fun with mom. (snippets from the cell phone)

[scripty]
PAMIE
Mom. Mom! Richard Grieco just walked into this coffeeshop.

MOM
Who? Oh. From 90210.

PAMIE
21 Jump Street.

MOM
Which one was he, again?

PAMIE
Booker. He’s the one who was not Johnny Depp. … Which I bet he hears all the time, including in his nightmares. He had the spin-off, remember? Booker?

MOM
I don’t think I watched that show.

PAMIE
Oh, you know who would have loved this? Dad. Remember he used to always tease me for watching that show. Well, I don’t know if he was teasing, or if he really just liked saying Booker over and over again in that weird voice.

MOM
Yeah, I didn’t watch it. I don’t like Shatner.

PAMIE
… No, Mom, that’s… that’s TJ Hooker.

MOM
Well, what did you say?

PAMIE
I said Booker.

MOM
What?

PAMIE
Booker.

MOM
Why are you saying it like that?

PAMIE
Because he’s standing right next to me! I’m trying to be quiet!

MOM
I can’t stand Shatner.

PAMIE
Not TJ Hooker, Ma. Booker.

MOM
I remember now. I didn’t watch that show, either.

PAMIE
No, you didn’t. Anyway, that dude’s standing right next to me.

MOM
I just don’t know why anybody likes Shatner.
[/scripty]

do you want to know a secret?

I just wrote three hundred words of the next novel, so you know it’s time to procrastinate with so many more words over here. Because it’s easier, okay? Leave me alone! I’m trying to be an artist!

So. The Festival of Books. Yeah, yeah. I know. It was a month ago. Let me see if I can remember anything.

I took Sara with me because

a) she’s geeky enough to appreciate it,
b) had a friend/mentor speaking on another panel,
c) lived over there and
d) takes pity on me almost as much as she supports me in my endeavors.

The night before we stayed up late on the phone looking over the roster, deciding if we were going to attend any other panels. I scanned name after name of authors and then stopped at one.

“S.E. Hinton! S.E. Hinton is going to be there!”

There was a pause before Sara asked, “And I guess that makes you happy?”

She had no idea. Continue reading

an actual holiday weekend

This is the closest I’ve come to work in five days. The last time I took a break from work for more than part of a day… I think was my honeymoon. My honeymoon was also the last time I read a whole book in a day. Which since yesterday? I did. I missed the ocean, though. I showed Mom and Bosie pictures from the honeymoon and started getting nostalgic. Then yesterday morning when I opened up the bottle of sunscreen (because it was very sunny and windy out and I was going to be running for more than an hour), the smell of Maui hit me with the warm breeze and the SPF and a little, sad tear fell from my eye. I got an email from Faye — who got married pretty close to when we did and we all ended up coincidentally at the same hotel in Maui — asking if we were all accidentally meeting up again this year, because it sounds like such a lovely-rich-people-thing to do, accidentally vacation together every year. And perhaps we’ll call it “on holiday.” Continue reading

lattes of the rich and the famous…

The constant social disconnect that is Hollywood can be fun, but it can also get frustrating. I’m at a Starbucks staring at a man who is either:

A) Someone I met recently and had like, a single conversation with, which means I met him at a party, or I had a meeting with him, or he worked on the pilot somehow for a day…

or, more likely,

B) Someone who was recently on television or in the movies. Continue reading

Going Outside

I’ve been having some email problems, so if you’ve emailed me recently and I’ve taken way too long to get back to you, know that I’m either going to email you back or I just lost the damn thing entirely. That appears to be the one growing pain in the site move, and the guys hosting me are working on it as fast as they can.

The company I went with is called Myrmid, and so far they’ve been more than excellent at answering all of my questions, taking time to talk to me immediately, and made me feel right at home. They were recommended by the guy who runs 8-bit Theater, and he couldn’t say enough good things about them, so there you go. If you’re looking for hosting with real people who treat you as a human being and not a stack of fifties, then tell ’em I sent you.

Continue reading