODY. I called up friends, I wrote about it on Fierce and Nerdy. If a random friend asked me how I was doing two weeks after I found out Betty was a go, I would say, “Well,...

So, I’m going to keep this short and sweet, since I have about 1,000 things to do today with a baby that I’m sure would rather be home and playing, than battling the shopping and mailing throngs or watching me type of mailing labels — thrilling thought that is. What’s insane is that I bought most of my stuff online, so technically there shouldn’t be those many gifts to shop for. It’s the little stuff that adds up. So many new people on the Holiday card list this year. Also, we have to pick up a gift card for our mail person, who I’ve never met, but seems to be doing a really good job. And we’ve also got to ship that gift to our godson … anyway my day is a mess. But this item in Jezebel caught my eye. It says that 92% of women remember the first pair of shoes they bought with their own money but not so much the name of the first person they kissed. Weirdly, I remember neither, but I do vaguely recall this kid I dated in junior high. Our relationship consisted a hugging each other whenever we saw each other and occasionally talking on the phone. And I think the first pair of shoes that I brought with my own money was a pair of Converse, which coincidentally was the last pair of shoes that I bought with my own money. Except my original ones were black, and my latest ones are azalea. Yes, azalea! I’ve always just really adored Converse… But what was the first pair of shoes that you bought with your own hard-earned...

Writing is like exercise. You know you should be doing it, you feel better after you do it, yet … somehow it often just doesn’t get done. I just realized yesterday after spending three hours reading other authors’ blogs that I might not be doing online marketing research as I had told myself, but indeed procrastinating. And the sad thing is that I’m really, really excited about writing my next new book — right after I finish rewriting Supersonic, the book I was working on when 32 Candles sold. However, 32 Candles sold back in April and I’m still not done with this Supersonic rewrite. Guys, I’m not even halfway done with this rewrite, and I don’t even know if the book will sell, since being sci-fi adventure, it’s way outside my original genre and I’ll probably have to rock a pseudonym so that I don’t turn off my potential women’s fiction audience. Meanwhile, the next book is singing a serious siren song. “Come cheat with me,” it says. “I’m much hotter than Supersonic. People will LURVE me, and I promise that writing me will be super-duper easy, not like that book you’re working on now, which is too different to ever sell anyway. So instead of setting yourself up for disappointment, why don’t you hook up with me, baby?” Mighty tempting. The only thing is that’s EXACTLY what Supersonic said when it was trying to lure me away from  32 Candles, so I’m not sure the next book is telling me the truth. Why do novels always start knocking on your door and calling your incessantly before you’re ready to write them? Anyway, the point is that I’m hoping to finish the Supersonic rewrite over winter break, since Fierce and Nerdy will be on...

. . JUNE 22, 2010!!! . For those of you that know me, IRL, yes, that is the same day as my daughter Betty’s 1st birthday. This is great for three reasons. 1. This makes the release date extra-super-duper-auspicious. 2. I was trying to figure out how to get out of throwing a birthday party for someone who won’t remember it. I’ve been told that this birthday party is for the parents, but since I don’t want to throw it, I don’t see what good having one would be. However, I doubt my friends and relatives would have accepted this logic, so yay! Now I have an excuse. 3. I’ve always wanted to be read on the beach. What-what! Anywho, check out the Amazon pre-order page here. And the Borders pre-order page here. And check out the OFFICIAL 32 CANDLES website here. Also, please do us a mighty boon by becoming a fan of 32 Candles if you’re on Facebook. Meanwhile, I’ll let you know more release details as we get them. 100% Love, etc Photo Credit: Anne...

So I promised to support my writing exchange partner by reading her National Novel Writing Month pages as she writes them and giving her positive feedback. At least I thought I was supporting her, but as it turns out, I was volunteering for a particular kind of obsessive book thrall. The kind that moves you to actually you know … do things. IRL things. Because you read it in a book. And I’m only on Chapter 4. Let me back up. I can’t tell you the plot of the novel, because it’s not mine to tell. But the first bit of it is set in France. And the narrator does such a good job of describing France, that I could now tell to you what the congested highways are like on the way from the French airport. And also what a French snack of jam and cheese tastes like. And what it feels like to be a smart, white teenager in em-effin France. And you know this novel actually makes me want to sit in rush hour traffic in France, and snack on jam and cheese, and be a teenager in em-effin France. Even the jet lag seemed pretty effin romantic. Seriously, I’m loving this book. I could practically hear French music playing as I read it. Then I heard Betty crying. She had woken up from her nap and it was time for me to come back to California. That’s when this particular kind of book thrall hit me. I decided to go get some fancy cheese. In fact I decided to strap Betty in the Baby Bjorn and walk to Ralph’s and get the fanciest cheese they had. But then I got to the living room and realized it was dark already,...

Oh guys, I am in a terrible mood. First of all Betty got her 4-month shots yesterday, which was WAY more traumatizing for both of us than her first round of shots 2 months ago. The first time she fussed a bit then calmed down immediately. This time she screamed and cried in the most pitiful, guilt-inducing way until she finally passed out when we got home. After an hour nap, she decided that she wanted to be held close for the rest of the day, and really who could blame her, that’s exactly how I would’ve responded if I were a baby. However, I wasn’t comfortable leaving her with a sitter, so I had to miss out on last night’s Chi Chi’s Word Parlor and I near about starved, b/c we had no food in the house having just gotten back from St. Louis, and it’s hard to get a meal together for yourself with a baby that screams every time you try to put her down. Did I mention that I was also supposed to begin a big freelance project for my old job yesterday? Oh, and I lost my car and house keys while getting out of the car at the doctor’s office yesterday. CH has been after me for weeks to get a bigger purse as opposed to my two-small Target wrist-strap clutch which keeps falling open and dumping out all of its contents, including my cash, card cozy, keys, and poor abused iPhone, but I didn’t listen. And now I’m out a set of car keys, which become really expensive to replace when you add that power-lock and security thingie into the mix — this was not an issue with my old Echo (which didn’t even have power steering)...

So Halloween has been interesting for me this year, because though there are a ton of cute and appropriate costumes for the infant-toddler set, somewhere around six-years-old it all seems to become either princess or (IMO highly-inappropriate) kid version of the sexy [name your profession here] costumes often peddled to adult women. Mind you I’m the one who at the age of 12 wore a plastic She-Ra costume to her super-popular cousin’s basement Halloween Party (I’m fairly sure I was only invited b/c her mom made her). Back then it was either that or you had to make your own. Everyone else either wore street clothes or made their own, while my sister and I sweated the night out in our matching plastic costumes. I stopped getting dressed up for Halloween after that, so I wasn’t quite aware of how “far” costumes had come. Pushing the sexy girl costumes aside — those won’t even be considered — I find the princess look equally disturbing. Has Disney taken over our costumes? And if so, why aren’t we encouraging more girls to be more creative than princess? For instance, I think Betty would be adorable as the cowgirl from Toy Story or a pirate from Pirates of the Caribbean or even the Porsche 911 from Cars. Vroom! Vroom! Outside of pop culture, I would love to see more girls dressing up as lawyers or librarians or scientists or doctors. There’s nothing wrong with a princess or two, but at the last Halloween party I went to, it seemed like the vast majority of girls had chosen princess. Though there were two charming homemade exceptions of pig (this was obviously her ballet leotard and tights with a tail attached, a pig ear headband, and a nose) and...

Interestingly enough, I received this Newsweek article from three different people, which I took as a hint that I should mention it on the ole blog. The article can basically be summarized as this: even if white parents think they are teaching kids not to see race, kids still see it, and not only segregate themselves accordingly, but also consider their own race superior. This is mostly because as it turns out when most white parents say that they’re teaching their kids not to see race, what they really mean is that they don’t talk to their kids about race. Like at all. And so kids come to their own conclusion, like that their own skin color is the best, and oh yeah, that their liberal parents don’t like black people. Now I find this last point most interesting, b/c if you had asked me whether my parents liked white people when I was a child, I would have said no. Not because they didn’t like white people (I found out later that they both considered it a waste of time and energy to hate on white people), but because I never saw them with white people. They didn’t have any white friends and the only white people that ever came over to our house were invited by my sister and me. So no, I didn’t think my parents liked white people. And I imagine that it doesn’t matter how liberal you are or what you say. If your kids don’t regularly see you with people of other races, then they’ll probably come to the same conclusion as the kids in the featured Newsweek study. Oh, and another off-main-topic point from the article: the vast majority of people have a same-race best friend. I,...

So I talked yesterday about how the media and some bloggers love this story of how BW-WM relationships come to be: Black woman starts off dating within her race. Discovers that there are no “good” black men. Decides to marry a white man b/c of this dearth. That wasn’t the case with me, but I did used to be one of those sisters that didn’t date outside of her race. In fact, I didn’t go on a date with a white guy until I was 24, and I didn’t seriously date one until I was 25. When I look back on it, I can barely remember why I thought it would be so wrong to date a white guy, even though for the majority of my dating years I held this to be true. I remember feeling angry whenever I read about what white slave owners did to black female slaves and vowing that I’d never get mixed up with a white guy. Also, I was raised in a mostly black community, and I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of my fellow black girls that dated white boys growing up. It just wasn’t done. But mostly I had an image of what my life would be like and it had Cosby Show — not that sidekick couple from The Jeffersons — written all over it. I’ve mostly California to thank for changing my mind on this subject. Let me tell you, for whatever reason, I have always attracted mostly nice guys. There is something about me that assholes just do not like. I never understood why, but I seriously could not get a bad boy if my life depended on it. This was fortunate, b/c I have little tolerance...

I think my main problem with the What Would Jesus Do movement is that it feels silly to me. What would Jesus do if he, like you, found out a co-worker was badmouthing him to the boss behind his back? Well, Jesus wouldn’t be working in an office because he’d be walking across the land, preaching the word of God and flossing miracles. Well, how about if someone stole his car? Jesus don’t have a car. Jesus walks. On water sometimes. What if Jesus girlfriend cheated on him? He’d take her back, b/c everybody’s Jesus’s girlfriend. He loves everybody. There’s nothing you can do that won’t have him taking the girlfriend back and then preaching the word of God to her all night long. I mean that literally. What if Bernie Madoff ripped Jesus off? Who cares? Jesus don’t believe in money. He believes in God. That’s why he flossed with miracles as opposed to camels and gold. See what I mean? Every time I even think to ask, “Well, what would Jesus do?” I can’t help but think that Jesus wouldn’t even be in this situation in the first place, because he’s Jesus, and I’m me. And really when you think about it, his background was nothing like mine, so why would I stop to wonder what he’d do every time I found myself in an ethical jam? When it comes to moral code-crafting, how should one go about this? Should we try to emulate our deities? Turn the other cheek like Jesus? Stay cool like Buddha? Play favorites like Athena? As someone who suffers from an over-abundance of guilt, I do wish that there were a clear set of rules to being a good person. Right now, I’m kind of going with...

Somehow I’ve gotten both crankier and laidback with age. For whatever reason, the stuff that used to bother me (like traffic, hubris, and reality TV shows) really doesn’t bother me these days. But on the otherhand, the things that I used not to mind (like mommy-slammers, out-of-fictional-character actions, grammar nazis [not one of which I guarantee you writes and all-white movies or TV shows) really irk me. But these days nothing seems to get crank up quite like the lack of standards in this country. I’m not talking moral requirements, but the standards by which we measure. Take for example Shipping and Handling. One thing that makes it hard for me to shop on Etsy is the fact that so many people try to hose you on shipping. I’m sorry, but if you live in the domestic U.S. of A, it does not cost $5 to ship a pair of earrings. I know this, b/c most other sellers only charge $2 for shipping. And don’t get me started on sellers who insist on charging the same This is also a big problem for me outside of etsy. I was in the middle of purchasing something off the internet this morning with a $14.95 price tag, when I was informed at checkout that it would cost five bucks to ship the item I wanted. Really? It cost more than a third of the sale price to ship it? I canceled my order. This scenario happens to me at least once a month. And the funny thing is that I wouldn’t have minded paying $20 for the item. I just knew that it shouldn’t cost $5 to ship it. IMO, all shipping should be free. Or if you just really want to hose me on the...

Wow, despite a severe drought of financial resources on our fellow Americans part, there seems to be an uptick in sales of weed. I can’t say that I’m surprised, but it did get me to thinking about crazy things that I have bought when I was flat broke. As many of my longtime friends know, I refused to get a credit card until I had steady and well-paid work. Though I as offered many of these cards, after getting in trouble with one during my college years, I decided that I could not afford to have one until my finances got stable. So I couldn’t get into too much trouble. However, no matter how broke I got, I always seemed to be able to find money for fresh mozzarella and pesto. On sourdough bread spread with green presto, slices of fresh mozzarella are glorious. The better the pesto, the more glorious. And somehow, I always found the money for this type of sandwich as opposed to just going with plain old cold cuts. And in a way, I still feel like I’m cheating myself when I eat just a regular sandwich made with cold cuts for lunch. But how about you? What’s the biggest luxury that you’ve splurged on while you were...

I’ve been meaning to talk about this professor who is trying to sell marriage insurance for a while now. When I first heard about the future possibility of buying insurance in case of divorce, I thought, “God, how unromantic.” But then upon further thought, I was like, “Wait a minute, maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.” They say that people often go into bankruptcy because of the three D’s: Death, Disaster (this includes medical disasters like cancer), and Divorce. Well people have life insurance that covers death, people have home insurance that covers natural disasters, and right now we’re having a national discussion about getting everyone on health insurance to avoid future medical disasters. But how many people are protected in case of a divorce? This is an especially big oversight when you consider that most Americans are probably much more likely to get divorced (the 2008  divorce rate was at 40% according to Wikipedia) than experience a Disaster or early Death of a spouse. Still, I can’t see divorce insurance catching on, just because most people have to ignore statistics and probabilities in order to get down the marriage aisle. Buying such a policy would make it harder to turn a blind eye to the fact that your marriage has a 40% chance of failing. Then again, if people could insure themselves against divorce maybe even more people would get married. Also, I bet a lot of people who have been divorced once would like to have this available for their second go-round. What do you think? Let us know in the comments. And read more about this future divorce insurance biz...

So since last Thursday, I’ve tried on about a dozen gowns, spent hours shoe shopping, arranged a rather expensive hair consultation and appointment, scheduled a special event make-up appointment at M.A.C., gone back and forth with myself about whether I should wear glasses to the Governer’s Ball (the Emmy after-party), and squandered countless amounts of precious daydreaming time wondering what color nail polish to wear with my black dress. I’m totally not kidding. And I still have to get the daydream killing mani-pedi. I also have to get my eyebrows done, and I’ve got the massive hair appointment on Friday. It occurs to me that getting ready for the (Technical) Emmys is basically like getting ready for prom. Except I didn’t have a kid, husband, and book rewrite when I was getting ready for prom. Also, I didn’t really get ready for prom. I asked a male friend to go with me, paid for my own ticket, slapped on some of my mom’s makeup, and wore a dress that my sister had found two days beforehand on the sale rack at Dillards for $12. But you know what, if I had it to do all over again, I’d probably do it exactly the same. Except maybe I’d put a barette in my hair. My rather boxy natural did not hold up well with time. Still this has me wondering about other people’s prom experiences. Was it everything you wanted it to be? And if you had it all to do over, what would you change? Let us know in the comments. Also, if you have any ideas about nail polish color for fancy events — I’m assuming my usual blue, green, or bright pink won’t do — help a girl out in the...

First of all, mama’s memory ain’t what it used to be, so I can’t recall which one of my Facebook friends posted this cnet.com item about Bob Dylan being in negotiations w/ two car companies to voice their in-dash nav systems. If it was you, please let me know, so that I can give you credit. Second of all, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, in-dash navigation systems suck. We just got a Garmin to do the job that the shitty in-dash nav in our otherwise wonderful hybrid does so very poorly that it drives us crazy (and gets us lost!). I’ve never met an in-dash system that does a better job than Garmin. And if you know my IRL job history, you’ll know why that’s saying a lot. Actually come back at 1pm, b/c Justin Time from “Technically Geeking” makes an even better argument against in-dash systems than I did. Third of all, though I wouldn’t want Bob Dylan guiding me — I’ve just never cared for him or his music — I think this is an awesome idea. Except I would want my nav voice to belong to Ms. Tina Turner or James Earl Jones — ooh, ooh, or better yet, someone I know IRL like my pre-GPS direction giver, CH; or my pre-CH direction giver, Karen F; or my pre-Karen F. direction giver, Dad. Yes, I need a lot of direction. But if you were able to choose, whose voice would you want guiding you through traffic? Sound off in the comments. [Source:...

So after Olay Definity released this wrinkle-free, ridiculously photoshopped ad, featuring Twiggy, a few British law makers are trying to impose a possible ban on or at least required disclosure of Photoshop use in ads. And it’s got me thinking… Should we think about doing the same thing here? The problem is that the beauty industry in this country seems to revolve around not helping you to looking better, but making you feel inferior. They put out an ad, featuring someone who supposedly uses their products. You feel bad that you, too, don’t look like that someone who supposedly uses those products, so you buy those products, hoping to look like that person. This wouldn’t be so bad if said someone a) actually did look that good b/c s/he used the advertised product or b) wasn’t photoshopped within an inch of her life. So in fact, you’ll never look like the girl on the billboard, b/c even the girl on the billboard doesn’t look like the girl on the billboard. And how is that fair? And how does persuading consumers into purchases with manipulated photographs not count as false advertisting? We do have Truth in Advertising laws for a reason. Is it time to take the heavy use of Photoshop to task? Many advertisers are in effect using Photoshop to outright lie about what their product can do. Anyway, read more about the British ban in this Jezebel piece, and let us know what you think of the issue in the...

Dudes, I NEVER do memes. You know that FaceBook meme that was going around several months ago that everybody did? I didn’t do it, b/c I never do memes. They’re just not my thing. But my allergies have kicked back in, and I must be feeling particularly vulnerable right now, b/c I’ve decided to fill out this 99 Things one, which was introduced to me by BabySmiling from “Baby Smiling in Backseat.” Please feel free to do it on your own blog and let us know w/ a link to your post in the comments. Wee! The rules: Things you’ve already done: bold Things you want to do: italicize Things you haven’t done and don’t want to – leave in plain font Annotated, because BabySmiling annotated hers, and I’m down w/ the imitation-flattery. 1. Started your own blog. [I actually had a (poorly updated) personal blog before FaN. But of course I love FaN loads more.] 2. Slept under the stars 3. Played in a band [Not very well though. I quit the saxophone and the school band after one year.] 4. Visited Hawaii [And thinking of going again this Christmas. We’ll see.] 5. Watched a meteor shower 6. Given more than you can afford to charity [I’m a big believer in altruism at every income level, but this seems like a dumb thing to do when your time can be just as valuable as your money to these organizations] 7. Been to Disneyworld [No, and I have no desire to go. One day I’m going to have to do a blog about how much I hate effin’ Disneyland. Disney is great (especially Miramax), but I can’t bear the parks. However, I’ve heard that you can “drink around the world” at Epcot. If I...

When I was a kid, we never went anywhere except for Mississippi for the biannual family reunion and once to Chicago for my uncle’s wedding. I didn’t get onto a plane until the age of 17 when I paid for my own ticket in order to go on a solo East Coast college tour. So maybe you’ll understand why I made my mother tell me the story of the flight that she took to Chicago when she was pregnant over and over again. Until I was 17, it was literally the only jet plane I had ever experienced. For this reason, I’m already feeling sorry for Betty. I went to Belgium when I was 2 months pregnant. We’re hitting the Grand Canyon today, since it’s on the way to Santa Fe, where we’re meeting up with CH’s mother, so that she can meet her latest grandchild. I’m taking Betty with me to New York in October. And if I do a book tour in 2010, then Betty’s going to be seeing a bunch of cities for the very first time … and she won’t remember any one of them. I really won’t blame her if she’s mad that she was taken to so many places that she was too young to truly enjoy. But this also got me to thinking about the best places that you guys have ever been — without remembering having been there. I’m sure many of your places are better than Chicago. So let us know in the...

Image Credit: Khantipol So I have this character in my second novel who gets weirdly and rather childishly excited about everything and therefore ends up saying, “Yay!” a lot. Or should it be “Yea!”? Or should it be “Yeah!”? Like me you’ve probably seen this exclamation spelled all three ways by others. I personally prefer “yea,” but will go with “yay” according to the addressee and/or the occasion. For example, I might say, “Yea! I can’t wait to see you again” to a college buddy visiting town. And “Yay! The 2010 reunion is going to rock” to a family member. I never say “Yeah!” b/c I feel it sounds a little too much like I’m pumping my fist in the air when I write it this way, but I do understand what attracts other people to it. Still, I wish we could all agree one way of spelling this exclamation. Then I’d really say yea! Or yay! Or yeah! Sigh… But seriously, how do you think we should spell it? Let’s hash it out in the...

Sorry, guys. Gotta keep it short today due to a certain baby’s weirdly high level of “I’m awake!” all night. But right quick: Photo Credit: s2art 1. Have been meaning to mention this for awhile: if you’re a fellow Vegemite lover like myself, then you might be interested to know that it got a makeover courtesy of parent company Kraft, back in June. Basically the spread is now more buttery and spreadable. I bring it up now, b/c I think I’ve given American importers enough time to get it on shelves. Now all I have to do is figure out where to get it in Los Angeles. Read more about the new Vegemite here. 2. Why am I just now finding out about Ikea’s Mint Chokos? They’re like rolos, but with minty caramel inside, and they’re absolutely brilliant. And just in case you haven’t tried them frozen (Thin Mints style, yo), get on that yesterday. 3. Sadly, I finally had to admit to myself that I just don’t have the time to write as in-depth of a blog as I wanted to, re: our Jimmy Kimmel appearance. But just in case you haven’t seen it yet, do check it out...

I just loved this Jezebel piece about the foods we eat when we eat alone — you know the foods that we wouldn’t readily admit to eating on a first date or even after a year of dating. I used to have a thing for buying 12-packs of grocery store cupcakes and eating one or two a day until they were gone. I did this all the way up until I met CH, but no boy ever saw my grocery store cupcakes. Same goes for the boxes of Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies, which I occasionally indulged in, while squirreled away in my bedroom away from the prying eyes of roommates. But what about you? Do you have any secret foods, that is foods that you only eat when no one else is watching? Do confess in the...

Photo Credit: Javier Delgado-Esteban I don’t know whether to say eww! or hmm! about this newish trend of women not only filming their births, but throwing it up on YouTube. On one hand, I do buy the argument that it’s educational for women who haven’t given birth. I was hard-pressed not to ask my Lamaze class teacher if she didn’t have any births that were filmed during this decade, and apparently that’s a common complaint in birthing classes. Also, I imagine that if you’re not sure what kind of birth you want to have, it’s of some benefit to see examples of different types of delivery. But then again, watching birth videos isn’t exactly what I’d call fun. In fact, I used the word “horror movie” to describe the experience afterwards. And the images do stay with you, so I just don’t see myself seeking out these videos on YouTube. However, they’re very popular, so maybe I’m in the minority. Anyway, read the New York Times article about this YouTube trend here. And I couldn’t watch this birthing video, but maybe you...

Sorry guys, I’ve been trying to talk about something other than pregnancy-related stuff. But since I’m officially on work-from-home maternity leave, am 1 cm dilated, and am actively waiting for Betty to frickin’ arrive already, I’m afraid that my daily posts are going to be baby-related until I you know, actually get the baby. That all said, I tried to get one of my friends to take this IntelliGender test, to find out if Betty will have any feminine company on her future playdates (so far our nearby friends are having/have had all boys), but she was all like “no, you’ll have to wait until we get the ultrasound in over two weeks.” We won’t go into how my unnamed friend is selfish b/c she won’t do exactly what I tell her to do. That much is already obvs. But as someone who obsessively took pregnancy tests before we discovered that we’d have to go with IVF, I wonder if I would’ve taken this test myself or waited until the official ultrasound. It reportedly has an 78% to 80% success rate, which ain’t too shabby. So yes, I would probably have to say that I would’ve taken it if I’d had a spontaneous pregnancy. But how about you? Do you think there’s any appeal in an OTC gender test? There’s also a lot of worry that people will use these tests to get gender-selective abortions, since these can be taken at 10 weeks as opposed to the 20 weeks it takes before most doctors administer an ultrasound. In fact, IntelliGender won’t sell their product in China and India, b/c of this fear. Warranted? I don’t think so, but then again I’m aflood in fell0w-human-loving pregnancy hormones, so I just find it hard to believe...

So I keep on forgetting to tell you guys the story about the tackiest house in Los Angeles. When my Trenton-based BFF, MMKV was in town with her son and husband, who’s an architect, I offered to take them to the “tackiest house that they have ever seen.” They didn’t believe me. However, when they saw the house in all of its bad-taste glory, they both agreed that it was the tackiest house they had ever seen and apologized for doubting my word on this. And the story goes on. After showing pictures of the ghastly wonder to her mother when she got home, MMKV’s mother declared, “I know that house. The mother of the guy that owns it goes to the church down the street from mine.” So yes, MMKV was chagrinned to find out that, Norwood Young, the owner of the tackiest house in Los Angeles is actually from her hometown of Trenton. Those of you who live in Los Angeles probably know where I’m going with this. Of course the house I speak of is Youngwood Court aka The House of Davids aka The Tackiest House in Los Angeles. Here’s Youngwood Court during regular times: And here’s Youngwood Court at Christmas: I’m fairly sure that Jesus being of sound and decorative mind would not have approved. So thank you, Trenton, for sending your minion of poor taste to our fair city. Anyway, this now has me wondering if anyone else has a notoriously tacky house in their neighborhood. CH was kind enough to send me this link to a Velvet Wonderland that’s currently up for sale in Palm Springs — seriously you have to see it to believe it. And then you still might not believe...

So one of the many stressful things that happened during last Tuesday’s move was that our cat, Steve ran away. Background: Steve basically tricked us. When we first encountered him as a kitten at the shelter, he was very lovey-dovey. But after we got him home, he basically took a cue from our other cat, Cornelious, who has never gotten over being slightly feral and only occasionally shows us any affection. Except Steve took it a step further and has managed to act like he is super-scared of us, even though he’s been with us for almost a year and we feed him and clean up his poop. We love him anyway. It’s a choice. In order to keep him from getting out of the house while all the doors were open for the movers, we put him and his brother in cardboard carriers in our old master bathroom. This is harder than it sounds, b/c it’s rather difficult to wrangle a cat that doesn’t want you to touch him and put him in a box. Then he got out of the box three times and CH kept on having to rewrangle him and retape the box in a way that clever Steve wouldn’t be able to figure his way out of it. Alas, while I was waiting at the old house and CH was at the new house, telling the movers where to put the first load of boxes, Steve managed to escape again and then when he encountered the movers, he ran downstairs. I waddled after him and even managed to get him into one room and into my arms, but then he scratched my face and arms, drawing blood, in his efforts to be let go. I dropped him and he...

Photo by Kalimba Bennett So there are two things I’ve been wondering about hardcore lately: 1) What does Betty need with every available bit of moisture in my body? I can no longer wear contacts. I’ve got dry skin tags all over, and if I try to skip my moisturizing routine for even a day I have to deal with all-over body itch. I wouldn’t mind, except I have no idea what she could be using my moisture reserves for, since she’s got like a ton of amniotic fluid to keep her nice and lubricated. And… 2) When is Betty going to come? I fear the first question will never be answered, but the second one is totally crowd sourceable. So without further ado, let’s run a Baby Betty pool in the comments. My due date is June 22nd. Guesses should consist of both the date AND the time of birth and please make sure to check the guesses before yours, so that we don’t have doubles. Whoever guesses the closest date and time of the birth will not only get the glory and online mention of guessing correctly, but also two signed copies of my book when it comes out next year. Sound good? Let’s play. I’ll throw out the first guess: June 12th, 9:00am. Now it’s your...

So as mentioned before, we’ve been thinking about moving to a more diverse neighborhood. Well, now we’re not just thinking about it, we’re actually doing it. We’ve sold our house in Silver Lake and we’ve put in a deposit on a really lovely rental house in Altadena. Pros: 1. Less money going out every month, which means that CH can take parental leave without too much monetary fuss. 2. New neighborhood that’s more diverse, safer and has much better public schools. So we won’t have to kill ourselves to come up with private school tuition or to seek out other black people. 3. It’s flat. Though, I haven’t minded living at the top of a big hill for the past few years, I am looking forward to tooling around my new, flat neighborhood on my bike, without fear of breaking my neck on the downhill ride every time I decide to go into town. 4. Change is good — especially when it’s within walking distance of the local library. Yea! 5. I’m 8 months pregnant, so for once in my life, I’m not expected to do much on a big physical project. Nice! Bonus Pro: We’ll be able to look for a new house in our new neighborhood in a nice leisurely fashion as opposed to scrambling to buy anything before our escrow closes. Cons: 1. We have to move. Keep in mind that I didn’t believe in possessions and didn’t have a stick of furniture before meeting CH. So I’m finding actually having to pack up rooms and rooms of stuff somewhat traumatizing. 2. The only thing I love more than our current neighborhood is our current house, so yeah, I’m going to miss them both big time. 3. We can’t get DirecTV in...

Concept Photo by Craig Allen Yesterday, my friend, Brian V who’s visiting us from out of town said that he’d love to have DVR for his radio — especially where NPR was concerned. That sounded good to me, too, and just the existence of podcasts alone means that programmable radio will probably happen one of these days. And that got me to thinking about all of the little advances that I’m looking forward to in the near future. Right now, I’m on the edge of my seat, waiting for iPhone to release their 3.0 operating system, so that I can finally have cut and paste. But BlackBerry already has cute and paste, and Apple really should have let us have cut and paste from the get-go, so that doesn’t really count. As far as the next little advance goes, I’m obsessed with the idea of having an LED. video wall, so I can’t wait until LED gets cheap enough to actually throw one up in our living room. How about you? Forget about hover cars, what little technological advances are you looking forward to over the next few...

So last week Amy Robinson from “Tall Drink of Nerd” mentioned  that if a fire broke out in her abode, she would grab her kitties and her laptop and rush out the door. This got me to thinking about two things: 1) In my current pregnant condition, how would I manage to wrangle our cats, who don’t come when called and don’t like to be picked up? I can only hope that I never have to figure this out. ALSO… 2) What material things do I love enough to take with me in a fire? I came up with three. Let me preface this list with a conversation that I had with a friend while in college. Lanisha (in reference to me using my floor for clothes as most women at Smith used their closets): If you love your shit, you take care of it. etc (full of anti-materialism fervor): I don’t love my things, Lanisha. They’re just things. I reserve my love for people. Fast forward, 11 years later, and I do realize that there are at least 3 things in my life that I would be willing to risk third-degree burns for: 1. My Purse: It contains my wallet, which will come in handy when I have to replace all the things I lost in the fire. And it also contains my Kindle, which will keep my mind occupied while I’m in a hotel room, waiting to hear back from our insurance people. 2. My laptop: I didn’t have a laptop (or any money) in college. That’s why I couldn’t fathom loving a material thing enough to take care of it. But like most writer’s, I would risk life and limb to save it from harm. 3. My iPhone: Communication is very...