Borders and Simon & Schuster

Remember when Borders first opened and nobody had ever considered putting coffee and books together? Let's hope they regain the magic. In the meantime, I was interviewed along with Jodi Picoult on the debacle at edrants.com

Teenage Dream

In honor of the creative writing class at Sacred Heart high school, let's all remember our teenage diaries. Great link and props to jezebel . . .Take a look at their brilliant post here.

The Ghosts of Christmas Gifts Past . . .

Writers are blogging at Bookreporter.com all week about holiday gifts. Check my guest blog on being spoiled at Christmas here.

The Great eBook Debate

Has begun over at the Liars Club blog.
I kick the topic off with a somewhat controversial stance. Check it out -- but don't hate me for being truthy!

Writers Blog to check out (for selfish and unselfish reasons)

Great review of Standing Still (and a beautifully crafted post)from Kathryn Craft at bloodredpencil.com.

Maybe some dramz for Alec Baldwin?

In my movie-deal dreams, I've always kind of pictured Greg Kinnear or Viggo Mortensen playing the role of Sam in Standing Still. But I've decided Alec Baldwin has just the right amount of good and evil in him. And have we seen him in a drama lately? Mais non! Come on, let's get er done. . .

Story of the Day. No Ulterior Sales Motive.

Thanksgiving weekend, I was torturing myself trying to remove poached eggs from silicone floaty cup thingies, when my dear friend Peter said something about our family always having problems with eggs. "Huh?" I said, as the mangled egg slid onto the English muffin (which, let's face it, should be re-named Egg Sponge.)

"You know," he replied, "like the time this summer when your husband used the bug spray instead of the Pam to make the scrambled eggs."

I put down my spatula. "Excuse me?"

His wife made a little whistling sound that she makes when she's trying to only signal him, like a dog with high-pitched hearing. Except we all can hear it and we know exactly what she's doing.

Yes, it's true. My husband, renowned short-order breakfast cook especially on vacation, served poisoned eggs to his children and his houseguests, and didn't realize it until after the kids complained that the eggs tasted "funny."

"Was this the same day we took Middle Daughter to the ER for stomach pain?"

Yes, he confessed. And you never mentioned this to the ER doctor? "She didn't eat the eggs," Peter said. I remembered now, so clearly. My daughter had had stomach pain for days, and my husband, no alarmist, had suddenly called and said he was taking her to the ER. And I also remember everyone obsessing over what my daughter might be allergic too. And Peter and my husband, asking her repeatedly, over and over, "Are you sure you didn't have the eggs?"

Angrily, I remember telling them, "I don't think she's allergic to eggs, okay?"

As it turned out, they had both snuck out of the house and called the poison control hotline, and reported this entire story to Peter's wife, but not to me, because no one wanted me to "over react."

I walked over to Peter's wife and stared her down. "It's one thing for the guys to keep the secret. But about the female code, sister?"

She shrugged and said, "But your kids didn't eat the eggs. My kid did. We figured you didn't need to know."

I nodded. Okay, this made sense to me now. We carried on with our breakfast, went for a walk before they packed up to leave. It was only later that I thought to ask the next question: "Did I eat the eggs?"

When the three of them burst into laughter, I had my answer.

The moral of the story, I told my husband, is "Never fully trust men in the kitchen." No, he said, the moral of the story is "Keep bug spray in the living room."