Friday, December 09, 2005

Oh, bitchcakes! (and in unrelated news, congratulations Chris Opperman!)


My absolute all time favorite picture of daughter Julie on stage.
**********************
Oh bitchcakes. Yeah, that's right. I said it. Oh, bitchcakes. And no, no, I'm not talking about Julie. Not today, anyway.

Don't know what bitchcakes means? Ha! You will. You'll be hearing it everywhere soon. Trust me - I know these things. It's the new "fucking insane" for 2006. Slightly more politically correct, don't you think?

Here's how it should be used in a sentence: "Everyone is going totally bitchcakes today."

Or, like the word "fuck", it is very versatile, and you can simply, as I did, say "Oh bitchcakes".

In fact, if my kids were smart, one of them would grab it as a name for one of their bands immediately. Because it was recently used by that author I said I wouldn't mention again, and immediately showed up right here.

Hey, congratulations to keyboard wizard Chris Opperman who played on Steve Vai's Lotus Feet, nominated yesterday for a Grammy! Yes! When Eric played drums on Chris' east coast gig in New York this past July, it was one of the highlights of my summer.

So get this. Amazon is having a sale. They team up two books together and offer a discount. So I find this out, and immediately do a search on Three Days in New York City. Oh, they've teamed up my book alright. You'll never guess with what. Okay, I'll tell you. "Erotica - My Dirty Thirties: Male/Female/Male" by Kelly Carr. Also, Amazon mentions that people who purchased my book also bought Dirty Thirties as well as a book by Emma Holly called "Strange Attractions". So if you are interested in a bargain and would like a copy of my book along with My Dirty Thirties, here is the link.

Personally, I think that is hilarious, but I much prefer Barnes and Noble. I recently learned that Amazon contributed heavily to the Bush campaign. So you know what that means. And, Barnes and Noble is far kinder to me. People who purchased my book there also purchased the following:

Afterburn by Zane
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Nervous by Zane
Sex and the City by Candace Bushnell
Star by Pamela Anderson

If you are so inclined, Barnes and Noble has my book right here.

Seriously, for the millionth time, while Three Days in New York City does contain some, um, graphic sex scenes, it is a comedy about a very dysfunctional woman who meets up with a very dysfunctional man. End of story. It is not porn; it only gets the erotica label because the male character has "exotic tastes" which completely freak out the female character with what I hope are laugh out loud funny results. Okay? Okay.

Anyway, Eric had an incredible day at the studio recording with the Control Freaks yesterday and he should be there today only it seems we're having a bit of a blizzard here so they've called off recording and Eric's headed to Wilmington, Delaware for practice all day so that they can continue onward on Monday. Oh god, I wish I could tell you what else is going to happen next week in that regard, but I can't. Ha. How's that for a tease.

Yes, I know.

Oh, bitchcakes.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Odds and Sods part 100940 -- and a moment of silence for the late, great John Lennon


No, I am not gay. Not that's there anything wrong with that.

Ha! I love this pic - that's my friend, the brilliant author, Maya, on the left. Her dad played with the Allman Brothers so she's had a life as insane as mine. Notice I am wearing my black NaNo t-shirt -- last year and prior years I actually won; this year...well...I made it to 35,000 words but hey, 35,000 words in thirty days is still nothing to sniff at. Once again, NaNo is short for National Novel Writing Month, which takes place during the month of November, and the goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days. No sense my posting a link to their site now, huh.

So a moment of silence for the late, great John Lennon. I cannot believe it's twenty-five years.


Gary and I got the news the worst possible way. I was half asleep and Gary was watching Monday Night Football on television and heard Howard Cosell announce it. We were so young to be married already (like, when most kids are just starting college) - my mom had recently died and we'd just moved into our new house -- I sat straight up in bed and Gary and I looked at each other in total disbelief. We immediately turned on the radio and with sinking hearts, we heard every FM rock station playing a Lennon song. We knew it had to be true but we were still in denial until the song ended -- and of course it was Happy Christmas (War is Over) which I have never been able to listen to without getting teary eyed since -- and the disc jockey was crying and taking calls from crying fans. Anyway, Gary and I went on a week long bender - we drank Irish whiskey straight from the bottle, smoked about three ounces of pot...ugh, it's hard to explain to our kids what it was like and what John Lennon meant to our generation, but we are very fortunate in that Julie and Eric, while of course loving new bands like the Flaming Lips and Shins, etc., also embrace our music as well. Hell, the two of them are the ones who turned me on to Frank Zappa. I was into British blues/rock only, which was in direct defiance to my jazz musician father. (Though he'd really have hated Zappa. Ha.)

They had a memorial service for John Lennon here in Philadelphia one day after it happened on the steps of the Art Museum, which is right down the street from where I lived at the time and still live, in fact, and they had Imagine playing over loudspeakers. When whoever was in charge asked for a moment of silence, the oddest thing occurred. It was a dark, gloomy day, and all of a sudden, the clouds shifted, parted, and the strangest single ray of sunlight illuminated everything. The crowd gasped -- it was totally surreal. Here's a photo of the museum - there were people crowded together on every step...yes, the same steps Rocky ran up (bleh).


Oh, I just realized this pic does not show the steps. Okay, well, you all saw Rocky (unfortunately, I'm sure) so you know what I'm talking about.

In other surreal news, Eric goes into the studio at 1:00 p.m. today and all day tomorrow with the Control Freaks and he's really stoked. Hey, we're all stoked. More on that in a future post. I've name dropped enough in that regard, but you know, until contracts are signed, etc. I'd better stay quiet on that front.

Speaking of new music (was I?), there are two guys out there I really like at the moment: Citizen Cope and Lewis Taylor. Trust me on this. They are amazing! Check them out and buy their music -- it's important to crush the whole Jesus Take the Wheel movement. Oh my god, I'm sure she's very nice, but Carrie Underwood makes me want to climb up in a tower with a high powered rifle.

And back for a moment to the Flaming Lips. Guess who else loves them? Pete Townshend of the Who! How do I know this? I found his blog! He's blogging an entire novel, complete with MP3s! Yes! (Though I was really surprised to learn one of his favorite authors was Patricia Cornwell. No comment, but can you say "formula"?)

Ah well, I'm sure there's more news and stuff going on with this crazy family and if I remember it, I will be back, but in the meantime, I am off to write.

But before I go, do me a favor. Listen to some John Lennon music today, okay? And may I respectfully suggest you google him and read about his philosophies and well, about his life, really. This blog is named in honor of his brilliant book of prose, poetry, and incredible artwork: John Lennon, In His Own Write. If you don't already own a copy, buy it.

Whoops - apparently I'm not writing yet. Eric, even though on his way out the door to go to the studio, left me with the DVD of Let it Be on the television. The camera just panned to John. Oh god, here come the tears again...

Peace
xo

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

What do Neil Gaiman and Julie Slick have in common?



I keep telling you, this is fate. Ha!

So. Neil? Julie?

Err...just so you know, Alice Cooper is a Republican.

But yeah, yeah, a hell of a nice guy, anyway.

(I obviously met Alice, too, on the night Julie performed with him but declined to have my photo taken. And of course that's Julie on the right, playing last year's Christmas present, the lovely Rickenbacker bass (refer to December, 2004 archives here for the story of the century about that debacle), and vocalist/guitarist Teddi Tarnoff on the left)

Okay, just so you all know, I had this post prepared yesterday but had it on hold, waiting for some more Eric news, which, unfortunately, I still have to keep under wraps.

In the meantime, what do you think happened? I got a post from Neil Gaiman himself in the comments section of yesterday's blog entry.

After my kids administered smelling salts and I stopped running around the living room screaming like a madwoman, I realized the implications of his post, which is as follows if you are too lazy to scroll down and read it for yourself:

"Neil said...

Truth to tell, the Waterman 52 is a wonderful signing pen, but it's only a so-so novel-writing pen. The nibs do lovely things on paper, but it's a little light and not the most legible pen you'll ever write with. My favourite novel-writing pen is probably the Lamy 2000 -- there's a write up on it at http://www.rickconner.net/penoply/misc.12.html
They retail for $145 but you can find new ones on eBay for half that..."

**********

Because guess what. Before getting that note from Mr. Gaiman, I decided to treat myself to the vintage Waterman fountain pen I mentioned yesterday after all (which, by the way, I learned was manufactured around 1926-1928), but since I have no idea even how to use one, I wrote to the seller with some questions. In a totally unbelievable for this day and age move, Jake from Jake's Pens, where I found the 52 vintage Waterman, is sending me the pen free of charge to try out. If I like it, I can paypal him; if I can't work it properly, all I have to do it return it. I'm kind of astounded by his generousity. Here's a copy of our correspondence to each other so you can all have a giggle at what a dork I am, but I cannot believe this kind of chivalry still exists:

Letter from me to Jake:

Hi - before I send off the paypal money for the pen, and you're going to think I'm a complete idiot when I tell you this-- but I've never written with one of these before and I want one because I'm a writer and a famous author I adore (Neil Gaiman) uses the same pen.

Sooo....my question is: Do I need anything else with this order? I'm assuming I at least need ink. Do I need extra "nibs" or whatever they are called? Do you sell this stuff and if so, can you put together a package for me and then tell me the exact amount so I can paypal it all at the same time?

I know, I know. This is so lame.

xo
Rob
************
Jake's response:

Hi Robin -
Don't worry about "lame" questions. There are not many of us left that actually write with fountain pens so having a "convert" is welcome. Even more welcome is a convert to vintage fountain pens.

Let's do this. Don't send any $. I will send you the pen and a bottle of ink so you can try it out. Actually I don't have any unopened bottles of the ink that I like, Parker Quink, but it is easy to get online. I do have some ink that I got at a pen show that isn't my favorite. You can have a bottle to try out the pen. If you like the pen, send payment for the pen only. Keep the ink, although I recommend Quink. (If you like the ink I send I have plenty more you can have for mailing cost only.)

Just send your address and I will get the pen and ink in the mail in the morning if the above is suitable to you.
Best, Jake
PS You do not need extra nibs, and, yes, the writing points are indeed called nibs. On quality vintage pens they are usually 14 kt gold and won't deteriorate. FYI they are 14 kt gold because 1920's ink was so corrosive that only gold could stand up to it. Today's ink is quite benign though.
*************

Seriously. How cool is Jake? Stay tuned for how this all turns out. But I am determined to do this and do it well. Only now it appears I have to also purchase a Lamy 2000 for writing my next book in longhand. I like what Neil has to say about that. He says using the fountain pen and writing in longhand slows him down...he takes more time with his writing and this helps him creatively. This is interesting to me and makes a lot of sense because I am sometimes stunned by the errors in my work when I strictly use the computer...when I print out what I've written, I see the same words used over and over; I see statements/thoughts which I begin but don't properly follow through...oh, it's a regular horror show.

And I rather like, no, love the idea of a vintage pen. And wow, a 14k gold nib. I'm really psyched. So I will save the Waterman for future book signings because you know, I sign thousands at a time. Hahahaha - well, I can dream, can't I? Hmmm. Now. To find out what Neil uses for paper. I picture him with beautiful leather bound journals, but of course if I research it I'm going to find out he uses black and white composition books -- you know, the kind we all used in elementary school and can buy three for a dollar at the discount store. But if I am going to be using a vintage fountain pen with ink, I think a beautiful journal with heavy expensive cream colored paper is in order, don't you?

But in other rather bizarre news, yesterday, before receiving his post, for the first time since I began reading his journal, I dropped Neil a note about all of this -- telling him that I'd bought the Waterman pen and I asked him what kind of paper does he use, etc. Because he usually publishes a Q&A thing from fans on his blog a couple of times a week but I never really expected to be chosen, and in truth, I'm pretty sure he stumbled on me via Google blogsearch or something and it's just an incredible coincidence.

Anyway, lest people start to think I'm the Kathy Bates character in the Stephen King movie, Misery, unless I have some momentous news, that's my last mention of Neil Gaiman for a while. Though he continues to be my hero writer-wise for 2005.

One final thing I will say on the subject, though, is that I've been really depressed this holiday season and have been struggling to write every day. While I haven't been able to pin down exactly why I've been so sad, I think, besides the war in Iraq and the other horrors in connection with the Bush administration, I'm still experiencing a let down following my return from England because I can't wait to go back, coupled with the fact that realistically, this is most likely the last year this family will all be together and living here at Christmas. Julie and Matt will surely have their own apartment by next December; Eric will be touring the world or living in that mansion, and I see myself alone with the computer, which will probably be the only thing decorated in lights.

But getting that comment from Neil Gaiman yesterday and the whole pen experience with Jake has me really flying high and excited to do some serious work today for the first time in weeks. Yay!

Oh, P.S. I am not taking the paralegal job. What was I thinking?????

Off I go, then.

What do Neil Gaiman and Julie Slick Have in Common?

Hmm...this is insane. My post above of the same title keeps disappearing and now this new one appears under it? I mean, I did type this one as a test as a new post, and it came in underneath? Ha ha - I was recently told I was a bottom (yeah right - I didn't even know what a bottom was).

Is it me? Is it blogger? The Anansi Boys? What??? Oh well, the intended post is the one above this, which I will delete as soon as I figure out what the hell is going on.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Ho ho ho


The above are known as Monty Python Rabbit with Pointy Teeth Slippers.

"The bunny slipper just got a bit bloodier with this pointy-toothed carnivore of a rabbit whose massive choppers do little to diminish his cuddly cuteness. But don't let the puffy tail and floppy ears fool you. Put your foot in the wrong end of this guy and you can expect to lose that foot, buster."

No, no, I did not write that advertisement -- it's how it appears in the Urban Outfitters catalogue. Yes, Urban Outfitters, the store I love to trash because of its customer base made up of clueless, trying oh so hard to be hip wannabes, but okay, I admit it...I want those damn slippers and I want them bad.

Family, etc., if you are reading this, you cannot buy them at Urban, they are a dot com special only, and they are one size fits all so you don't even have to bother asking me my shoe size, and even better, I'm going to provide you with a link to buy them right here.

However, if you are feeling more flush, what I really want is a vintage 52 Waterman fountain pen with a flex nib. Of course I am just being a frightful bore because yeah, yeah, Neil Gaiman writes with one of those -- he even writes his books in longhand with one for fuck's sake -- so now naturally I want one, too. Only my books don't sell millions like Neil's do so when I first saw the price of this pen, I stuck out my lower lip and pouted because I can't afford it or let's just say someone who isn't currently working should not be spending so much money on a pen.

But I want it. I want to write my books longhand in fountain pen, too, and after researching, well, nothing will do but a Waterman 52.

So I went on ebay and found some.

Ahem. Family? Friends? Anyone?

Hahahaha - here's what one looks like:



And here's where you can buy it cheaply.

Oh man, you know it's bad if I'm posting pleas for my own presents, but I'm kind of down right now and I can't shake it. I guess I'm excited for Eric but worried at the same time; Julie's so busy I hardly ever see her, and I just got an email from Rock School announcing the winter All-Stars tour and for the first time since Rock School has existed, neither one of my kids will be a part of anything. Well, that's not entirely true, there is a New Years' matinee at The Troc on December 31, 2005 at 2:00 p.m. which will include local bands, and Julie is in Sweatheart, so hopefully I'll be able to attend and see some...sob...old friends.

But hey, in case anyone is reading this outside the Philadelphia area, let me post the itinerary for the new School of Rock All-Star tours, because even though Julie and Eric have graduated the program, this is one hell of a group of talented kids and it's a great family event to attend, especially during the week between Christmas and New Years.

Actually, I'll just post the entire email I received from Paul so you understand it all:
************
There are new All-Stars, 2 groups of them (hence our ability to be in Chicago and Charlottesville on the same day), drawn from our 7 East Coast Schools. They are young, hungry, and awesome. Anyone who has seen one of our All-Star shows knows that these kids ain't no joke, and that the audience is in for a hell of a show.

So please: if you will be in one of these locations, please join us. If you know people in, say, Falls River MA, please tell them to come. And forward this to anyone you feel comfortable doing so.

Thank You.
PG

Tour Info
http://www.schoolofrock.com/allstars.htm

SUNDAY DECEMBER 18TH
*Trenton NJ: The Conduit

MONDAY DECEMBER 26TH
*New Yok City: BB King's
*Falls River MA: Narrows Center for the Arts

TUESDAY DECEMBER 27TH
*Pittsburgh PA: Club Cafe
*Burlington VT: Higher Ground

WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 28TH
*Cleveland OH: House of Blues, 1pm Matinee
*Teaneck NJ: Mexicali Blues

THURSDAY DECEMBER 29TH
*Chicago IL: Martyrs
*Charlottesville VA: Starr Hill

FRIDAY DECEMBER 30TH
*Columbus OH: Little Brothers
*Virginia Beach VA: The Jewish Mother

SATURDAY DECEMBER 31ST
*Philadelphia PA: The Trocadero 2pm Matinee
BOTH GROUPS, PLUS LOCAL SOR BANDS, HOLIDAY SPECTATCULAR!!!
************

In writing news, Opium Magazine just accepted another one of my stories, Embouchure, and I'm guessing it will appear some time late this month or early next month. As readers of this blog know, I love, love, love Opium so I'm pretty happy about that at least. Oh, and I'm doing a reading with an incredible writer, Randall Brown (I have his link on the right hand side here) at Community College on January 31, 2006, so that's pretty cool, too. Though as I remarked to another writer friend of mine, "I should just decline to read myself and offer to hold/turn Randall's pages for him, huh."

That's how good Randall is. Of course I'll be posting more details about that event in late January. Wow, I just realized, that's one day after Julie's birthday. She'll be twenty years old. Holy crap -- someone please tell me how that happened. Wasn't I just twenty? Didn't I just give birth to that little b**** err, I mean, princess?

Oh, here's some other news. I got an email from someone asking me if I was interested in returning to work part-time as a paralegal. The scary thing is, I'm considering it. I mean, if it's only two days a week, I wouldn't mind, especially as it means I could buy five Waterman 52s if I want. What to do, what to do. Oh God, I swore I'd never go back to law.

But it is what I know, damn it.

Sigh.

Ho ho ho.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Neil Gaiman is evil...


Christ, he posts this pic of himself and what's a girl to do...not topple off her chair? Sheesh. This photo is of Neil taking a stroll yesterday on the grounds of his home in Minnesota.

I have a sudden urge to relocate across the country...sigh...

Nah. But I'm normal and admit it: I appreciate a good looking man and Neil, you've already captured my brain with your incredible writing but now, having woken up first thing to that photo, I'm completely lost. Lost, I tell you.

Har har.

So Eric jammed all last night with the Control Freaks and it's so great to see him so psyched.

Meanwhile, their manager just called Eric. Rather than even wait until the end of the month, they're going into the studio all day this coming Thursday and Friday -- that's how fast this band clicked together.

Julie played a gig with McRad last night at a college bar in West Chester. She's also playing with Sweatheart at 1026 Arch Street, Philadelphia, PA next Friday night, December 9. So she's pretty happy and trust me, when she's happy, the whole family is happy. Conversely, when she's miserable...arghhh....

So I visited my Publishers Marketplace webpage yesterday for the first time in literally months and was shocked to see I'm in the top ten most visited pages, especially as over 30,000 people visit that site every day. The reason I went to the site was to change my information, because it was my old news from last year which promoted my book, The Tour, and since the book has totally been revised/rewritten, the title changed to Baby Boomer, and really, the focus entirely shifted, I thought it wise (d'oh) to amend the page though I'm still tweaking a few things -- oh, and still re-writing the novel, too, but I'm starting to feel way pumped about it. Finally. Anyway, while I was on the site, I checked out pages of some pals of mine, and they're really cool. Go have a look at Susan Henderson's and Ellen Meister's.

Anyway, speaking of writing, that's the plan for today. I've been really depressed over a few things happening with some people in my online writers' group if you can believe that insanity on my part (yeah, like how about living in the real world now, Rob...take this as a divine message of sorts), so speaking of Neil Gaiman, I'm going to take his advice. When you're down and out and miserable, MAKE ART! Eric is out teaching drums all day and then is going straight from that to spending the evening with the lovely Carolyn out in the suburbs. Julie is working a double shift at the restaurant and most likely sleeping at Matt's tonight, so I've got no distractions other than my own crazy brain.

And tomorrow Eric is rehearsing with the Control Freaks and Julie is again working a double shift, so that's double writing time in solitude!

Hey, one thing I do have that's nice are gorgeous Christmas lights all over the house and the promise of snow both tomorrow and Monday! Yay! See, now that I stay home and write full time and no longer have to walk to a miserable nine to five job, I can really appreciate things like snow and can actually spend Monday playing outside in it with my dog. Ah...maybe I shouldn't be depressed after all.

Okay. Let me go then.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Eric Slick is a Control Freak! Julie Slick plays with McRad at Rex's!



Okay, so here's some of the news I'm sitting on. Eric Slick is now a Control Freak. Ha ha -- for those of you who know my family, I know you'd all have thought that it would have been Julie who would have gotten that title, but I'm just joking...here's what's really going on.

The Control Freaks, featured above, are an awesome band and as they say on their website, are proud to announce that Eric Slick is their new drummer and they were cool enough to post his resume, too. They're amazing songwriters -- have a listen to the tunes on their site. They played over 150 shows last year; opened for Neal Schon, and even better, go into the studio with award winning producer David Ivory to cut some demo tracks at the end of this month. There's major, major plans and news in connection with this band, but like, you know, I don't want to jinx anything so for now let me just say that they're playing a gig on Saturday, December 17, 2005 at 8:00 p.m. at Coyote's in Seaford, Delaware, and have a television appearance on December 21, 2005 on the Tim Qualls show.

All I know is, my son is really psyched and extremely happy about being their drummer and when he's happy, I'm happy.

So thank you once again to Chuck Treece for introducing Eric to David Ivory and The Control Freaks, and of course to Paul Green at Rock School for introducing both Julie and Eric to Chuck, and well, for everything, really.

Speaking of Chuck and his band, McRad, Ms. Julie Slick will be performing with them tomorrow night at Rex's Bar, 344 West Gay Street, West Chester, PA. Go check them out!

And let me add that when I made that crack about Eric probably touring Europe or having a mansion in LA this time next year, I wasn't kidding. But hopefully he'll also get apartments in New York City and London where dear old Mom can crash.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Is it Christmas yet?


Eric Slick and Julie Slick perform Heart of the Sunrise (off the Rock School soundtrack) with Jon Anderson of YES. Click here for a listen.

So yeah, I have news; I have big news, but I'm not allowed to say anything yet. That sucks, huh. But I'll be able to blab it all soon so bear with me. Or is that bare with me? Har har. Sorry. It's been a rough couple of days and with the holidays approaching, it can only get worse.

Kidding, kidding.

Though I swear, I'm being thwarted bigtime already this year. I bought really pretty lights to hang around the dining area and didn't have an extension cord. So I bought an extension cord which said "Contains on and off switch" and I thought, Oh cool, I can even use this to decorate the overhead light which hangs over the table. Wrong. I opened up the package -- there's no on and off switch and it's not even a fucking extension cord -- it's one of those things you use on your tree to hang multiples of lights. I mean, this thing was totally packaged in the wrong box. And who the hell saves receipts for things like that? Oh screw it, I'll use it on the tree. If I get a tree. Eric's girlfriend is allergic to real trees and if we get one, that means she can't come over for a month. Okay, who am I kidding, three months, because I put my tree up early and wait until all the needles fall off and it's usually Easter before I get around to taking it down. So we're exploring our options. I'm actually not opposed to a fake tree -- hell, I say save the trees (and my vacuum cleaner). But I don't know -- I've always had a real tree; I love the aroma, and if I take it down in time, I can even recycle it because they arrange for pick-up in Philly well into January.

Nah, I say it won't kill us to have an artificial tree this year -- I love Eric's girlfriend and would hate for her not to be able to come over. By this time next year, it won't be an issue -- I'm sure Eric will probably be touring Europe or at the very least, living in his own mansion out in LA or something. Trust me on that one.

We also baked a shitload of cookies. But woe is me, I didn't buy cookie tins, so instead of being neatly packed away as what they are meant to be, i.e., GIFTS, we set them out on plates. And then I ate them all. I did the math. I consumed 140 cookies over a four day period. And I wonder why I'm not feeling so great today.

Sigh...I also wanted to congratulate six friends of mine who have been nominated for Pushcart Awards for their published short stories and wanted to provide links to each story, but my online writing site is down for a change and off the top of my head, I can only remember four of the nominees and three of the stories. Grrr....oh well, it'll give me something to post tomorrow in case I still have to keep a lid on my big news.

Later...maybe xo

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Buy some books for Christmas! (by authors Tom Saunders, Steve Augarde, and Robin Slick!)

Okay, I've got to sit on assorted Julie and Eric news for a couple of days, so in the meantime, I'm going to appeal to you on behalf of some very talented author friends of mine to have a look at their wonderful books, because, you know, what makes a better holiday gift? And if you scroll all the way down, and I hope you do because I would not be urging you to buy these books and take the time to cut and paste in all of these reviews if I didn't think it was so, so worth it, you'll see this insanely generous and flattering email I got on Thanksgiving from a reader who'd just finished Three Days in New York City...



First up is a magnificent collection of short stories written by Tom Saunders, which you can buy right here.

Take a look at some of the reviews this book received:

Wonderful stories, superbly written. May 29, 2005
Reviewer: Tania Casselle
Two months after reading this collection, many of the stories are still vivid in my mind. I feel like I've stumbled across a modern classic, with fresh storylines, strong characters, and original language.

My favorites include Aunt Frank's Legacy, Remember Us, The Seal Man, and Nave Nave Mahana, but to be honest it's hard to pick any one story out. It's rare to read a book of short fiction where the standard stays so high throughout, but the diversity and richness of this bunch of stories kept me hooked. I read some to my husband as we drove cross-country, and he loved them too.

Saunders is a bold stylist, not afraid of examining both the dark and the tender sides of life. The mood is sometimes funny, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes hauntingly scary. He shows good insight into the ridiculous aspect of human nature and doesn't hesitate to point that up. In some stories I snorted out loud at the witty observations, in others I was scared for what would happen next. Often I was just deeply moved.

I'm looking forward to re-reading soon, and for anyone who enjoys entertaining and literary short fiction, I'd say that Brother is a no-brainer.

***************
Superb Collection!, February 25, 2005
Reviewer: Katrina Denza

In the title story, successful composer Griffin Curzon attempts suicide and his inventor brother tries to resurrect him from his rapid mental decline to the man he once was. In the heart of his illness, Griffin writes in a letter to his brother this apt metaphor for life:

" `Brother,
We see merit in numbers, in sequences. We search for the infinite in variety. We are imbeciles. Every note of music is a whole, deep symphony of sound. Play it soft, than softer still, breath on it, then strike it hard, harder, hit it so it rings on and on, the texture wavering and changing. Then add rhythm, slow, slower, a little bit faster, build it up, rat-ta-tat. There is staccato, legato, on and on and on. One note, one beautiful, indivisible note.'"


In "Aerobatics," a father must face the inevitable changes in his relationship with his adult daughter, and in "The Seal Man," a lonely woman sees hope for herself in the arrival of a stranger to her island. The characters in these pages don't just make do, they transcend their circumstances. And the reader will find a variety of people here: transients who move into an abandoned zoo; an eccentric patron of the arts; a man coming back to his grandmother's house after her death; an infirm man bracing himself for death.

From "Sweet Mercy Leads Me On:"

"Now I'm lying awake trying to think of when I was at my happiest. Because of the drugs I've been given it's difficult to focus on anything but the present. My thoughts zigzag back and forth like a dog let loose in a park, picking up a scent only to discard it when a better one comes along."

Intelligent and sophisticated, these stories showcase Saunders' ability to render imaginative lives and settings in exquisite detail. Each story in the collection is a unique and lively world, yet each carries the mark of a sure hand, and the cohesive glue that binds them together is Saunders' understated brilliance and compassion for his characters.

If you have not already done so, I suggest you purchase a copy of this superb collection. You'll be glad you did.
*******************
Exquisite stories, February 9, 2005
Reviewer: Kathryn Koromilas
Tom Saunders has tuned into the deep dark secrets of our world, of happiness and sadness, and has articulated them in the stories collected in "Brother, what strange place is this?".

The title story with the brother Griffin jumping out of a window only to survive and end up in an institution for the insane addresses the title question in an emotional and philosophical way, but really, all the stories in this collection are studies of the same question.

"Aerobatics" is the one that most got to me, the one I can't forget: A father tells his daughter about the time, when he was a boy, that he came home from school to see to his mother crying, "breaking her heart". He explains that up until that moment he was happy and then "suddenly I was landed with this knowledge about my mother...I wasn't prepared for what I saw...I wasn't prepared for a world where that sort of sadness was possible."

You have to be prepared to read this collection. You won't be, of course. Like the little boy who is suddenly faced with the shock of his mother in tears, one can never be prepared to face the depth of the world's sadness (for the boy) or strangeness (for the brother, Griffin).

Yes, I recommend this collection of stories. Tom Saunders is a sensitive and intelligent writer who is concerned with the truth of the human condition.

**************
Rare quality. , December 29, 2004
Reviewer: Ed Touchette
A Compeling Exploration

Tom Saunders' collection is the work of a true artist.
His writing leads you through a range of human interaction and emotion. In stories like THE RED TRAIN, Saunders tackles subjects that are delicate, controversial at best and with great sensitivity lays it out for the reader to advance conclusions. Without pretense or presumption he offers the reader the opportunity to explore. A true gift Brother, What Strange Place Is This? is a remarkable collection by a remarkable writer.
************
Bob Arter is a happy reader, December 28, 2004
Reviewer: Robert W. Arter "Happy reader"

After decades of minimalism, modernism, postmodernism, and batty maunderings, Saunders' careful, credible storytelling is as an oasis to the parched mind. My own personal favorite in this varied collection, The Calle de Obra Pia, will sit you down on a piano bench next to a man who is hopelessly in love. You may like him--and this is true of all of Saunders' characters--or you may not, but I tell you that you will care about him, you will know him, you will very likely find in him yourself.

And this is the truth that infects Saunders' stories, and draws the reader into them: he does not write about Everyman; instead, he continues to show us variations on the species. None is wholly good nor entirely sympathetic. Each is as imperfect, as yearning, and as capable of greatness in small spaces as are you, as am I.

This collection is clean air. Do yourself a favor.

****************
Pure Genius, December 28, 2004
Reviewer: Robin Slick

Tom Saunders' debut short story collection took my breath away. These are timeless classics -- quirky, colorful, and incredibly intelligent. Each story stands alone as a perfect little gem; they are a rare treat for the reader who not only likes to be entertained but for the reader who likes to be challenged as well. Think Raymond Carver; think Barry Hannah; think Tobias Wolff and maybe, just maybe, you'll get an idea of the genius of Tom Saunders. There are tinges of subtle humor throughout certain pieces, bittersweet reflections in others..just an amazing, amazing read. Brother, What Strange Place is This is akin to discovering a wonderful hidden treasure...a treasure to be shared and savored.
*************
unique and stunning , December 28, 2004
Reviewer: susan_d
British author Tom Saunders' debut collection of short stories, Brother, What Strange Place is This is a glorious success. Multi-layered and eclectic, the work showcases the literary talents and broad imagination of its creator. Saunders breathes life into a multitude of styles, characters, and settings, weaving strings of charming wit, gorgeous description, interesting plots, and heartfelt pathos into this gorgeously crafted tapestry.

From the title story, turn of the century brothers, one a talented pianist relegated to a mental institution and the other desperately trying to reach and understand him, to a modern-day father coming to grips with daughter's independence, he never fails to strike a unique and human chord. The language and phrasings are thick and lush, nearly an embarrassment of delightful, dizzying prose. Saunders has a keen knack for plucking unusual, but perfectly suited, words to highlight and accompany the themes and voices and tones of the pieces. His styles and subjects have a diversity and range. He plays with the clever and cheeky, such as in "Not For What You Are", which tells the story of a baker who believes he is the reincarnation of painter Dante Gabriel. And he doesn't shy from the tragic, such as in "The Seal Man" - the story of a man shipwrecked on a small island with brutal people. He takes a leap inside an abandoned zoo in "Nave Nave Mahana", where the homeless congregate and make shelter for themselves while finding hope in a stray monkey.

This is a captivating read, where the stories are fresh and engrossing, unpredictable, sometimes disturbing, and all of them are rendered with precision and a finely-tuned wordsmith's care.
***************
Emotional Depth, Memorable Characters, December 28, 2004
Reviewer: Lydia Theys
This is a collection of incredibly varied short stories with one thing in common: the characters are quirky and often inhabit unusual worlds, yet I almost always recognized something of myself in them.

Mr Saunders does a beautiful job of setting the mood and of drawing the reader into it. There is a sense of quiet introspection about the stories that will leave you thinking that for a few brief moments, you got to know these people, and that you are happy you did. You won't find any convenient plot turns, melodramatic coincidences or neat-and-easy endings. Just a collection of stories about people and about big and small moments in their lives, all of which seem to matter.

I would love to see a novel from Mr Saunders and judging from the quality of the writing in these stories, I think we will.
*************
And from Steve Augarde, Celandine, the second book of his Various trilogy, has just been published, and you can purchase both books here.

Below are some reviews for those two magnificent books. Now, Steve says they are "young adult", but I can tell you firsthand that they are also very much for grown-ups; Steve writes beautiful, intelligent fantasy like my other hero, best-selling author Neil Gaiman. And if that's not enough, he is also an amazing artist and responsible for the covers of both books, as well as the incredible artwork within:





Here are some reviews for Celandine and The Various:

Celandine, November 8, 2005
Reviewer: reabooks from Nr. Exmouth, E. Devon United Kingdom
Every once in a while a children's book bursts upon the literary scene and carries children of all ages before it. Celandine is one that belongs in the company of such classics as Watership Down, The Secret Garden, and the later Harry Potter books.
Set in the Somerset levels at the time of the First World War, it brilliantly evokes the brutality of home education under a sadistic governess, the even greater tribulations of a callously cruel boarding school, interspersed with flights into the world of the Various.
Running parallel to the troubles of our heroine, Celandine, the Northern tribes of the Various are engaged in a hazardous trek to seek the long lost Southern survivors that have formed a secret enclave in a wood on the farm where Celandine lives.
The course of the narrative, although riveting, must remain unrevealed here for fear of reducing the huge pleasure that any reader is boumd to experience.
************
5 out of 5 stars Worth the wait!, November 6, 2005
Reviewer: Joy from Leeds
This long awaited sequel to "The Various" will take you back to an era almost a century ago, just before the outbreak of World War I and before women’s’ rights. Celandine is “different”, an exotically beautiful and high spirited young girl not only misunderstood by adults but by those her own age, too. Her parents fail to recognize that she has a very special magic, and therefore she is the forgotten one in a family of two older brothers, a loving but helpless mother, and a stern, unforgiving father. So not knowing what else to do with her after Celandine finally retaliates following several incidents with a cruel, sadistic governess (which her parents refuse to acknowledge or believe), they send her off to boarding school, where she is teased and taunted by the other students and severely disciplined by her teachers. But Celandine has a secret. Before being sent to away to school, during an accident in which she strikes her head while playing with her brother on the vast property owned by her father, she meets Fin, a member of The Various, a tribe of little people living unnoticed among the “Gorgi”, or giants – humans, like Celandine herself, who are fighting for their survival. Breaking all rules of the tribe, Fin takes her through a secret tunnel to meet them. Once Celandine convinces the Various she is not their enemy, they accept her help – everything from useful gifts like fishing hooks to teaching them to read and write. Their trust in her is complete when they offer their home among the hidden caves in the forest as a refuge when circumstances at school become too horrifying to bear and Celandine learns of an unspeakable tragedy at home…events that make it impossible for her to return. She is lost, she is lonely, but somehow she becomes part of this strange, mystical community as she struggles to come to terms with all that has happened while realizing that The Various themselves are in terrible danger as well from not only the outside world but from forces within their own ranks -- and that this danger extends to her, too. Celandine's experiences are a fascinating mixture of humor and heartache that make for a fast paced, nail biting adventure, and there is a direct link to her own personal torment and joy to that of The Various. Like them, she is a lost soul who is searching for a place in what seems to be a cold, cruel world, and the book’s tender, beautiful conclusion will have many reaching for a box of tissues.
***************

5 out of 5 stars a wonderful read, March 9, 2005
STRING(top-500-reviewer_5245) Reviewer: ilonacat from EASTHAM, WIRRAL United Kingdom
I was attracted to this book by its cover and by the Somerset setting- I deliberately don't say "background" because the landscape in this book is almost a character in its own right. . Suffice to say that Midge, a contemporary girl, encounters a winged horse in a disused barn. . .and nothing will ever be the same again. There are fairies galore, and none of them is of the glittery Disney variety-they are the genuine article-British fairies,many of whom are squat, grotesque and hairy whilst a few are unnervingly beautiful. Both Midge's world and that of the "Various" are rendered in superb and lively writing.The landscape of field and forest is rendered beautifully, as is the Somerset dialect that the fairies speak.

I'm very much looking forward to the remaining books of the trilogy.
************

An Enjoyable Book, February 17, 2005
(top-500-reviewer_5245) Reviewer: cogsworth from United Kingdom
An enjoyable story about 12 year-old Midge, who comes to stay on her cousin's farm and discovers a fairy world in a soon to be demolished forest. These are not the Enid Blyton twee fairies - or the gun toting elves of Artemis Fowl - but something much more believable. There are several races/communities each with their own cultures living in uneasy alliance with one another. When Midge rescues a tiny winged horse, she is invited to share her knowledge of the forth-coming demolition with the Fairy Queen (described as a tubby little creature in faded finery), and so doing, puts her cousins in mortal danger.

The author has created a believable world, paying immense attention to detail. However, this strength means that the book is quite lengthy for its intended age group and at times the pacing is rather slow. Illustrations are pleasant, but rather too few. I like the notion that the race of Fairies considered to be of the lowest rank are, in fact, the only ones who have learnt to read and who appreciate art and music. Their world, however, is in danger - and it is up to Midge and her cousins to save the day. But only if they can escape the bows and arrows of those faries who believe their intrusion is a threat rather than a rescue mission. --This text refers to the Paperback edition.
*****************

5 out of 5 stars One of my favourite books this year, October 27, 2004
Reviewer: A reader from England
Other reviewers here have well covered the plot. I would simply like to add that this is a fantastic book. The cover is lovely - it stood out on the bookshelf and made me pick it up - and the story, characters and style are wonderful.

I didn't want to finish it but at the same time couldn't put it down. Now I cannot wait for the follow up book. It will be well worth the wait I'm sure.
******************

5 out of 5 stars From the New York Times. July 11. 2004, July 10, 2004
Reviewer: A reader from United Kingdom
FROM THE NEW YORK TIMES. July 11 2004
THE VARIOUS
Written and illustrated by Steve Augarde.
David Fickling Books, $16.95. (Ages 10 and up)
In this rousing addition to the durable genre of British fairy lit, a 12-year-old girl named Midge is packed off by her violinist mother for an extended summer vacation at her uncle's ramshackle farm in the West Country. Grumpy about being left alone with the family eccentric, Midge discovers he is actually quite kind, if a bit dotty, and begins to feel at home as she explores her rural surroundings.
One day she discovers a tiny winged horse wounded by an old piece of farm machinery. When she nurses it back to health she learns -- telepathically -- about the realm of the ''Various,'' five tribes of ''little people'' confined by human encroachment to a dense, bristle-protected patch of woods known as the Royal Forest. With the tribes' resources drying up and extinction looming, the horse was sent to scout for new frontiers, unaware, until Midge tells him, that the forest had already been put up for sale by her Gorji (human) uncle.
Before long, Midge and the winged horse are making their case before a full muster of the knee-high Various, presided over by the comically addled Queen Ba-betts. From there, the story swings back and forth between the Royal Forest -- where we learn of the ancient ways of the Troggles, Tinklers, Irckri, Wisps and Naiads -- and the farm, where Midge is soon joined by her two cousins and where the two worlds inevitably collide.
Steve Augarde, an illustrator and author who has worked on two animated BBC television series, sprinkles a few black-and-white line drawings into the narrative, but is careful to leave his characters' appearance to the imagination.
The first instalment in a planned trilogy, ''The Various'' is long on atmospherics and rolls along at an unhurried pace that might test the patience of more jaded young readers. But there's also plenty of action -- including a gripping showdown between some little people and the hulking, remorseless barn cat Tojo the Assassin (''the scourge of all living things that dared cross his path'') and enough foreshadowing of mysterious secrets and future culture clashes to lock in an audience for the next two volumes.
SCOTT VEALE
*****************

5 out of 5 stars From The Washington Post, May 23, 2004
Reviewer: A reader from Yorkshire. United Kingdom
Sunday, April 11, 2004; Page D08

Twelve-year-old Midge, whose father is dead and whose mother is a concert violinist, has been shipped to spend the summer with her rather bumbling Uncle Brian. Midge has a strange sense of having been on the family's old farm in western England before, and almost immediately odd things start to happen.

For one, she discovers a tiny, wounded, winged horse. The horse leads her to several tribes of small beings, called "the Various." The creatures are barely eking out an existence in the woods on her uncle's property -- woods that are slated for development. When good-hearted Midge tries to warn the little people, some of them turn on her, and things go badly. Then her two cousins show up, complicating the already dangerous situation she has made for herself and for the Various.

This book mixes the fanciful with very real situations, such as missing a mom and not getting along with cousins. Midge and her family are easy to relate to and the Various are convincingly detailed, so you'll find yourself lost in this story. The magic seems real, the real seems magic and the book weaves a spell you'll be reluctant to break. Thankfully, it's the first in a trilogy.

© 2004 The Washington Post Company
**************


And of course one more time, let me hawk my book because the sequel is finished and like, you need to read part one before jumping into that. But a few days ago, on Thanksgiving, I received a fan letter from a woman who is part of my online writing group. This letter thrilled me, because as I've noted on several occasions, there are over 65,000 people worldwide who belong to that group and it contains some of the most talented people in the world, such as the above mentioned Tom Saunders and Steve Augarde.

Robin,

I just finished Three Days In New York City, and this is my poor attempt at some resemblance of half-ass intelligent feedback.

Reading this was my greatest gift-to-myself since my hysterectomy (and this is a compliment. If you haven’t had one, do it, you’ll never regret it!)

(Note from me: Um, I think I'll pass but I'll take your word for it)

I won’t tell you that reading it changed my life: It didn’t, and I have some serious doubts about anyone who says that merely reading one book could actually change a life, but I will say it gave me a good, wholesome, maybe I’m not totally nuts and perhaps there are other people like me out there who aren-t really nuts either feeling that I haven’t experienced in a very long time. To say the book made me laugh out loud, rue my current sexless marriage, and pat myself on the back for being so at-one with the guilty pleasure of sex-via-reading about it would be too much to actually say on paper. After all, I am paranoid at sounding like a total idiot, and this fan letter is beginning to sound a lot like Richard’s porn writing fiasco. (All I need is a few phrases like “his blood-engorged member” or “feint with wanton lust” ---no, even he wasn’t that bad.

(Note from me: Richard is the name of the male character in my book, and yeah, he does write porn as a side thing though his primary occupation is that he's an attorney)

You drew me in on the first page – the paragraph about woman next to you and the guy in the turban – and then that wonderful sentence-I wonder if men can sniff these things out. I didn’t put it down ‘til the last page.

Ok, I lie. I went to the bathroom a couple of times. I checked on my 16-year-old, who had her wisdom teeth out yesterday and is high/comatose on real drugs. But it was a nonstop read, right down to those last few pages that signal the inevitable end you don’t want to happen yet. You rock. Truly.

I have always read a lot, and wanting/trying to write has really called my attention to how much has already been written and how much there is I haven’t read: Even to call oneself “well-read” is a near-impossibility in this age. I won’t say that you have invented a new genre, since I guess this is close to impossible as well, I’ll simply say that I, in my lowly, southern redneckedness, have never read anything quite like it before now. And to say “thank you” for making it available to me is not near enough.

No matter how I try to dress it up and disguise it, all my fiction is in some way autobiographical. I know (from some online “conversation” whether through email, workshopping at Zoe, or IM) that your life finds its way into your work as well, but you are a stellar example to the rest of us. You take a fantasy, a mid-life crisis, or simply an insoluble situation and use it to make something creative, intellectual, and damned funny all at once. This is what our alter egos, the ones that never really surface, do in our lives, yet you’ve put it out there and shown us that it can be done for real. Like I said before, a mere “thank you” is just not enough.

Two years ago, you helped me with a flash story I really liked, one of my favorites that no one else seemed to get. You red-inked it like a pro and made it exactly what I wanted it to be all along.

Now I can order you from Amazon.com--- this may be my only touch with greatness in this lifetime.

But I’ll always remember the perfect teacher that made me feel like F. Scott Fitzgerald. To find out that’s really who SHE was, is just that more amazing. (Okay, I’ll stop gushing now, I realize you’re seeing Gina and John without the sex. God, how boring….)

( Note from me: Gina and John are the characters in "Richard's" abortion of a porn story which he reads to the female heroine during one of the "hot" scenes in the book)

Well, today is Thanksgiving, and I guess this is my shot at being thankful.

Thanks for making this a happy holiday.

And when can I get the next installment?

Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas, and the Best of Ground Hog’s
Days!
*********
Wow. So how cool was that letter. It really had me choked up.

I am not exactly sure when the sequel will be out, but look at the cover -- isn't it pretty?



Oh, regarding Three Days in New York City, you can buy an autographed copy here.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Thanksgiving: Three Days After (or oh, my stomach...)



I'm sorry, I know I've posted it before, but I just love this picture of the old Rock School gang taken in LA last summer -- right to left on front row: Eric Slick, Madison Flego, and Teddi Tarnoff; back row right to left -- Julie Slick, C.J. Tywoniak.

So yeah, I'm still in after-Thanksgiving hell, which means I haven't stopped eating and am actually going out to dinner tonight because tomorrow is Gary's birthday and no one will be around to celebrate due to work, etc. so we may as well do it now. We're going to Rembrandts, where Julie works, so that she can be our waitress and we can torture her and she can bring Gary dessert with a candle, etc. etc. Since Gary hates computers and thinks they are responsible for the decline of society today as he knows it (and also thinks the government is watching him through the monitor but that's a whole 'nother story) and therefore goes nowhere near them so there's no way in hell he's reading this blog, I can tell you that we got him an official Flyers team jersey -- Simon Gagne, who ironically wears #12, for his birthday present -- and that is the kind of thing Gary will love because we save the music stuff for Christmas and it's hard to come up with something else original just one month before. I can thank Julie for this one because I didn't have a clue and this was her idea so good on her.

I have to laugh, though. Do you know what those things cost? I was shocked! Even the stupid hats are $50.00. I'm talking the official team versions. Well, what did I expect? It costs $85.00 a ticket if you want a lower level seat at a Flyers' game. So that means for a family of four to go to a two hour game, you're spending $400.00. I'm sorry, but that's fucking pathetic. Anyway, along those lines, the other night, we're watching a hockey game on television and Gagne gets a hat trick, which, in hockey world, means he scored three goals. Common tradition is that if you are wearing a hat and you're in attendance at the game, you throw your hat to the ice and then the security crew comes out and collects them all and they are stored in a big glass display case at the Wachovia Center where the Flyers play and they list the names of all Flyers who scored hat tricks.

So Gagne scored his third goal of the evening and the T.V. camera scanned the crowd. Not one person tossed their hat.

"They're not tossing their hats! They're not tossing their hats! What's wrong with those stupid yuppies?" Gary screamed.

Heh. They didn't toss their hats cos' they're $50.00. See, I knew that because I just bought the jersey for him on line and tried everything to find them cheaper than list price, but if I did that, they were bootlegs which of course would have been unacceptable. Had I bought him the damn hat and he'd have tossed it anonymously to the ice when Gagne scored a hat trick, I'd have killed him.

Anyway..

I know you're all dying to know: Did Eric get the gig with the Control Freaks? He jammed with them all day today. Well, what do you think?

Ha ha - actually he doesn't know yet; they are deciding between Eric and another drummer and will get back to him Monday or Tuesday so whatever. I'm not worried about Eric -- he's going to fulfill that legend prophecy one way or another. But this band has a potential major record deal, so of course it would be excellent. Stay tuned for the answer. Either way, he's totally cool.