Who Gets Reviewed and why?

As a novelist, I yearn for reviews. Of course I do. I worry and panic and if I still bit my nails (thanks to hypnosis, I gave that up last year!) I'd do that, too. I study every word of every good review wondering if they gave me the review because they felt sorry for me and I memorize every word of the bad reviews (I can still recite a Kirkus I got for my third novel by heart.) panicking that it might be true.

But, I know the other side, too. As a book columnist for The Boston Globe and Dame Magazine (I'm also a critic for People, but all those reviews are assigned), I have the privilege and responsibility of choosing about 8 books every month to review. I want to do right by authors. I want to give ink to the books that might be under the radar.

It's incredibly hard.

There are so many wonderful books that I often make huge piles and try to winnow it down before my deadline. Though I try to keep up with religious readings of Publisher's Weekly and Kirkus, I still somehow miss a lot of books--either because I didn't get the catalogue or I didn't hear about the book until too late--or I simply missed them. Sometimes I ask for a book and it gets lost in the mail and I'm so busy, I forget to rerequest. I work with a lot of fabulous publicists at the houses whom I trust completely. They know what I like and what I can't get through and they alert me to books I should know about. In fact, once a publicist called me and said, "I am trying so hard to get reviews for this book, but it's so sad, it's difficult." I immediately requested it (I adore sad books) and wrote a whole column around it (Let's Hear it for Unhappy Endings) for the Globe.

It breaks my heart sometimes, not to be able to give space to every book that comes in that I love. Right now I have eight books lined up that I desperately want to do for Dame, but I only have space for five. Some, I probably can do for the month after, but some, the pub date will make them too late. Some I can probably talk up on my blog, but some I can't.

I guess all this is in way of telling writers out there--that reviews sometimes don't happen because of space or timing, not because your book was not wonderful. And that reviews are really one person's opinion. There have been books that every other reviewer on the planet has loved and I've loathed. I've championed books that other reviewers have dismissed. So who is right? (I'm dying to say me, but that's just not so.) Of course, this is the kind of thing I tell myself when I get a review that isn't cause for celebration.

Before I was at People, my last novel, Girls in Trouble, was slated for a People review. I was thrilled! Everyone was thrilled! They called for me to take a photo and FedEx it to them the next day! I had Jeff take pictures of me standing on our front stoop, an urban landscape, and I was freezing in a little red velvet blouse because it was winter! (The People photo is on my website on the bio page, I think-)And then I waited. And Waited. I bought the magazine every week and the review never ran. I was sure it was because the review had been so awful they hadn't wanted to run it. But now that I'm at People, I know that many books are reviewed, but space, timing, and a whole lot of other factors all go into what the editors decide to run, and that many four star reviews I wrote for the magazine never saw themselves in print.

So I try. I try to give press to the books that might not get it otherwise, and I'm trying now to give press to books on my blog with author q and as, and my personal Ya Hoo Go and Read This Book Immediately! On my blog, I break the reviewer rule and I'll give press to people I know (with full disclosure, of course.)

It's a tough world out there and books need every bit of help they can get.

Buzz your book!

I'm a huge fan of M J Rose. She's a talented writer and a wonderful friend, but she also has this great biz, called AuthorBuzz.com which really helps writers get their book out there. It's four years old, and in the last two weeks alone, Author Buzz had four books on the bestseller list

Authorbuzz gets the news out to 350,000 plus readers, 10,000 librarians and 3,000 booksellers. What does 350,000 plus readers mean? Well librarians love AuthorBuzz so much they are putting the books on their own library websites increasing the weekly potential audience to millions, not just hundred of thousands. They also have blog ad campaignes which can reach millions. Plus, they are starting Blogathons to encourage bloggers to talk up a book. And of course they do creative brainstorming and campagins for radio, move theater and more.


It works brilliantly. Here's the email: Authorbuzzco@aol.com to talk about upcoming titles.

Let us now praise Minnie

It's coming up to an anniversary and I'm missing Minnie.

That's him, on the left, my Vietnamese tortoise who died last year. He was with my for over twenty years, and though I know it seems strange, I adored him. He was about 8" long and 4" wide and like all males, he had this gorgeous ring of orange around his eyes. He made clicking sounds when he was pissed off, which was about 70 percent of the time. He liked to walk around and his favorite toy was a rubber squid he liked to snap at.

By the way, it's a very bad idea to buy or sell turtles and tortoises, because they really belong in the wild, but I found Minnie in a pet store, jammed in a too small tank, and my then boyfriend and I decided we had to rescue him. (We promptly went on to rescue five more turtles. We used to let them roam around our Upper West Side apartment. One of the turtle's passions was to eat the lint off the small rug. )

Owning a reptile is very, very strange and wonderful. We took him to the Turtle Show in the Village where people showed off their reptiles, and in some really weird cases dressed them up (You can't imagine what it is like to see a turtle dressed as Zorro, complete with a little hat and cape. One person put a pink ballerina outfit on their Leopard tortoise--a reptile that is about two feet long and hardly dainty enough to go en pointe.) We visited one guy who kept 75 turtles in his basement, much to his wife's distress, and he crooned, "Michelle, Ma Belle" to his favorite, a little box turtle he lovingly held in his hand.

The boyfriend and I broke up, and I got custody of Minnie, to my great relief. I took Minnie to the curator of reptiles at the Natural History Museum and he admired him and then admonished me for kissing Minnie's shell. (Salmonella! I didn't know!) There were months when Minnie was the only human life inside my tiny apartment beside me, of course, and it was actually a wonderful comfort to see him every time I came into the apartment. When I began to date again, Minnie was my litmus test--love me, love my turtle. I'd walk Minnie in Central Park and on the street in front of my house, where nine times out of ten, some wiseacre would ask, "Oh, is that dinner?"

I miss him. I know this is an odd post, but the heart is a funny muscle.

Writing process

I still don't want to announce my big news until a contract is signed, but I am waking up amazed and happy.

And I'm working on a new novel. Starting a new novel is really hard for a whole variety of reasons. I have the initial idea, which I love, but executing it is going to be really tricky because it jumps about in time. It's like dipping your feet into a huge ocean and you aren't quite sure if that slice of black over there is a shark fin or just the way the light is hitting the water, but if you don't go in the water, you'll never swim.

I'm doing revisions on my last novel, so I can't quite hurl myself full-hearted into this new one, but I want to keep it alive so I try to think about it every day and at least write down a sentence or two, but there is always that terrible fear. Can I do this? Have I taken on something that's beyond me? And of course there are other questions--what is it really about? The what's it about question usually isn't answered untilt he 5th draft for me.

I just told another writer this morning that I only know one writer who "follows her pen", who has no outline or preconceived idea but goes right on ahead and writes her novels and does very well. I look at that in absolutely amazement. How is that possible?

So, what I'm really curious about is how other people start their projects. Are you filled with hope and excitement until you get to the middle of the novel when you lose your way? My last novel took me 4 years to write, and if I could prune that down to two for the next one, I would be so happy! I know part of it was a wrong turn in the storyline (I have a tendency to overstuff the plot) and once I got rid of it, the writing was really easy. Maybe this means showing a synopsis early on for me.

Anyway, I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts, especially fellow strugglers. Screenwriting counts, too.

Allergies and writing world

First, does anyone have any advice about childhood allergies? Max, the light of the universe, has all of a sudden developed allergies. He's been sent home from school twice because the white of his eyes turned red and he had deep purple gashes under his eyes, coughing fits that last into one in the morning. We've been to the doctor three times and have tried a bunch of meds. I'd love to have something natural. My mother is urging us to have him get allergy shots, but both Jeff and I had them as kids, loathed them, and found they didn't help. Anyone want to weigh in on this? Any and all advice will be so appreciated!

This is really hard because I just finished a novel about a young boy who has asthma. In my exhausted state, there is a bit of magical thinking going on--Max doesn't have asthma, thank God, but he does suddenly have these terrible allergies. Did art create life? I know it didn't, and I know it's dangerous to think this way. I'm just very, very tired.

Contest winners!

I want to thank everyone for participating and I've decided that anyone who wants a 2 x 2 watercolor of a coffee cup can have one. Just email me your address at carleavitt@hotmail.com and I will get out my paintbrush. (Frame not included. heh.)


Now here is a poem I love, sent to me by one of the people in my UCLA novel writing class:


Here I Am Exposed Like Everybody

Here I am exposed like everybody,
with one hand already in the other world,
with a subtle cord at my throat
that makes music and draws my blood.
This writing thing is awful—
someday I’ll die of loving someone—
they call it being a poet but it’s being a saint.
We’re not canonized, but we go around
with strange halos over our heads,
at night we sometimes glow brilliantly,
we have conversations with unseen creatures,
we see apparitions all the time,
and we sleep sitting up in the living room.
Our bosses despise us, our fellow workers
laugh at us behind our backs,
and only dogs follow us on the streets.
What I have in common with a saint
or beggar is loving one person above all things,
never having any shoes, and knowing
someday God will come down to do my hair.

…Gloria Fuertes

Gosh no comments and HUGE NEWS

Hey, no comments on the last few posts. What am I doing wrong? OK, maybe it is contest time. Whoever gives the best comment gets either a guest blog here for one day or a little 2x 2 inch hand painted water color from me, and yes, I am open to suggestions for other prizes. No prizes will be given unless there are at least 9 (my lucky number) responses, and it doesn't count if one person writes all nine responses. Well, maybe it does. Of course this could be horribly embarrasing if no one answers at all.

So the question you need to answer for this post is, do you think that creativy and insanity are connected? Is there really a thin line between the two? Serious and flip answers are allowed.

And I have huge and wonderful and amazing news, but I can't say anything until the contract is signed. (Isn't that the most glorious word on the planet, contract?) I'm dazzled with joy.

Grace Paley Film

My friend, the author Leora Skolkin-Smith is in this amazing film that is now in production, Grace Paley: Selected Shorts, about the great Grace Paley. Lilly Rivlin , the filmmaker, followed Grace around and there are beautiful shots of Grace's last weeks. It's unsparing in showing Grace in her cancer, but what is remarkable is to see this little woman talking about the open fields of the farmhouse up there in Vermont, and how she named all her flowers after friends because she was so forgetful. Leora was published by Paley by Glad Day Books, but better than that, she was loved like a daughter by Paley. The film is incredible. What Grace taught was that writing comes from our lives, it pulls out from our sorrows and expresses what life really is.

Here's an amazing poem from Grace's last days.

"Anyone who gets to be
eighty years old says thank you
to the One in charge then immediately begins to complain why
were these years such an historical mess?"

keyboarditus

Well.

Okay.

I bought this kind of condom for the keyboard. A specially made plastic cover that fits like a snug second skin and is supposed to keep the letters from fading so fast. So far, I've noticed that it collects a whole lot of dust, but it seems to do the trick. Just in case, I ordered more press on letters, which the woman at the store assured me were printed with special non-fading ink. (Yes, I know, if I believe that, you have a bridge you can sell me, but I've already bought the Brooklyn Bridge several times.)

I also discovered, after panicking that my hard drive was going or my fan, that the solution was to open the computer and blow out the ten tons of dusts breeding new colonies in there and to stop piling books and papers on top of the computer. It's so quiet now that I can hear myself scream when I am trying to write something brilliant and am only coming up with mediocre at best.


Are there are novelists-slash-screenwriters out there? Does anyone think these are exclusionary categories? Is there a trick about marching fearlessly from one genre into another?

Pen Station

The PEN festival is really exciting and my friend, the writer Leora Skolkin-Smith is going to be blogging about it. What Leora says is true, (and I'm going to paraphrase her here) that it's a time when writers can be "serious" without guilt and fear of being called "Elite-is", to try to cover what is meaningful instead of just what is popular. What's truly central to this discussion is that Europeans and other countries consider the art of story-telling an art, not commerce. One actually sees writing lending itself to themes and issues--evidenced by the simply categories PEN sets up to even introduce these writers. So check out Leora's blog next week!

The Tao of Fertility

Dana Herko is one of the coolest people on the planet. (I put her photo striking for the Writer's Strike up here on this blog a while ago, and here she is again on the left with Dr. Daoshing Ni, or Dr. Dao as he is called in the book.) Not only is she a super producer (for a while she had one of my projects, which is how we met, and a valuable friend (funny, smart, all the great adjectives), but she's also written this book, The Tao of Fertility: A Healing Chinese Medicine Program to Prepare Body, Mind, and Spirit for New Life. (Dana was supposed to be on The Today Show and was bumped by the Pope's Visit. But she will be on this Friday.)

Yep, the book is partly autobiographical, as Dana talks about going through failed adoptions (me, too. See my novel, Girls in Trouble) in vitro, tests, and more. Dr. Dao, descended from more than 70 generations of Taoist masters, is renowned among even high-tech infertility specialists. What's great about the book--besides the voice, the 28 day fertility enhancement program, eating plans, guidelines and more, is that it is also about a philosophy of living.

This is a terrific book about being in balance, about discovering what matters and why. Of course the target audience is women yearning for babies, but the lessons here encompass so much more.

Vitaminland

I have a soft spot for doctors who write--and who practice preventative medicine rather than piling on the drugs. Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Dr. Rob Carlson is both a brilliant doctor and brilliant writer. He's finishing this spectacular medical thriller and while talking about plot and character with him, I couldn't help myself from also peppering him with medical questions, which he very graciously, patiently and generously answered.

It all fascinates me. When I was ill in NYU, I talked the surgeons into letting me stay awake to watch a five hour operation where they were gluing my veins shut! It was the only high point of my 2 1/2 month stay, but I've never forgotten the exhilaration of watching that operation. I read medical journals the way others might leaf through Vogue. To me, advances in insulin therapy jazz me more than the length of the latest designer hemlines.

I've long believed that much of health is preventative. You eat the right stuff, and get the right vitamins and you feel better and live longer. I know it works. I bumped away 90 percent of my once terrible asthma by diet and vitamins. My family is genetically predisposed to high cholesterol (I'm a vegetarian leaning towards vegan and my counts are still borderline) and I was determined not to take the Lipitor my doctor kept suggesting because of all the nasty side effects. Anyway, Rob and his business partner Gary Stanton, at New Health Corporation, have done a lot of research and clinical studies with vitamins and Rob sent me some samples.

I love the vitamins. I love the way I feel. I love the sleep savior which really does destress you (in a healthy way) so you can conk out and feel rested.

So check out the vitamins--and the website which has a lot of interesting medical info. And don't forget to check out Rob's thriller, too, when it hits the shelves.

preview of coming attractions

I know, I know, a film reference. I just got back from Boston and have so much work to do, my head is about to explode. But, but, please stay tuned because I am going to have something up soon about:
1. this amazing book The Tao of Fertility by Dana Herko
2. I want to sing the praises of this literary doctor (he just finished an amazing thriller) who also has a clinically proven preventative line of vitamins that I use.
3. I want to write about Leora Skolkin-Smith's brilliant new film, based on her novel EDGES, that has gorgeous photos to go along with it
4. And of course I want to obsess about my own work and angst. I'm having problems with this script I am writing. Screenwriting is so different than novel writing that some days I just think about dental school.

Suzanne Finnamore, author of Split, speaks up!

I love, love, love this book.

I've already given a rave review in my book column in Dame Magazine to Split, Suzanne Finnamore's (photo by Jerry Bauer, by the way) wonderful new memoir, but I also got the chance to pepper her with questions. Suzanne's book is amazing. Fiercely honest, vulnerable and smart, it should be required reading, plus this book makes you really want to read everything else she might write--grocery list, notes, and further classics.

I heard you read from Otherwise Engaged a long time ago in New York. You (and the voice in that book) seemed so sure of yourself and you were even a little bit cocky in the reading (which is fine, albeit a little intimidating), and though I liked that book a lot, I felt that your voice in Split is very, very different in a really great way. Your voice in Split is a whole lot more vulnerable, more willing to dig deeper (even if it wounds you) and so blazingly honest and brave that I fell in love with the book and was rooting for you by the second sentence. Can you talk about this vulnerability? Was it always there and just not coming through your early work or was it hard-won? What do you think the pros and cons of self-revelation on the page really are?

Well, it brings you to your knees, divorce. (Or I should say, that was my experience.) There is a very real sense of the person you were - the wife and the mother who chooses tomatoes and hangs baby mobiles and thinks about whether she needs bangs-actually dying. It's quite dramatic, but there it is. And so...that woman is gone. The abandonment and the end of what I thought of as my family and my life actually leveled the writer and woman I used to be. And then I went through a kind of initiation, a soul fire - and then a new woman had to emerge. The person who emerged is the woman who wrote Split. Is me.After and during my divorce, the transformation was fierce and painful but it definitely fueled my work and informed my heart. Within two weeks after the split I couldn't eat or read, but I could write. It was the penultimate blessing and curse, but I was sort of husked. And I suppose that in a way, the divorce made me as a writer. A more true, more honest and forthcoming writer. Hopefully a better one. Heaven knows there's room for all sorts of improvement

Is it odd to find yourself considered an expert on divorce? Any new advice or reflections that came after the book was turned in?

Yes, it's very odd being The Divorce Woman but it's also very kind, considering the fact that divorce is my subject matter. You sort of fall into these things when you write a book. This is my third book. Two novels. Then I wrote a memoir on my own marital dissolution and so now, if some readers perceive me as an expert in that dubious field, that's far out. Actually I'd like to serve as a human life preserver pressed between the pages of a book, someone who wafted out and gave other bereft spouses some interesting and amusing news of the other side of divorce.I have some new information, yes: It continues to get better and sweeter, life. And love is available as well. I didn't know it would be possible, love. I thought I was too old, thought I had sworn off it. But it comes and of course you say yes. You must.

You mentioned that you weren't quite at true happiness at the end ofthe book. What about now? Do you even think such a think exists? What are your views on lasting love and marriage now?

I now believe that a solid, lengthy marriage is the greatest accomplishment in any century. True happiness is something one gets on one's own - but it can be heightened by the existence of a mate. So yes, I would get married again, provided I was in my right mind. I would remarry; I might also sky dive at some point, or go to Thailand.Marriage is a country I've been to, and I was captivated and seduced and fully immersed; we had a beautiful wedding full of meaning and love, an ambrosial courtship, an amazing gift of a son planned in love and all the life trimmings. I have tarried in that country; it's a great place. That said (and done), marriage is not a driving impulse any longer. It seems a bit like a flaming desert that one might either enjoy or regret. Slightly more dangerous is how I view marriage, now. More difficult a feat, I guess you'd say. I would be dishonest if I didn't admit this.And it's complex, as a single mother. My son is nine years old and so happy and so deep into his own life and our structure...and although he doesn't mind a male visitor...well, he has actually informed me that he like things just the way they are. Right now my son feels that he would like very much to have me all to himself. He feels another man in the house would complicate his fiefdom; I can't say I blame him. But there is hope just over the horizon. In a few years he won't want to see me at all unless I'm serving a large quantity of pie, handing him cash or preparing grilled cheese sandwiches with my back to him, silent as a scullery maid.

For me, part of the pleasure of this book was the expansiveness of it. You start with no-one-ever-leaving the-house-again kind of grief which evolves into a cosmic reflection--walking up a hill to notice a comet that appears once ever 78 years, a rare and brief event that nonetheless is worth every nanosecond. Are you still in that philosophical place now or has that morphed?

Oh I'm extremely philosophical. Each year I become more light, more myself. You relax into your new life, you enjoy the scenery. Love returns to your heart and you find it in the world and in your revised family. But - and this is awfully nice -- I don't feel as though my survival depends on what my next move is. My mother, Bunny, says that about my divorce: You survived. This seems to be all that's required, that my son and I are whole and well. I regained my natural balance, I have large pleasure at being alive and a mother and a woman who writes.Yes. You survive, you keep the house if you can, you hang on to what matters. I bought my ex husband out of our house and hung onto it by the slimmest of margins. It was a miracle. In the end one tries not to be bitter or sad because that is wasted lifeblood. I can't afford to look back that way, it's like what Bette Davis said: "When you look back, you relax your vigil."

What are you working on now, fiction or non-fiction and why?

I'm about five hundred page into a very long and meandering text about what happens after you realize you're single again and you come back into your own as a woman, as a social and sexual being. I went on the Internet and did that whole Internet dating scene, and I basically got a lifetime supply of these really great men. And so my next project is about how to do that, and what wonderful adventures appear on the road after divorce. Magnificent surprises, actually, very sweet stuff. The working title of the manuscript..."Back Out There." I don't have to tell you what I mean by that! Anyone who has ever been married knows what being Back Out There signifies. And I wish everyone well and thank you so much for reading my book.

Off to Boston and contestorama

We're off to Boston to visit my mother and go on the Swanboats (When I was 5, I was in love with a boy named Michael who ate all the peanuts instead of giving them to the real swans swimming by us. God, I got started early loving bad boys!)

Meanwhile, I am desperately trying to finish a script so I can enter the Nicholl Fellowships. Awards are funny things. I've won some awards and competitions, lost a LOT, and I got to judge the MidAtlantic Arts Fiction Competition a few years ago, which made me feel a whole lot better (and worse) about the whole process.

You are faced with six hundred 20 page entries to read. It's overwhelming. For one whole day, six of us got together to discuss our favorites, but almost every time, nobody agreed. In the end, did the stories I wanted to win win? Two did. TWO. I don't remember how many other people won, but there were at least ten. But it broke my heart because the real talent I saw didn't even place because I was the only one championing it. (It happens. A friend reminded me that Little Miss Sunshine didn't win the Nicholls.)

So, I'm curious. Anyone out there ever judged one of these? Ever won the Nicholls? Have a better attitude about contests than I do?

On another tangent--the press-on letters I bought for my keyboard because the letters wear off in six weeks....they are wearing off. I'm so disheartened. Next up, I'm trying plastic keyboard covers. I just pound the keys too hard so I'm not certain those are going to work either. Someone previously told me it has to do with acid in your fingertips, but I can't imagine wearing surgical gloves to type.

OK, gotta go pack!

Let's hear it for The Rouge Wave

My screenwriter friend Jeff Lyons very supportively listens to a great deal of my angst every day via email and helps keep me on track and gently yells at me if I whine too much, which I'm hopeful is not as often as I think it is. So when he told me about The Rouge Wave and Julie Gray, I not only listened, I moseyed right over there to check it out.

That's a smashing photo of Julie above, and her site is smart, cool, and wonderful-and so is she. Screenwriter, YA novelist and fiction writer, she's also a founder of The Script Department which is an uber cool site which has this incredible feature I wish they had for novelists. You sign up and tell them your deadlines and then they NAG you to finish on time. The Script Department is made up of writers and script readers, who also give very reasonable script coverage at all different levels--smart, to the point, and very, very helpful. Because I have been struggling with a script based on a notorious essay of mine (lotsa film interest in the essay but there seems to be a disconnect with my script) I'm seriously considering this.

Anyway, in today's Rouge Wave, there were incredible tips about hooks and loglines, and it actually solved one of my script problems. The writing is fresh and funky, plus I dare anyone to resist a blog with photographs of cupcakes. I was deeply comforted that she said scripts can be rejected for reasons that are sound and for reasons that are baloney. I also love her advice: Stop whining and write.

The truth is, I would like Julie to move in next door, but the next best thing is her blog. Go check it out. As for me, I'm starting Chapter two tomorrow and hammering out a new logline. And yes, I am stopping whining and writing until I see blood on the page.

See you later, alligators.

A tale of two novels

The creative process can be really confounding. I now have two novels that I want to do, but I really need to just concentrate on one. And I've been making myself crazy.

It's dangerous, I think, for any writer to start thinking things like 1. which idea will sell better? 2. which idea will my agent and editor like best? And yep, I was deep in that kind of thinking until some writer friends (this is why it's important to have friends who are in the trenches with you) set me straight. You have to write from your heart. You have to write what you want to write, what you want to read, what gets at you and if you do it truthfully and honestly, it will get to others, too. So I am hunkering down into writerland and working myself into a fever.

see you later alligators.

Alan Corey, creative genius

Alan Corey wrote a book I really liked called A Million Bucks by Thirty. I raved about it in The Boston Globe because it was really funny and hip and also had some good advice, and while obsessively googling this morning, came across this hilarious montage Corey did on his blog. I had mentioned in my review that although I loved his work I wouldn't want to hang out with him (he pinches his pennies very tightly, that's all I meant) so he put us together in cyberspace.

I love this. Especially the pirate hat.

Earring-o-rama

This photo doesn't begin to show off how gorgeous these earrings are. The bottom is silver and intricate and the top beads are this shimmering wine color. I adore them with a passion. They're from Hey Lady Designs by Gina sorell, who is a talented author and as you can, see a master earring maker, too!

Baby Caroline

Everything my husband sees this shot, he insists that I am saying, "Hmmmm, should I write a novel or should I obsess about something?" As you can see, even at that tender age, my hair was still doing its own unruly thing....

When is an idea too weird?

I've been working on a new novel when out of the blue, two other ideas sprang up. One is really grabbing me, and I'm too superstitious to talk about it here, but it's very, very odd. Think odd in the sense of Time Traveler's Wife (except I may be the only person on the planet who didn't love that novel.) I don't know if I can pull it off. I don't know if my agent will like it--or any editor. I've written novels before that bridge the gap between reality and a curiosity about what is and isn't real (Lifelines was about the struggle of a daughter to come to terms with her mother's being a medium--hey, it got starred PW and Kirkus because it was really about one of my favorite themes--identity. Are we who we think we are? I bridged that sense of strangeness in writing Lifelines by making it never quite clear whether or not the mother had a real gift or not--though she certainly felt she did and lived her life that way.)

I think I'm going out of my comfort zone and I'm a little unnerved and scared, which is probably the right way to feel. But what if that unease means this is not a path I should be taking?

creativity and its contents and oh baby

First, here is a detail of the brass with inlaid bugs and jewels switchplate in jeff's office (the paint needs to be cleaned off the top a bit, but this is a very cool switch plate. His office is this mustard color which isn't showing up. Above is the alcove under the skylight with a cool black ladder and Miles Davis poster.

I'm just coming out of bronchitus and I've been doing nothing but working on my novel and juggling some new novel ideas and rewriting a script. Last night I couldn't sleep at at four in the morning I began thinking of quantum physics and different universes and how there really is no time and made myself panicked. And--In the midst of this flurry of activity and this creative and hallucinatory work, Max has composed the music and lyrics for a song, and we painted the inside of our 1865 rowhouse. So, of course, the final creative yearning for me is.....for a baby.

I know, I know.

I can't have any more kids because I'm too old now and anyway my first pregnancy jumpstarted a deadly one in a million blood disorder (see my novel Coming Back to Me and numerous articles--and it's all resolved and won't ever come back unless I need a million transfusions all at once) and we tried to adopt a few years ago (See my novel Girls in Trouble) so I think my best shot is for someone to deposit a baby on our doorstep. I know we can't possibly afford this, I know it's not a great idea, and I know if we had a baby here I'd be way too exhausted. I still remember 5 AM feedings, night terrors, and having mashed banana on everything I own, including in my mop of hair. But, but, but, there is something intoxicating about the idea.

But wait, there's more! I also want to cook all day today, and knit and rearrange everything in my office. One bit of creative spark is starting a fire. Does this happen to others?

I think I'm going to go to the bookstore with Max and give and get extra kid-sized hugs from him. And a brownie.

Let's hear it for the boy take 400

Guess who got his first cell phone and knows how to use it?

Me and my bronchitis on the radio tonight

I'm thrilled to announce that I am going to be on Calling All Authors tonight, along with authors Barbara Abecrombie, Victoria Zackheim, Margot Duxler and Aimee Liu to talk about our essays in Victoria Zackheim's anthology, For Keeps.

The call-in number for listeners is:1(605) 475-6006 ACCESS CODE 763624#
The show is on the air today at:7PM Central time.

To listen to it later, go to www.globaltalkradio.com/shows/callingallauthors

Firefighter writer

Holly Volz is amazing. She's a firefighter and a writer and she's just completed a manuscript about her life called Going In that is truly fascinating. "Fire does whatever the hell it wants," Holly says, and reading her book made me think about flames (and firefighters) a whole lot differently than I did before. The haunting photo on the left is from her website, which also has an excerpt from her book.

All I can say is I wish Holly lived closer than Indiana because I'd love to travel along with her for a day.

cough cough

Bronchitus has struck. Antibiotic city. Working on scripts, novel, class. Can't even write a full sentence, but I feel disjointed and dizzy like the photo on the left. But the good news is the house is gorgeous and after four days with the TV out and all four computers stuck on dial-up, things are back in order.

I'm going to get ginger tea and watch a movie. See you later alligators.

House-a-rama

The house is done! To the left is the bedroom which actually is about five shades darker than this picture, but at least you can see some of the details--the house is from 1865, and when we bought it, it was covered in wood paneling (the tackiest kind imaginable), all the ceilings were lowered, and all the fireplaces were hidden. This particular room was covered in orange shag carpeting, which we ripped out immediately and revealed wide plank wood floors. The light is actually a brass chandelier (the previous owners painted it black. Don't ask me why. We were about to toss it when we got a bit of ZipStrip on it, and suddenly there was brass) The intricate mouldings (you can't see the big rosette in this photo but you can see the openwork mouldings along the ceiling) were the one thing that the previous owners left alone. Oh, and above the marble fireplace? The old owners had installed a totally mirrored surface--the kind with webs of faux gold. We took that off immediately, too.

I keep wandering the rooms and I love the colors so much I want to marry them. I've never had a home that I've cared for so much. When I lived in Manhattan, I loved my postage stamp apartment but I never decorated or cared for it, and never kept anything other than a tin of yogurt and water in the fridge. I feared moving to a house, too, even one in as urban an environment as Hoboken. I didn't want to be a domesticated person (oh fool that I was!) and for a long time I couldn't call it a house. I had to call it a brickstone, or a rowstone. Now, of course, I am no longer foolish--at least not about that--and our next project is new blinds, which will probably cost as much as going to dental school.

A while ago I was bemoaning how rapidly the letters on my keyboards fade. Someone wrote in and told me it was probably the acid in my skin. I ordered these press on letters, which look cool, but they are so large and so bright that it is a tad annoying. Worse, once on, they don't come off. Has anyone used these? If they stay on, then it's absolutely worth it. But will they?

The lost diaries

Moving a desk for the painters (three more days to go), I found three diaries that I had been keeping for a woman who was my first friend when I moved to NYC. She had an even tinier apartment than I did, right across the hall and I spent most of my time camped out on her couch until I got my bearings. She took care of me when I arrived, crumbled from my divorce. She took care of me when my fiance died. We leaned on each other for support. But oh, what great times we had! She always found cheap tickets to Broadway, to the ballet, to any sold out show and she and I crashed the parties that turned out to be revelations rather than just fun.

She was funny and smart.

She was amazing.

And then, five years into our friendship, she had a full blown psychotic breakdown. Diagnosed late onset schizophrenic. She attacked a child, demanding to see his ID. She punched a professor in the face and drew blood. She thought the government had spies out after her and she nearly caused an accident on the California freeway because she thought spies were trying to drive her off the road. And then she was hospitalized and medicated.

She's been in and out of hospitals for years now and the last I saw her, she was delusional and paranoid, sure people were following her. She blamed me. She yelled at me and then stepped out into NYC traffic while I, screaming, tried to grab at her. She jumped into a cab and that night called me to tell me that she didn't want to talk to me anymore. I was so upset I went to a shrink myself to figure out how I could help her. ("You can't," was the answer.)

So yesterday, I sat on the floor among all my boxes and read her journals (she always said I could) and it was an ache in my heart.

I don't know where she is anymore. I don't know how she is.

I've been wanting to write about her for years, which is something she always wanted. I suppose I want to do this to try and heal that wound, but I can't find the way into the story. Maybe it's just too soon or maybe I just want to still protect her. Maybe I feel guilty that I couldn't save her. Maybe it's my next novel or maybe I should mind my own business and be silent.

Does writing heal? Writers want to write about what is often a thorn in the heart, but what if it involves someone else's pain (as well as your own)? What do you do then?

A paint break!

There's Rod Serling Conference! Don't you want to go? And they are having a Twilight Zone marathon!

Ack! The painters are here!

1. Take deep breath.
2. Don't panic. The colors chosen are great.
3. Breathe paint fumes. Think about four days of this, six if you count the weekend.
4. Panic at the amount of dirt and dust behind book shelves that haven't been moved in 14 years.
5. Worry that the feng shui is all messed up.
6. Worry that I won't be able to write.
7. Think about going out for every single meal which perks me up immeasurably.

Another cool paint job

Isn't this fantastic? This is from one of the writers in my UCLA class, Viva Barkowski. She says it was painted for a nursery, but she loved it so much (how inspirational can you get?) that she's kept it. I would love to write in a space like this!

Please, do NOT think pink--we need beauty in this bath

Ok, we have three gorgeous blue swatches in the bedroom, I chose for my office, Max's room is this buttery yellow and Jeff's office is beachy. But this second tiny bathroom is making me crazy. It's got an old fashioned pedestal sink with cool handles, a gorgeous wood framed medicine chest, and the tiles are sort of peach, the stuff with the three paint samples is textured--sort of wainscotting. We can't change those tiles, but the pink has got to go. Any suggestions? Obviously the three samples painted on are not working.

Five Chapters

Several years ago I did tag team fiction for the fabulous David Daley which was in The Journal News. Tag team was an innovative idea where two writers were paired and one wrote the first half of a story and one wrote the other. The story I wrote with Rochelle Shapiro is on my website.

Now, David's doing something even more spectacular. Five Chapters rolls out a short story in serial form through the week. He's got an incredible roster of writers, and I was invited to submit. (OK, I emailed him and begged, but still--)

Go check it out.

One writer's very cool office

Rachel Rappaport sent me this really cool photo of her workspace, which really ramped up my desire to throw some color on my walls. Many, many thanks, Rachel! The green is so refreshingly wild and I also really love the lamp. I could write a novel in this space!

Rachel also runs a really fantastic food blog, Coconut & Lime . You can find all sorts of incredible and inventive recipes, from Japanese to vegan to Korean, and everything has a delectable edge.

And photographer and pal Susan Benjamin just told me that she has the same problem with her keyboards. It has something to do with the acid or alkaline properties of your skin and she swears that if I paint the keys with some sort of plastic coating, I should be able to hang onto my keyboard for more than three weeks. (As i type, my H is gone and my I, and my N has just said sayonara.) I'm trying this.

Color confusion

There are four shades of blue in my office. Our bedroom has four shades of a different blue dabbed on the wall. The bathroom is a riot of try-out shades and none of the colors Jeff liked work in his office. I have paint on my fingernails and probably in my hair. I wish an interior decorator would show up and say, "Yes! This is the perfect color!"

I think I've lived in a white wall environment for far too long.

My friend Jimmy, an architect, has two bits of wisdom he's been repeating to me since we were 18:
1. Don't be afraid of color. (He's right on this.)
2. Don't destroy the natural beauty of the hand with rings. (He's wrong on this one.)

Does anyone know how you can tell from a swatch on the wall what the full-room color is really going to look like? Also, if anyone wants to come over and choose the colors for us, I'll cook dinner and that includes chocolate mousse for dessert.

On a related problem. I seem to be destroying my keyboards at a tremendous rate. I type so fast and so hard that I wear out the letters on the keyboard in weeks. Does anyone else have this problem?

READ THIS BOOK

My friend Leslie Lehr has written a fabulous new novel, Wife Goes On. The novel is as wonderful as Leslie is, (both brim with character) and I decided Leslie had to talk about her book here.

Wife Goes On is the story of four women with nothing in common except divorce, who find that it’s more than enough to be friends.

Leslie, why did you write this particular novel?
I wanted to write something funny and romantic, but with all the drama of real life, so these women run the gamut from Diane, an MBA turned PTA Supermom, whose husband gambled away their home, and a former homecoming queen with two babies and an abusive ex jock husband, to a recovering actress hiding in plain sight following the public humiliation of her superstar husband’s affair, and a hotshot divorce lawyer who lost custody of her daughter and has to pay alimony as well. The word “divorcee” is as false a cliché as the term “Chick lit.” This is the story of complex women searching for happiness – and finding it.

I want to paint a positive face on divorce, lose the stigma. Despite the numbers, there is still a stigma - if only from that fear of failure inside us. Who doesn’t dream of the white dress and the fairy tale ending? My parents had an ugly divorce and I didn’t want to follow in their footsteps, so I spent a good ten years resisting the “D” word. No matter how easy the statistics make it look, when you have children, it’s not remotely easy. It’s heartbreaking. I wrote an essay about how hard it was to make the decision, (“Welcome to the Club”) for an anthology called, The Honeymoon’s Over. Then one day, I woke up so happy – it was like I got a Do Over card. I recognized the old me in the mirror. Maybe I made some poor decisions early on, but this is my life! I get to try again!

I did some research and found statistics that implied that women are happier after divorce mainly because we are better educated and have work experience – but I didn’t buy it. It’s really tough financially for most women. The laws have caught up with our professional degrees in terms of potential earnings, but most of us have been too busy running home for softball games to make that kind of money. I was no exception. So there had to be another reason. Then I realized that my mom’s generation, often still bitter, was ashamed to talk about it, to air their dirty laundry Now we wash it together. Going through this with my friends made all the difference in the world. I felt so strong, I wished I hadn’t been so afraid for so long. Instead of crying to my friends, I wanted to celebrate with them. And I want people to see there is a light at the end of the tunnel – and it’s not another train. It’s the bright sun in a blue sky.


So what's the deep down message in your book?
That you are not alone. Sometimes you feel so alone when you are married that it seems like that feeling will never go away. But it does. You just have to allow yourself to get through the grief process – a dream has died, after all - and friends can help you do that. You know that rule of wing-walking: don’t let go of one airplane until you have hold on another? A lot of women do that, go from one man to another. But I think it’s really important to find out who you are and be happy with yourself, to free fall a bit and look around. Later, there will be so many airplanes to choose from, you’ll make a better decision.

So let your friends give you that vital emotional connection. They can help you define yourself and gain the confidence that you have value. Often they are waiting for a signal, so reach out for help. It doesn’t have to be one group of friends, either. The characters in Wife Goes On would never be friends if not for this emotional connection of recognizing the mutual experience. Different women provide different kinds of friendship, from a hiking buddy, to a crying buddy, to a talk about sex buddy, to a single one who wants to go dancing, or a married one who can go to a matinee. Also, the legal process has such a huge learning curve. Often, you need a simple answer that doesn’t cost a million dollars an hour. Then the information is wasted - unless you help the next person along. You begin to recognize other women who need you. As you gain friends, you learn how to be one. Like the Girl Scout song, “make new friends but keep the old; some are silver and the others gold.” I like to put it another way: Husbands may come and go, but friends are forever.

What's the buzz on the book?
I’m celebrating all over the country. Cake and champagne on my book tour! My new website, www.wife-goes-on.com, has questions for book clubs, a contest, a joke of the week, and a place for women to share success stories. Friends are helping me put on a benefit at this great spa in Ventura to help women starting over. My brother-in-law made a cute no-budget video, and my kids are teaching me how do MySpace. Plus, I’ll be on panels at places like the LA Times Festival of Books.


How did the writers’ strike affect you?
I had to stop working on an original movie for Lifetime. It was my first union job, so I was hugely in favor of the strike, but this was a really funny second draft, so it was awful to work so hard and not be able to turn it in. Or get paid. It was right before Christmas, so the timing was bad, but in another way, the timing was good, because I had time to enjoy my family and to focus on Wife Goes On.

You, lucky one, have a movie, Welcome to Club Divorce.
It’s the story of one women, a really current take on what its like today, in 2008, to have a sizzling second act. It’s a custom story for Lifetime, who, as you can see from their new shows, is expanding from being the number one cable channel for women to being a source of original programming with a rich sense of story telling. My project will evolve as everyone gets back to work, but for comparison sake, the reviewer who said that Wife Goes On is an updated version of First Wives Club meets Sex in the City, would say that “Welcome to Club Divorce” is Lifetime’s response to “Starter Wife.”

Do you have another novel in the pipeline?
Yes, a novel called, The Long Way Home, about a mother who goes to such lengths to protect her teenage daughter that she loses her – and everything else. I actually started this novel earlier, but when Wife Goes On bubbled up, I had to put that aside. I’m excited to go back and give it a happy ending.

What’s the best tip you could give a person starting out as a writer?
Read. When I teach in the Writers Program at UCLA, I’m always amazed at how little people read. You don’t have to be limited to the classics, read everything: books, newspapers, cereal boxes. Don’t be afraid to not finish a book, there’s plenty more out there and something is bound to speak to you, be it for the characters or the story or the voice. The more you read, the easier it will be to learn the ebb and flow of storytelling and find your own style.
And read a ton of books on writing. Every artist constantly hones her craft. Anatomy of Story is my current fave; the author is brilliant. Besides, what’s more fun than reading about what you love to do?

What’s the best thing and worst thing about being a writer?
The best thing is: you can always be working.
The worst thing is: you can always be working.

Let's hear it for the Boy!

My accomplishments pale next to those of my son, Max's. Now 11, he is heading on the directorial trail. He and his friend Mike have just started M and M Productions and they are beginning their first film. My friend, screenwriter and story guru Jeff Lyons (storygeeks.com) suggests that this high octane team should do all our movies, and if he refuses, I can play the mom card and send him to his room! (Max, I won't do that! I promise!)

Anyway, here is his very first video for Youtube, a picture paraody of one of his fave songs. I hope everyone will go see it and support young talent and even post a comment.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=NDzggGp2B9U

Breaking news, sort of

I'm excited to report that I have some events coming up. Ya hoo!

1. Calling All Authors Radio Show
Wednesday, March 26th7:55 Eastern Time
I will be talking about my essay, Belly Wars from the anthology For Keeps. The essay, first published in Salon, is about a year of terror for me when I was critically ill and looked horrific--and how I discovered the real meaning and depth of beauty. No, I will not be posting photographs of what I looked like for that one terrifying year, so please don't keep asking.

2. Canadian TV, CTVglobemedia
Filming in May, Show date to be announced-stay tuned. They are going to film in my home, so this means I won't have to dress up and I can get away without having to do Today Show hair and makeup (even though that was fun, mind you.) It will be a portrait of the artist as a neurotic and I'll be talking about the above essay and my infamous Cassandra essay which was in The Other Woman, New York Magazine, staged with other essays at the NYC Player's Club, and now has film interest.

3. Backspace Writers Conference
August 9, 9-9:45 I'll be speaking along with novelist Leora Skolkin-Smith, Details to follow when we figure out/firm up what we are going to talk about.

Office Politics

I've made the huge decision to paint my office! This has been 14 years without paint and the white is going and I think it's going to be icy blue.


I'm fascinated by writers workspaces. Are their office neat, messy? Do they have talismans? My office is on the top floor and used to look out on the World Trade Center towers. I've got about 75 snowdomes on a file cabinet, a huge bulletin board stuffed with picture, books everywhere on every surface. Most of the books have post-its so I can tell what their pub date is and when I need to read them for review. There's a clock whose face is a Halloween shot of Jeff, Max and I in costume, which doesn't work (I love it, and refuse to take it down), A Malibu Barbie with a broken leg, and various plastic purses from the 50s that my mother-in-law gave me. are wedged into one of my two big bookshelves. I have an old rocker that I bought and love, a couch I nap on when I'm overwhelmed, an eliptical trainer so I can stay skinny and two of my favorite things. One is a picture Max drew when he was in kindergarten that says, "That's Mommy! She's telling me a secret! It's a surprise! I can't tell you!" And one is a photograph of me when I was six, sitting on the stoop with my mother on my way to camp. I have bangs and a little ponytail and I don't look happy (I hated camp) and the caption, in my six-year-old squiggle says, "Here I am (caroline) raddy to go to camp with Mommy."

So what does your workspace look like? Are you neat? Messy like me? If anyone sends in photos, I will post them. (Of course now I risk embarrassment because if no one sends anything in, it means no one is reading this post!) Oh well, what's a little risk? I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

The way to a girl's heart is Peeps

We've just come back from a weekend at our friends' country house, complete with fireplace, kids, videos, snow, wine at dinner (not for the kids), and Peeps.

Ok, let me clarify. The way to MY heart is with Peeps, those sugary delectable marshmallow candies that come in all varieties of colors (none found in nature, mind you.) I am so dedicated to these candies that we went to visit a Peeps show (no, not a PEEP show, that's something different.) I'm a purist so these cocoa bunnies (Just Born! says the label) are not as cool as the chicks, but I've already polished two.

The only other candy that compares is SkyBars, which can be found only in Boston.