I’m re-posting some of my Tweet-Sneaks of Misguided Angel. For those not following me on Twitter because not everyone is on social media. Although I think with the new Facebook App my publisher has built for Blue Bloods I might have to cave and join Facebook finally!
She got right to the point. “You know where they are.”
“We should get back,” Schuyler whispered. They didn’t have time for this. No time for love; for each other.
Tomasia kept her position, waiting for the creature to come to her, to walk into the trap they had laid.
Posted on September 30th, 2010
I only post photos were I look OK or Shots from Toronto
Some photos from Toronto and the Teen Read Awards. I would add an exclamation point but I feel like too many of my blogs are too shouty already.
I am turning 40 next year and seriously, it feels like I was 28 forever and then one day, like, next year, I’ll wake up and be freaking 40! WHY GOD WHY??? How can I be 40? I can’t even remember my 30s! I mean, I turned 30 and I was engaged, and we were celebrating my birthday at this bar at the MeatPacking district with a huge group of our friends, and this was when the Meat-Packing was still cool, not tranny-prosty-cool as it was in the 90s, but also not the Miami Beach travesty it’s since become. Anyway, my 30th birthday was right before 9/11 and I was supposed to celebrate with my BFFs from college, who were turning 30 a week after me. The three of us were supposed to have this massive blowout and we were in the middle of planning it when the world ended. So instead of our crazy party we decided to all just get drinks at a bar downtown and it was that brief moment when NYC felt like Beirut, partying while the bombs fell, and it was good, because we were all still alive, and we were freaking freaked out but we were still New Yorkers and yeah. Anyway, when firefighters came into the bar we bought them rounds of drinks and hugged them and it was nice to still feel happy and I’m glad we were able to do that even in the midst of the ashes and after 9/11 I couldn’t take the subway without having a panic attack. And then everyone started moving out of the city including us, we left for LA after we got married. And now I’m here and I have a kid and lots of books published and now will be FREAKING FORTY. Cripes. I’ve got to buy better eye-cream.
Which is what I thought when I looked at the photographs from Toronto. Apparently the age you want to remain looking like is 36 (I think I read this in Bazaar or Vogue). I think I can still pass for 36, don’t you? BECAUSE IN MY MIND I AM STILL 28!
Here are some shots from Toronto:
The youngest SmartChick Jenny-Lynn Barnes, the fabulous Ally Carter and moi. Nora Ephron is right the scarf is a great accessory for women of a certain age.
Margie Stohl, the tallest SmartChick, me looking a bit tired, and the sweet Lesley Livingston. I should have kept that scarf tied around my neck but I was starting to get hot.
I got lots of compliments for my shoes, which were nude Louboutins with silver spikes all over them. I call them my “Kardashians” after I saw Kim wearing them in US Weekly. They were fun for an hour. Then I switched to flats.
I have so many fun news about Misguided Angel stuff but it’s not ready yet so I’ll wait until we have all our ducks in a row.
In the meantime, enjoy your youth people!! Because one day you will wake up and you will need eye-cream!!
I’ve started tweeting sneak-peeks of Misguided Angel on my Twitter! I’ll post one sneak every day until October 26th.
Also, I’ll sneak a chapter to my newsletter subscribers on October 7th! So sign up before then to get the chapter. I’ll post the chapter on my site on October 18th.
Book comes out October 26th! We have LOTS of fun things planned, so watch this space for more news!
Posted on September 28th, 2010
RT Blog for Pasadena Event
Just a quick link to my report from the Pasadena Smart Chicks event on the Romantic Times blog!
I’m off to Toronto tomorrow for the finale of the Smart Chicks tour and the Teen Read Awards! Hope to see you there!
Posted on September 23rd, 2010
Smart Chicks hit Menlo Park!
The Smart Chicks hit Menlo Park yesterday evening! It was a fun night, with lots of questions from our readers. They asked us what was our worst kiss, and I remember that a lot of people’s worst kiss was their first kiss, also that Kami and Melissa might have worst-kissed the same boy named Dave (sorry Dave). We gave away t-shirts and swag, and heard about fun news: Melissa Marr has new Wicked Lovely MOVIE news that she will be able to share soon, Kelley Armstrong’s YA series will go to 9 books, Alyson Noel’s new spinoff series, Radiance, hit the USA Today and NY Times best-seller lists, Kimberly Derting will have more Body Finder books, Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl’s sequel to Beautiful Creatures, Beautiful Darkness, will be out Oct 12. I didn’t really have any “new” news, I just reminded everyone that Misguided Angel comes out October 26th, Bloody Valentine is out December 28th, and Witches of East End is likely to be out around May or June 2011. As for more than that, Fall 2011 brings the Blue Bloods graphic novel as well as the sixth Blue Bloods book, and Wolf Pact comes out April 2012. Phew!
We were interviewed by a bunch of fun bloggers in a tiny little room in the back. Here we are looking cozy with a cute blogger.
They asked Melissa Marr how she got everyone to do the tour, and she said it was easy – she was worried she would have to bribe people but everyone was so enthusiastic. With authors, we never get to see each other enough, and while I feel like I know Melissa, I’ve never met her, and it was awesome to finally meet and hang out.
Here’s our awesome crowd!
Moi In Chanel. Oh yeah. I bought the shirt last year and never got to wear it. Ta-dah! Cuff is Hermes. Ring is Dior. Figured I’d share. I used to do fashion captions so you know, it’s a habit that never dies.
Melissa Marr and Kelly Armstrong, the faery godmothers of the Smart Chicks tour! (Although maybe Kelley is a necromancer godmother? Hmm.)
The lovely Alyson Noel, who RADIATES charm. (Okay my puns are bad I know.)
The cool Kim Derting, who knows where all the bodies are hidden.
Margie and Kami, the goofballs on the tour. Apparently I missed the hilarious antics of Sarah Rees Brennan. I’m sorry I missed the undie-swimming. Otherwise known as Scandal in Jackson, Miss.
Tomorrow we hit the downtown Vroman’s in Pasadena at 6PM! We say good-bye to Kim and say hello to Rachel Caine, Rachel Vincent and Mary Pearson! See you there!
As you all know I do not pack “light”. In fact, I have been on many book tours now in my tenth year as a full-time writer, and I have never not checked a bag. I am very familiar with overweight fees. When I was still working in fashion, my dream was to have my luggage Fed Exed to my destination like all the glamorous editors when they went to Fashion Week in Paris and Milan. However, book publishing is not quite so frou-frou and authors are a more practical bunch. Our tribe wears flat shoes, packs a carry-on bag, and calls it a day.
So you know, I’m totally the wrong person to send on book tour. In fact, a lot of my media escorts always comment on HOW HEAVY my suitcase is. (I bring two outfits for each day. A casual one for the airport and travel and a TADAH! one for the event. Everything is in its own plastic dry-cleaning bag so they don’t wrinkle and I pack the accessories for the day with each outfit. I learned this from Martha Stewart.)
Paris Hilton with all of her luggage. I am not this bad. I cannot use my luggage as a recliner. Yet.
I bought so many clothes for book tour last year that I did not even wear. My friend Minty who was moving to Paris was my shopping partner in crime. We would buy something and Minty would go “It’s for PARIS!” Because you know, you can’t find Lanvin flats or Chanel bags in Paris. No! And I would go “It’s for BOOK TOUR!” We were totally enabling each other in the worst way.
Anyway, sometimes when I think of my dad I get very sad but today as I was thinking about what to pack for book tour I remembered Pop and I started to laugh. Last year, my cousin got married in Toronto. It was August, and it was about three months before my dad passed away. We didn’t know then that this would be his last trip, although we definitely FELT it. He was very weak, and when we walked to the airport terminal from the security line, it took about half an hour and I remember thinking then that it was SO FAR AWAY. But I was there again recently and it amazed me how short the distance really was. It just didn’t occur to me that my dad was really sick. I mean, I *knew* it was bad, but part of me did not accept it. So I just opted not to notice.
We were traveling to Toronto with my kid, her nanny, my mom, my dad who could not walk, and all of our carry-ons. WIth the stroller and the carseat and all the bags, we were quite a caravan. My husband wasn’t with us since he had to take a later flight for work. So it was a bunch of ladies, a little kid, and my dad who was dying of cancer, dealing with all of our luggage. I ended up having to play the part that usually went to my husband, which meant I was in charge of the luggage and everything else since my mom had to tend to my dad, and our nanny to the kid. I was the one who flattened the stroller, unhitched the go-go-baby cart from the carseat (which went on the kid’s airplane seat) and make sure we went through security with everything we had brought with us. Not an easy task.
The Go-Go-Baby. One of the hardest things about parenting is figuring out how to unlatch it. Warning: causes marital discord.
While I was doing all the unhooking and flattening and removing laptops and DVD players and putting them back in their cases and counting carry-on bags, I was also very INTENT on making sure my garment bag—the one with my fabulous new Oscar de la Renta beaded evening coat that I was planning to wear to the wedding, would NOT GET LOST. As my family went through security and I sent all of our stuff through the X-ray machine, I kept yelling “POP!! THE DE LA RENTA!!!!” And I would point FRANTICALLY to my garment-bag as it went through security, since I HAD to make sure someone related to me was on the other side to catch it. I would look down and fold the stroller, look up, eye my garment bag, point and wave and shout “THE DE LA RENTA!!”, then remove the laptop from its case, look up, and check, and again yell, “THE DE LA RENTA!! POP!” I probably yelled this about half a dozen times.
The insanely fabulous de la Renta coat. I wore mine with a red Lanvin dress.
It was Pop’s job to make sure THE DE LA RENTA made it safely to Canada. It was a really light garment bag since it only contained the coat and the dress, and so he carried it. As I was sweating through security, frantically making sure my fabulous piece of designer awesomeness did not get lost, my dad suddenly began shouting back at me, “THE DE LA RENTA!!”
And it was then that I realized what an ABSURD spectacle I had made. For some reason I was convinced that if I took my eye off the prize, someone would snatch my fabulous new coat from me. I began to laugh, and everyone in my family began to laugh.
Now anytime we need to laugh my mom and I just say to each other THE DE LA RENTA!!! and we remember my dad and that crazy trip and how stressed I was ABOUT A COAT. How silly it must have seemed, with everything we had to worry about in August. (My dad would have surgery a week later, and we were all terrified to think about it.)
Maybe it was easier to worry about my clothes than about how my dad couldn’t walk anymore. In any event, instead of bopping me on the head and calling me a shallow fool, my dad just made fun of me and took all the stress out of a tense situation. My dad UNDERSTOOD about designer clothing (the de la Renta!!!). The man wanted to be buried in his tuxedo so he could look his best when he met his maker. Pop thought of Heaven as a Black-Tie party.
James Bond is my idea of Heaven too.
Not a day goes by without thinking of my dad, and some days are easier than others. We shared a birthday, and this year I had my first birthday without him. I had been dreading it and I was so depressed on the days leading up to it. I normally have a list of shiny pretty things I want for my birthday but this year I didn’t want anything at all. Nothing can bring my dad back, no matter how much I wish it. We had so many wonderful birthdays together. I remember the fancy Chinese banquet we had when I was eleven in the Mandarin Oriental hotel. I remember the one when I was nine and we had magicians and clowns and fairground rides in the backyard. We always had two cakes. One for Pop and one for me. On our birthdays we would rush to see who could call each other first, which is why we always had to call each other at the ungodly hour of 6AM. “Happy Our Birthday” we would say to each other. Pop always insisted on singing.
Anyway. I won’t be wearing the de la Renta on the Smart Chicks tour. (I believe unlike Heaven, the tour is not black-tie.) But that doesn’t mean I won’t be wearing something worth screaming across the security terminal for. Just watch out for the crazy lady waving at her husband and yelling “THE CELINE!!!”
The Celine. Nuff said.
Posted on September 15th, 2010
My Childhood Map Leads to The Mall
I was reading Gretchen Rubin’s blog about happiness the other day. Gretchen wrote a very wise and very helpful book for daily living (she is MY Oprah and can be yours too. Gretchen figures out the world so we don’t have to, also she’s my dear friend Liz’s older sister, which means Liz has hands-down the coolest older sister ever. Anyway, go buy Gretchen’s book and live better.) The blog that day was about comfort activities, comfort food, etc. something that you do to make you feel better, and I realized that my comfort place is THE MALL. Whenever I finish a book, or feel blue, or just need to wander about aimlessly so I can clear my head, I go to the mall.
I realize liking the mall is so very declasse these days. I can’t even count the number of snotty dismissive jokes so many people I know or encounter have made about the mall. I understand, it’s a cultural eyesore, it’s not for the educated privileged public radio locavore crowd, in fact, that crowd would rather wet paper towels and use that to wipe their newborn’s butt rather than buy some WIPES at the store. Yes, we actually went to a babycare class at a prestigious hospital where the instructor TOLD US TO DO THIS. (In her presentation she also made fun of the mall, like “when you take your baby out, let’s say – to the mall, although NO ONE goes there…”)
That should have clued us in that she was crazy. Because we spent the first two weeks of the kid’s life dutifully wetting paper towels and using that to wipe the baby’s butt, making our moms pre-soak them in a pail and then… ANYWAY, we finally gave in and bought (THE HORROR) medicated wipes. And have never looked back since. Mike’s mom I think collapsed in gratitude when she heard we gave up that hare-brained scheme. (What did we know? We were new parents!)
Anyway, I like the mall. I grew up in a mall. My parents operated several employees cafeterias in Sears and JC Penney and every day of my life when we first moved to America, we were at the mall. I now realize, the mall is home. It reminds me of my childhood, of my parents, of how every day we would lock up and put away all the M&Ms and the sandwich trays and during the summer I worked at our store so on my lunch hours I would wander around the mall. Contempo Casuals! The Limited! Size 3-5-7! (Remember that store? No size 9s!) The t-shirt gallery. Crazy Shirts? (with all the press-ons.) Ticketmaster. (Where my sister and I would buy tickets to the New Order and the Cure concerts with mom’s credit card.)
I can’t remember who said it, but the quote goes something like when life gets too hard, we all run back to the maps of our childhood, and take comfort in the familiar pleasures there. Kind of a nice idea isn’t it? And here I was thinking I just really liked food courts and chain stores.