High heels and writing are not for the timid.

Writing means exposing your thoughts, past embarrassments, faults--whatever it takes to make your characters come alive. Saying this, I'm not admitting to everything that is true in my book. You can guess.

The next hurtle--editing--means chipping and shaping your raw story into a diamond. Or so you think until your friends and fellow writers find more carbon than carats. With a deep breath and courage--found somewhere near the base of your spine--you polish the manuscript until it's ready for general viewing.

Then you send it out to agents who "regret to say", "it's not for us", "I just didn't love it." Your name is now "Dear Author". Your courage slips and it's like you've falling off your high heels.

Luckily there's a secret to dancing in high heeled shoes--- two glasses of wine.

Back to Writing

When a writer doesn't write, well, a writer isn't a writer.

It's back to writing for me. (Yes, I'm still selling my book "JustMe:".) 

The Anit-Valentine

I can't say I love Valentine's Day. If you have no one -you feel bad. If your sweetie doesn't live up to the romantic ideal as advertised on television - you feel bad. And why would anyone buy chocolates at full price when one day later they are fifty per cent off? And what is it about stuffed animals as gifts to women? If you have a sweetie you don't need a teddy bear to hug. And where does a grown woman put a stuffed animal-- does a pink bear match your decor? Fight against this card company induced holiday, ignore the the florists' sales pitch, and have fun with your sweetie anyway you want. If you haven't got anyone at the moment, treat yourself. May I suggest JustMe:. No one has more difficulty than Elizabeth in snagging a sweetie. So know you're in good company. Fight against Valentine's Day, treat yourself, and buy your chocolates at half price. You're a sweetie just the way you are.

Stray Thoughts

Don't check the date on your hot fudge sauce after you've poured it on your sundae.

What an Eizabeth thing to think. Writing JustMe: and being in Elizabeth's head was great fun. I wrote every funny stray thought that came to me without worrying about being polite, politically correct, or hurtful. Then I published JustMe: and started to worry. Elizabeth isn't all sweetness. Would readers like her? Would they get her sense of humor?

According to Elizabeth:

"I've learned I can't get by with my charm. My father would probably charge me rent."
"Women talk to think. it's how we understand what we're thinking-- we have to hear it said."
"My mother has been complaining of her so-called invisibility for years, if she was quieter Dad and I might have chance at ignoring her into nonexistence."
"Civility is easier to achieve if you eat first."

Why read JustMe:?

For the characters.
While JustMe: is Elizabeth's story, she is surrounded by people as quirky (and more so) than your own friends and family. So who do readers like best?
No surprise to Melanie and me, Jessie is getting the majority of the votes. We love Jessie too. Jessie, a hermaphrodite, is first a work acquantance of Elizabeth's and then a friend and for a short time, an apartment mate. Like Elizabeth she tries to fit in by being what people expect her to be, but this means hiding who she is. She tries on different guises -- a woman, a lesbian, an homosexual, a cross-dresser, a man. But as she says she doesn't belong to any team.  Like Elizabeth, she is searching for who she is. Jessie's caring and sensitive nature has won readers's hearts. And we root for her.

By the way, the picture is from the 2010 Blobfest.

Merry Christmas

Yes, I have a tree decorated to match my book. After thirty or so trees, I do start running out of themes and color schemes. I like to decorate trees as much as I like to write. But since Christmas comes but once a year, isn't it lucky I have more than one passion. Also great has been the comments I've been getting from people who have read my book. Usually they laugh, repeat a line from the book, and tell me how true it is. It seems we all have the same wicked thoughts we're too polite to speak aloud.

Who is Elizabeth?

I wrote JustMe: thinking that Elizabeth was like my daughter Melanie--not the same but of like mind. The mom in the book was based on me. Readers who know me say Elizabeth's not so sweet, but hopefully humorous asides sound more like me. But believe me, I'm far from my twenties and Elizabeth's energy and urgent dreams. Melanie has assured me that she could (sometimes) see herself in Elizabeth but it was through the author's (mine) filter. That would make Elizabeth Melanie with an overlay of Pam. Yikes! According to Melanie the mom in the book is nicer than me. For me she is like looking in a rear view mirror. The image is recognizable but not quite right. How do people write autobiograghies? At least fiction is truthful about being a set of lies.