La Maison et Le Chat
“Kate, I have to read this to you.”
Putting my book down, I looked up at Dawn, who sat reading at the other end of the couch. “Go for it.”
“I’m still reading the Julia Childs's memoir.” She held it up so I could see the cover. “There’s this quote that’s great, but it’s in French so I’m going to mangle it.”
The princess herself.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“I didn’t want your ears to bleed or anything.”
“So…” I smiled encouragingly. “The quote?”
“Right.” Resettling her glasses on her nose, she read very carefully, “An may son sens chat set lavvy sens so lay.”
It took me a moment, but I got it. “Ah. Une maison sans chat, c'est la vie sans soleil. A house without a cat is like life without sun.”
“Exactly.” Dawn beamed at her cat, who was crouched on the floor in front of me. “I feel that way about Tinkerbell. She’s like a ray of light in my world.”
Tinkerbell lifted her head and hissed at me—the kind of hissing that makes you want to back away really slowly.
“Um. Yeah.” I pulled my feet up onto the couch, just in case. Because I’m sure they look better with all my toes in tact. “Tinkerbell’s something, all right.”
“I don’t know why she’s been so strange the past few days.”
“She doesn’t normally freak out and attack her own tail?”
“No, she does that. She just doesn’t usually lay in wait for guests and try to trip them. She’s been talking to you a lot and following you around all over. That’s not normal.” Dawn frowned at the wee beastie little princess. “I think she’s trying to tell you something.”
“Maybe she has a message from the fairies.” I glanced at the cat, who stared steadily at me, obviously waiting. I breathed a sigh of relief when she huffed, as though disgusted with my telepathic shortcomings, and sauntered away. "Next time I visit, I'll bring a cat-to-English translator."
The princess herself.
Going Home... Again
Peeps, hear my cry!
Me this morning, with my perfect hair and perfect skin. And perfect clothes with goddamn matching shoes. (That was a line from a movie that no one but me and one other person in the world saw. Two points if you guess which one.)
Okay, that may have been a little dramatic, but I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Not that I'm going to make some kind of monumental statement or anything. Really I've got nothing to say, except...
I'm on my way home!
(Insert shrill whistling and bugle calls here.)
At least in theory I'll be on my way home. I'm publishing the blog early, because I'll be traveling Monday and all of Tuesday. With some luck, I'll actually be let out of Joburg to hurtle my way through space back to San Francisco. It's been sketchy here—anything can still happen.
Will I ever come back? Hell no. Maybe to South Africa—there are things to see—but never to Joburg. That's not to say there weren't great things about my visit here.
- The hotel staff rocked. I'm not sure I'll be able to cook for myself when I return home, or make my own bed. On top of it all, they made me feel at home.
- Something about the air must have agreed with me, because my skin and hair looked awesome. I'm talking the kind of shiny and luminous that could grace a Cosmo cover.
- I finished the book I was working on. If you're under deadline, I highly recommend being confined in an enclosed compound without any distractions.
- I got to fly on a plane with unlimited free booze and movies. Twice. (Hopefully.)
So what's next, Kate?
A career as a cagedancer for a rock band. And perhaps another book or two. Stay posted.
International Intrigue
I’ve embarked on a journey full of mystery, laced with a soupçon of danger. To Johannesburg.
Yeah—that Johannesburg, in South Africa. All the way on the other side of the world.
What the heck? you wonder. Why South Africa??
Frankly, I’m not sure why South Africa. That’s where the mystery comes into play. I’m remarkably short on the backstory of this tale. I’m not even certain I know all the characters involved.
Not having all the details makes me uncomfortable, which means I’ve had a bad attitude regarding this sudden trip from the beginning. (Insert sigh here.) But as I’ve been sitting here on the first leg of my trip (to Atlanta, if you need to know), I’ve decided I’m going to change my outlook on this whole thing. I am Joan Wilder, gone off to help a family member. This is an adventure, where I’ll get to see a land I normally wouldn’t have and order room service from my cushy hotel room. If anything, it’s given me good fodder for a future book.
Always look the bright side, my friends.
And to those of you who have recently commented about how my life is becoming more and more like a novel: you’re right. I’ve become one of my own heroines—earnest but slightly clueless, wandering through the maze of life and men, trying to find my place in the world, ready to kick ass. Who knows—maybe I’ll meet a deliciously accented tycoon who’ll whisk me off in his private plane to an exotic destination.
Stranger things have happened, right?
Last Days in Arkansas
I spent my last few days in Arkansas in grand style, and I have pictures to prove it. That’s right—it’s photojournalism time.
Exciting Thing #1: The Drive Through Wilderness Safari
For the past two years Julie’s been threatening promising to take me to the drive through animal safari. This year she delivered.
I know what you’re thinking: a safari in Arkansas? What the heck kind of animals will it have? Goats and armadillos?
Well, yeah, it did.
But in addition to the regular farm animals and assortment of mangy cats, they had black bears, wolves, peacocks, and real jungle cats (tigers as well as lions). I even touched a baby tiger.
Here’s Chloe the monkey. She’s a klepto. We were warned that she’d try to steal anything shiny, so I put my earrings in Julie’s pocket for safekeeping. It turned out that it was futile—Chloe pick-pocketed Julie. That was after the monkey jumped on my head from behind. Three times.
We had a Jurassic Park moment on the drive through portion of our visit, except instead of dinosaurs we were inundated with ostriches. Demon ostriches (note the glowing eyes).
Then Julie introduced me to my new boyfriend. He’s a rock star. He’s got style.
Exciting Thing #2: Box Suite at the Game
Last weekend, we went to see the Naturals (a minor league team) play. From a luxury suite, of course, because that’s how we roll.
At the game, I realized having a rock star boyfriend was overrated. He never stuck around and was always chasing other chicks. So I threw him over for…
It was love at first sight. Don’t worry—Sasquatch promised he’d groom his eyebrows and nose hairs for me.
Goodbyes, and Other Incidents
First, meet Jasper:
Jasper was determined to get my attention. I resisted, so he finally resorted to extreme measures: stealing my flip flop. He looks innocent, doesn’t he? Don’t believe it. He's a thief. He and Chloe should hook up.
And now...
I’m headed back to San Francisco—just for a few days before I’m off on another Big Adventure. I have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I’m looking forward to walking my beach. On the other, I already miss Julie, her daughter, and the other friends I have here. But I’ll be back.*
* Note to Julie: that wasn’t meant to sound as threatening as it did.
The Magic Kingdom
I'm so freakin' tired. You have no idea. My eyes are gritty and my voice is raspy like I've smoked two packs a day since birth.
Translation: the 30th Annual RWA Conference was a smashing success.
The reality of attending a conference with 2000 romance writers will probably overwhelm you—or make you spasm. I don't want to be responsible for that, so I'm not going to go into much detail. However, I can give you some highlights.
- The Magic Kingdom. I'm very disappointed to say I didn't meet Mickey. Where was he? On vacation? I expected to find him lounging by the pool (which is the only reason I hung out there—really). The Swan and Dolphin resort was a good venue (the staff was awesome). I do have to say, though, that the dolphin statues were very weird, looking less like dolphins and more like drugged-out fish.
- Booksignings! My publisher booksigning rocked. For most of an hour and a half, I had a crazy line of people waiting to grab a copy of my books, including advanced copies of Tempted by Fate, which comes out in December. The Literacy signing was also fantastic. Thanks, everyone who stopped by to pick up a book or just to say hi.
- On being a Grand Central author... It's quite lovely, actually. Each conference, the GCP team takes it's authors to a swank dinner. This year I sat with Roxanne St. Claire and Kristen Painter. They tried to get me into trouble. They almost succeeded, but I had a flash of my editor watching me dance on the bar top, her mouth agape, and I decided I'd continue to be the good girl I really am. Maybe next year.
- Hanging with my homies. The great thing about the conference is that I get to see old friends and make great new ones. This year, I hung out with Allison Brennan, Marilyn Brant, Laura Moore, and Heather Graham to name a few.
- Outlet stores—sigh. Julie made me go shopping. Okay, we had a deal, and my end of the bargain was that I'd take her to the Coach outlet. I shopped for five hours. It's a record. I think I deserve a merit badge.
I have pictures, but due to technical difficulties you aren't getting them. It's a real bummer, because you know how awesome I am with the photos. Oh well. Maybe I'll tweet them. Keep an eye out.
If you didn't go and have questions, ask me. I'll give you answers—within reason. Because what happens at RWA...
Mad Cow Running, and Other Tales of the South
Last night I asked my sister what I should blog about today. She said, "Blog about me. I'm always an interesting blog topic."
And she's modest too.
But enough about her.
And on to me. I'm in Arkansas, making my annual trip to visit to my friend Julie Linker. As of this moment, I have not
- shot anything;
- seen a scorpion;
- gone night fishing;
- eaten catfish and hush puppies;
- or shared moonshine with a redneck.
But give me time—I still have a couple weeks here.
Julie and I have babysat a mad cow though. Yesterday, Gary (Julie's husband) was at a friend's house helping him move some cows into a different pasture. Julie, her daughter, and I decided to join them, not to herd but to sit by the pool and read. We have our priorities straight.
Except we got put on mad cow duty. One of the steers was supremely pissed to be penned away and was doing its best to get out. Gary and his friend went out to buy fence reinforcing materials, instructing us to keep an eye on the cow.
After the men left, I turned to Julie. "So we're supposed to watch to make sure the cow doesn't escape?"
"Yes." She calmly flipped the page of her book.
I listened to the cow furiously kicking the barn door. "And what are we supposed to do if it does?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to run."
Fortunately, it didn't escape until after our watch.
Next...
Julie and I are headed to Orlando this week for the RWA National conference, which means we've been plotting our wardrobe over the past few days. Somehow, she decided I'm going to wear a silver sequined dress to the Rita Awards (the romance industry's equivalent to the Oscar Awards). Picture the shortest, most blinding dress you can and you'll have an accurate image of the dress. If you're going, you won't be able to miss me. I'll be the walking disco ball—walking because the dress is too tight to sit in.
In other news...
Those of you who follow me on Twitter know I've been painting. If you aren't following me on TWITTER, shame on you.
Anyway, yeah—watercolors. I'm not sure what possessed me. I haven't painted in a coon's age, since I was knee high to a tick. (I'm in the South and have to say things like that or I'll have my Visa revoked.) I love it. Today I should be writing, but I'm tempted to take my paints to the café instead of my laptop.
Don't worry. I'm not giving up the day job. McLovin and I are headed to work right now. A girl cannot live by paint alone. At least not this girl.
Interview with...
Margo Candela!
(Cue shrill whistles and confetti.)
Wait—who is Margo? you wonder. Margo is my friend. That should be enough reason to go out and buy her latest novel, GOODBYE TO ALL THAT. But I know some of you (cough—Bradley) and you're going to need more than that. So I asked Margo to stop by and do a little Q&A session.
Raquel Azorian has learned to play the Hollywood game while keeping her skirt length to her knees and her pantyhose run free. All she needs is for her boss to sign her promotion memo. Instead of putting pen to paper, he suffers a very public meltdown that puts not only his future in Hollywood, but also Raquel’s on the line.
It’s not just Raquel’s professional life that’s a mess, her whole family is in turmoil. Raquel is forced to become the intermediary—all while trying to figure out how to save her job and not derail her office romance with the man of her dreams.
When the chaos of juggling so many lives reaches a breaking point, Raquel realizes she’s going to have to choose—success at work or happiness at home. Whatever choice she makes, Raquel knows it going to cost her, but part of her is still pulling for her very own Hollywood ending.
I have to admit I haven't read GOODBYE TO ALL THAT yet—it just came out last week. But I have read Margo's other books and I loved them. I imagine GOODBYE TO ALL THAT will be even better. The reviews are certainly great. Here's what Publisher's Weekly said:
"Margo Candela combines a cunning wit with a deep understanding of the office politics specific to the entertainment industry to create a frantic atmosphere and a near breathless momentum as the story barrels toward an ending that's anything but your focus grouped happy fade-out."
So without further ado...
Oh—in case you're having a low IQ day, the questions are from me, the responses are from Margo.
Now without further ado...
Who were you in your past lives?
I’d have to assume I was some lowly scullery maid who lived in a feudal castle in either the 14th or 15th century. It’s the only way I can explain my sincere dislike for housework and antiques. Compared to that, the life I have now is fabulous. This, of course, means my next life will suck big time.
If you could eat one food all the time, what would it be?
Bread, but only really, really good bread. And instead of making me chubby and sluggish, bread would give me ab definition and a bubble butt. Honestly, there’s nothing better than good bread. I’ve gone out to dinner and have ended up eating mostly bread. I’m always game to end a meal with bread pudding, too. My lust for bread is the main reason I won’t let myself learn how to bake it. That would be a very bad idea. I’d never leave my house except to buy flour.
If you could write about anything, what would it be?
What I really want to do is write a novel from a first person male perspective. I keep bugging my editor about it, but she always tells me “Not yet.” My main goal in life is to turn that “Not yet” into “How soon can you get that novel to me?” I’m slowly wearing her down and I expect that eventually she’ll give in just to shut me up.
Is it true that you rent a storage unit to house all your ballet flats?
My ballet flat addiction is (barely) under control. As of last week, I still have enough room in my closet for all of them. Maybe I’ll line them all up and take a picture and, just maybe, that’ll help me see that I truly have a problem. Doubt it! I’d probably end up framing the picture and hanging it in my office. I really love my ballet flats. As far as I’m concerned, they’re the perfect shoe for just about any occasion.
Pancakes or French toast, and what time of day do you most love to eat them?
Both! But with contingencies. I’ll only have French toast, no powdered sugar, if it’s on a brunch menu at a restaurant. And pancakes can only be eaten for dinner and at home. I make very good buttermilk pancakes, but I’ve recently branched out to waffles with limited successes. Waffles are the redheaded step child to French toast and pancakes in my life. Good thing I have a sincere affection for redheads.
What superpower do you have/want to have?
What I want is the gold watch from that movie, The Girl, The Gold Watch & Everything. I saw it as a kid and I thought it was the coolest thing ever, the movie and the watch. It would be my ideal super power situation since I physically wouldn’t have to change myself or be on call all the time with superpowers that just wouldn’t quit. When needed, I’d just whip out that watch and stop time. Mostly I’d use it for good and the rest of the time to beat red light camera tickets.
Josie and the Flashbacks
The past couple weeks I’ve been thinking about flashbacks. I recently did a critique on a manuscript where the entire second chapter was a flashback. It was really well written, so it almost worked—almost being the key word there. As a reader, I wanted to skip that chapter and get on to the next one, which continued the present-time story. The flashback just got in the way.
So I’ve been pondering why, and when, flashbacks should be used. I know some authors are vehemently opposed. I’m not sure being so rigid about anything is a good idea—it closes you off to possibilities.
In all pondering, I came up with one rule as far as flashbacks are concerned: they shouldn't interrupt the flow of the story. And they need to have a definite purpose, very specific and honed.*
Buy it, especially if you like Desperate Housewives, women’s fiction, excellent writing and storytelling, children, asshole men, or diverting literature.
A good example of a flashback done well was in a book I just read: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives by Josie Brown. Last weekend I talked with Josie about that scene. She added it as an afterthought, because she thought her heroine’s conflict/motivation needed a little shoring up, so that the reader felt the doubts the heroine (Lyssa) has about her marriage. As a flashback, it's woven in very cleverly:
To be honest with you, our union has been fragile since day one.
He told me so himself, five years into our marriage, as we lolled, naked, late one night in our new backyard hot tub, our inhibitions loose by the roiling steam, a pitcher of frozen margaritas, and the knowledge that Tanner, then three, was fast asleep.
“Are you in love with me?” I asked casually. I guess I was anticipating a declaration of undying devotion.
Instead he paused—only a second, but even that was too long for a woman who is always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her.
“Yeah, sure. I love you.”
It packs a punch, doesn't it? In a few lines, you...
- get that the foundation of Lyssa’s marriage is shaky in such an ambiguous way that you aren’t sure what she should do;
- and find out that her husband obviously hasn’t done anything worthy of her taking action about.
Lyssa's doubt about it all is more like a small niggle in the back of her—and your—mind. It sets up the future conflict without getting lost in the past.
Do you have feelings about flashbacks, one way or another? Do you like reading them, or do they get in your way? Do you wish I'd written a more frivolous post?**
* I know—that's two rules. I'd fix what I have written, but I'm too lazy at the moment.
** I can't always be frivolous. I have a serious side too. Okay, maybe I don't so much, but I like to put my glasses on and pretend.
Good Intentions
I started out today with good intentions. This morning I was going to write a blog post on one of the craft topics suggested last week* so I had time to polish it later, but that plan went awry really quickly. To my defense, I was out of town, still celebrating the Fourth of July (translation: boozing it up with friends over an extended weekend).
Ahem.
So I'll write a crafty post next week. Maybe I'll even answer a hodge-podge of different questions. This week, however, I need your help. So get your cape, lasso, and whatever other accoutrements you may need to come to my rescue.
Are you ready? Are you sitting down?**
Basically, I need something to work on. I'm in this holding pattern where I'm waiting for green lights on different projects, or feedback on stuff I've turned in. For the past week, I've had nothing to do—nothing to write.
In short, I am going insane.
I don't think I can go another week without starting work on something—I'm just not sure what it should be. Give me suggestions. What do you guys think? (I mean, other than me writing a decent blog post for a change.)
Maybe I want to work on a young adult story. Thoughts?
For you writers: what are you working on? For you readers: what do you want to read? Tell me. I'm all ears.
* Thanks for the suggestions, Jen.
** Because my dilemma may bowl you over, and I don't want you to hurt yourself.
Taking Care of Business
Do you know how many blog posts I've written in the past week? A whole heck of a lot. I've been asked to guest blog during the month of July, and I'm cranking out the posts to turn in. Don't worry—I'll post details when I know the whens and wheres of the event.
You know where I'm going with this, don't you? Can you blame me? I've written so many blogs, I don't have it in me to write this one. But as tempted as I am to post a Gone Fishing graphic and flake out, I can't bring myself to let you down. That's love. Except it's the vague and shallow kind of love that only merits random miscellanea (see below).
So long, Madrid.
I'm back in San Francisco, and I feel pretty good about it. Yes, I miss Madrid—and New York, for that matter. But there's something refreshing about having the ocean and the fog again. It's good to be back.
I'd rather clean the toilet.
A few days ago, I got the proofs for my next book, TEMPTED BY FATE. Don't tell my editor this, but proofs are my least favorite part of the publishing process. (Translation: it's utter torture.)
Picture this: you get a copy of your book, formatted for printing. Your job is to go through and make sure the pages are set properly and that everything is in order (no typos, that all the copyedits were inputted, etc). Sound easy? It is. But it's freaking tedious, especially after you've already read the book several times in the previous few weeks.
A blast from the past.
I'm getting together with my best friend from high school today, and I'm beyond excited. It's been twenty years since I've seen her. Life tore us asunder. (Insert dramatic sob here.) But several weeks ago while I was in Madrid she emailed me, and we're seeing each other for lunch. I have no expectations, but I know it'll be lovely regardless of the outcome.
Vamos Argentina!
Argentina is advancing to the next round of the World Cup. They play Germany on Saturday, a game which may cause a rift between me and my sister. She has a crush on one of the German players but—dude—the Argentinians are way hotter. Especially the goalie. And Messi is a futbol god. There really shouldn't be any question of who to root for.
Disney World, here I come.
At the end of July, I'm headed to Orlando for the RWA National conference. Why should you care? Because I'll be signing books at the RWA literacy event on July 28th (I think). Stop by Disney World's Dolphin and Swan Resort if you're in the area, say hi, and buy a book for a good cause.
Sneakiness.
Did you notice how I just slipped a little bit of World Cuppiness into this post? I'm sly that way.
Speaking of posting...
I haven't written a craft post in forever. Anyone want one? And what would you want? Character stuff? Plotting? A discussion on scene? Pacing? Dialogue? Let me know if you've got things you want to discuss.