Just a quick note...

You can catch the fabulously talented Eric Slick tonight at the North Star Bar at approximately 10:30 p.m. this evening when he sits in on a song or two with the awesome jam band, The Breakfast. If you want to listen to a fantastic example of their lead guitar player, Tim Palmieri, just click on the You Tube which I am posting here and permanently keep on the right hand side of this blog...Tim sat in with Eric and Project Object on Frank Zappa's Cosmik Debris in Baltimore last year.

Naturally, I will be back here tomorrow morning with photos and a full report as well as some new and exciting Adrian Belew Power Trio tour info.

Later,
xo

I survived the 2007 RT Convention

Okay, now that I have your attention...

Getting any idea at all about my week at the RT Convention?

Let me start at the very beginning and then I'll tell you a bit about the guy in the photo. Ha ha - his name is Travis.

So my flight to Houston last Wednesday was eventful, damn it. We flew over tornadoes and monsoons and it was like being on a roller coaster for two hours at least. I'm not afraid to fly but I hate amusement rides and that awful, not being able to touch bottom feeling you get when you are unnaturally tossed around so when I got off the plane I was totally disoriented.

Which meant I could not find the shuttle to the hotel anywhere. I walked around the airport dazed and confused, out in the ground transport area where it had to be one hundred per cent humidity, hot, and rainy...and then I almost got hit by a cab. Anyway, that woke me the hell up and I walked back into the airport, determined to find the shuttle which was, according to the RT website, especially there for us. Oh well. After asking about a hundred clueless people I gave up and used a private service to get to the Hyatt.

On the way there, I saw this and almost fell off my seat laughing:



That would be the law office of Tim Hootman, Esquire. Yep, an attorney with an office in a gaudily painted trailer complete with a large, paper mache naked woman with rather large, err, hootmans, out in front to greet clients.

Anyway, between the delays caused by the weather and my own ineptitude as well as those of the Houston Hobbie Airport employees, I arrived at the hotel around 3:30 p.m. as opposed to 1:00 p.m. as anticipated. And I was freaking starving.

I checked into the Hyatt -- pretty nice hotel -- stumbled into my room and crashed onto the bed. Oh please make the room stop spinning, I begged, burying my face into the pillow.

And then I remembered Oh Crap, I need to register for the actual conference, get my badge, schedule, etc. I dragged myself out of bed, unpacked my suitcase, and headed back down to the lobby.

"Oh, RT registration is on the third floor," the concierge told me after I again wandered around aimlessly. (This is not the hotel or RT's fault...solely mine...okay, not really mine, the fault of the bad weather and rocky flight).

So I went up to the third floor and naturally got lost -- this is a huge, huge hotel but then I saw a bunch of women wearing RT badges and they kindly pointed me in the right direction...and of course once I got there, there was a gigantic line.

I stood there hopping from foot to foot, praying I wouldn't have a panic attack or pass out from hunger. I also knew I had at least two parties that night -- a private party being held in one of the suites at the hotel by author Kally Jo Surbeck, which, I'm going to tell you right now, was probably the best party I attended all week...and the Ellora's Cave Moulin Rouge Party, where I was planning on wearing my new Betsey Johnson dress (see prior post), drinking champagne, and eating decadent chocolate.

Anyway, I finally registered and was given my cool badge, which was blue and said "published author". Readers and aspiring authors got yellow badges which had either "reader" or "aspiring author" and their names on it; book sellers got green ones, and publishers orange. So all of us with blue badges pretty much stalked those with green and orange, and oh god, I saw a whole new side of myself that week which I will go into in a minute.

Oh yeah, these badges were attached to these little badge holders we were supposed to wear around our necks on long black strings but naturally I could never do anything that uncool so I strung mine through my jeans belt and wore it long and hanging like I was working backstage at a rock festival.

Ha ha, what can I saw, once a rebel, always a rebel.

They also handed me a glossy booklet which, hooray, gave me the rooms, times, and information for every single event that week so I no longer had to walk up to other clueless people and ask them where to go.

I got back to my room around 4:30 and my hunger was now making me hallucinate. With two alcohol laced parties ahead of me and no real clue as to whether there'd be anything but snacks and chocolate, I ordered room service. I was still too frazzled to go back down to the lobby and schmooze...even though the lobby looked to have a very nice restaurant as well as...bleh...a Starbucks. That was the biggest bummer of the week -- the hotel only stocked Starbucks coffee. I'd normally rather drink a cup of cigarette ash because they are one in the same and in Houston, smoking is still allowed in hotels so I probably could have dumped out an ashtray and had a free drink instead of $4.50 (yes...that is what they charged...I'm still reeling) for a cup of Starbucks drek.

I ordered a grilled salmon salad and a glass of good wine. I really needed to decompress. But as I've said here on many occasions, I am a lousy drunk, and that one glass of wine combined with nothing but a salad made me even dizzier/giddier. Oh well. I sat on the edge of the bed, talked myself down from all the weirdness. Have I mentioned that some people walk around in costume the whole week? I kept a low profile and watched a little television until it was time to go to Kally Jo's party. I decided to stay in my jeans for that because the Ellora's Cave Party three hours later was formal and there is only so long I can be comfortable in a dress and panty hose.

Kally's party was a blast -- not too many people, and the ones that were there were either Phaze authors I already knew or women I'd met at the RT Convention in St. Louis two years ago so it was a very cool crowd and I felt instantly better. I reached for a shot of something that looked chocolately on a large round table in the middle of the room because it had a can of whipped cream next to it.

"No, no, Robin. You can't just squirt the whipped cream in that drink and swill it normally -- that's a bl*wjob!" (Ahem. I am deliberately misspelling that word because I don't want every knucklehead who googles the real word to find my blog)

"It's a what?" I told you I'm not a drinker...I was never into going to clubs, either, so drinks with names like bl*wjobs and the large display of colored liquids in testtubes also on the table meant nothing to me.

"A bl*wjob! You have to bend over, wrap your lips around the shot glass without using your hands, and drink up," someone said. And then they topped the shot with whipped cream for me.

"So you are telling me I have to stick my face in that and drink it without using my hands?" I asked dubiously, wondering how the hell I could manage that and really, did I even want to?

But then I realized: Robin, you are here to sell books. You are here to schmooze. You know if it were up to you, you would hide in your room all week. Get into the spirit. Kally was nice enough to throw this party and invite you...you really like Kally...drink the damn bl*wjob.



Okay, how sad is that? Again I will reiterate how un-photogenic I am, which will be demonstrated further in the photos below, but in this one I look like I'm at a deranged pie eating contest. I was so nervous -- I had my hands behind my back scared to move lest I break the rules; I don't even remember anyone holding up my hair but there you have it in the photo so someone must have -- anyway, I could not do it. If I had attempted to put that entire shot glass in my mouth filled to the top with Bailey's Irish Cream and whipped cream, I would have spilled it everywhere and I would have been a sticky mess. Ohhhhh...now I know why they're called...heh...never mind. So I made a few feeble attempts, and when people got tired of egging me on and a new victim walked into the room, I quickly drank it up like a normal person and then moved on to the stuff in the test tubes.

Pink and green and pretty tasty -- I still never asked exactly what it was I was drinking, but I believe it was flavored vodka.

An hour later, I found my way back to my room. It only took me ten trys to get the door card to work. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and almost had a stroke. My hair was sticking straight out from the humidity; I was so tipsy I had this silly assed look on my face that I couldn't get rid of even though I tried to physically re-arrange my features with my hands...and I was like "Oh no. No, no, no. How will I ever make it to the Moulin Rouge Party?"

I decided if I attempted a nap, I'd never wake up, so instead I washed my face and pulled my new dress off the hanger.

Uh-oh. I couldn't get it over my head. I kept trying, I really did, but my head ended up in the sleeve one time; and then, when I finally accomplished getting my head through the right hole, I realized I had the damn thing on backwards. As I'm crashing into furniture trying to rectify the situation, I realized I couldn't get it off. It's a really tight, form fitting black velvet dress without a zipper. I sat on the bed, the floor, tried bending over like a pretzel...could not do it. By then I was sweating and hyperventilating and my hair was like this huge scary Afro and I vaguely thought: How the hell can I go to a party tonight?

Because you must, Robin.

Finally, after at least fifteen minutes of struggling, I was able to get undressed.

Without even giving it a second thought, I changed into my pajamas.

It was now around 7:00 p.m.; I had two more hours until the party. I would just stretch out on the bed and take a little nap.

When I opened my eyes again, the bedside clock said 4:00 a.m.

Okay, so I missed my first big RT party. Robin the socialite was already on a roll before the convention was in full swing.

The next morning authors Christina Skye and Bobbi Smith threw a breakfast mixer. They are probably two of the biggest superstars at the convention -- I would later learn to host an event like that costs thousands -- and oh my god, a glance at the program told me something incredible. By the good graces of the alphabet, I would be seated in between the two of them at the book fair/signing on Saturday, which is what all of these parties and mixers led up to. You talked to people and made friends for four days; then they would remember you and come to your table and buy your book on Saturday. Skye, Slick, Smith. How freaking lucky was I? Both women had large lines of fans wherever they went. I would get their run off by sitting at my pathetic, empty spot looking sad and lonely.

Well, this was all in my head of course...because yep, I did indeed start acting like a social butterfly that morning and once I started, I could not shut up. This was good because later that morning and throughout the day, I was on duty at Club RT, which was a large room where every publisher had a long table for their authors to sit and chat with fans and give out promo items.



There I am sitting in between Phaze author Alessia Brio on my left and our publisher, Kat Lively, on my right.

I'm serious. Maybe it was the two cups of Starbucks coffee I had at the Smith/Skye mixer; maybe it was nerves, but I could not shut up. I talked to everyone and anyone who came to our table; I talked Alessia and Kat's ears off...I just could not keep quiet.

It was pretty cool I was in such a state because that night was the night I was dreading the most -- the faery ball.

I'm sorry. I love my faery crown...which I am going to wear at all future readings...heh..well, at least for a while...but my dress made me look like Moby Dick. Here's a photo, but don't even bother to click on it...I shrunk it down for damage control.



There I am looking dazed and confused with my fellow Phaze authors, some of whom were a little too comfortable in their costumes (snort).

Okay, I'm kidding, I'm kidding.

The women in charge of this event really did a nice job, though. The room was beautifully decorated, especially the colored light centerpieces, and we were fed Beef Wellington and this insane chocolate mousse thing for dessert with fresh raspberries. Again, Robin the strangely outgoing talked, took photos, smiled...and kept visiting the bar for courage.

By the time dinner was over, I had to get the hell out of there before I did something stupid. Okay, stupider.

Oh. I just realized I forgot something. We also had a luncheon that day, which I walked out of. It's just that it seems to be that a lot of the women there are either part of military families or are very pro-Bush...anyway, when they served us lunch a speaker stood up and started cheering on our men in Iraq; made an announcement that one of the husbands who was just sent home was being deployed again...and the whole room burst into wild applause. I was horrified and said to myself "You'd better get the hell out of here before everyone starts singing God Bless America" and you scream at the top of your lungs "Impeach and Arrest Bush and Cheney! They have committed murder, you fools!"

I mean, I was over caffinated, over-tired, and another person had entered my body that day so I could not trust what I'd do. My leaving that luncheon was brilliant, actually, and by walking across that crowded seated ballroom while the speaker was still in full pro-war mode was one of my favorite non-writer moments of the event. Yes, I know. I am a legend/rebel in my own mind, but nevertheless, I made myself very happy by doing that. At least I wasn't a total sell-out.

The next day brought more time at Club RT where I really had a blast. People I'd met the day before stopped by to talk, they picked up my book, my publisher told them if they bought it at Club RT she'd take $5 off the list price so it flew off the table before the actual book sale on Saturday.

We also had another luncheon that day and I decided to go and play nice. But while standing nervously in line, I noticed a tall, attractive man giving out books and standing next to him was a woman signing them. Uh-oh, he had an orange badge on. That meant publisher. Who was he? I grabbed one of the novels he was offering. Oh. My. God. He was Ken Siman, publisher of Virgin Books. What a perfect fit he would be for my novel! I'm afraid I went into full Insane Robin overdrive and pitched him my book while waiting in line. But check this out. He knew about Rock School, he knew about Adrian Belew...and oh holy crap, despite my obnoxious, aggressive behavior while this poor man was trying to help his new author distribute and sign books, he graciously invited me to send him my manuscript directly. Arghhh...do you think I said yes and thanked him enough times?

So yep, my first act upon returning to Philly was to visit the post office. Light a candle for me or something, will you?

Anyway, that little encounter made my day and I was on cloud nine for the remainder...so much so that I didn't even worry about the vampire party that night. Oh. Excuse me. The Wild, Wild, West Vampire Party. Which I guess meant fangs and a cowboy hat? I had no idea. All I knew was, I'd missed wearing my Betsey Johnson dress at the Moulin Rouge party; I was going to wear it to the vampire thing instead because of course when I tried my vampire dress on, which also had no zipper, I managed to rip it practically in half pulling it over my head.

What, do I have the biggest head in the world? Great. Just what I need. Another complex.



There I am with author Eden Bradley, who apparently took her role as vampire very seriously. Do I look like I was enjoying it a little too much? Nah. Trust me on this. Once again, two glasses of wine and I was three sheets to the wind.

Needless to say, I ate my dinner...which oddly enough was billed as a Texas barbecue and instead were two sausages on a plate in a pool of sauce...and I couldn't help but think to myself "Oh, I see how it is here. First you have to drink a bl*wjob, then you have to actually eat the....never mind."

I booked out early once again and apparently missed a lot of unladylike behavior.

There is a God.

Oh. I just realized I forgot to tell you about Travis and friends. Travis, in case you have forgotten by now, is the boy whose photo appears first in this mini-series of a blogpost. Travis was one of I guess ten or so cover models vying for the title of Mr. Romance. Whoever won that contest also won the opportunity to be the next Dorchester Publishing cover model...you know, the next Fabio. So these guys walked around all week, having their photos taken with "fans"...because really, a lot of romance readers attend this convention and they live for this stuff. Look, I'm going to be honest here. Most of these guys are either way too buff, oily, or, um, gay. But poor Travis, who is actually entering medical school in the fall, was there because his mother is a romance writer and she coerced him into it. He's really a nice kid and I voted for him despite my saying to myself I would never vote for anyone...but he didn't win...one of the oiled guys did instead, I think...I really have no idea.

Anyway, finally after three days of hard work and social torture, it was time for the bookfair on Saturday. I fucking ruled there! I sold every single book I had; all of the readers I met at Club RT on Thursday and Friday did in fact visit me; I went out of my way to talk with Bobbi Smith and Christina Skye's fans and yep, they all bought my book, too -- by the way, I adore both Bobbi and Christina and Christina actually hugged me after the event was over. I picked their brains, especially Bobbi, because I'd heard the unfortunate rumor...which isn't a rumor at all...that places like Borders and Barnes and Nobel would soon be doing print on demand. Which meant that they would carry one print book by an author to stock on their shelves and if you wanted to buy it, they're going to have special machines on location which would print out your copy. Oh, the humanity, I thought to myself. All the jobs lost. And what about hardcover books? Would they be going the way of the dinosaur?

This just can't happen. Ebooks are horrid enough, and I have one out there but thankfully it's going to print. I tried to make myself feel better by equating publishing to music. I mean, who'd have ever thought albums would be obsolete let alone CDs? Tower Records went out of business! So why should writing be any different.

I'm sorry. I love books. I love their feel, their smell, everything about them. No fucking way am I going to sit there with a Sony reader on a four hour plane ride with an ebook. Okay, no fucking way am I ever going to sit with a Sony reader anywhere. I want print books, damn it! We must rebel against this crap, fellow writers!

Whoops. There I go again. But damn it, this country needs a revolution in more ways than one!

So here I am at the book fair, and I actually love this photo (which Bobbi Smith was kind enough to take)...it's the only one here which I really feel looks like me. Damn digital cameras. Don't get me started on that, either.



So after a triumphant day of book selling and having enjoyable author/reader chats, we had our final party of the convention, Dorchester Publishing's Rock and Roll Immortals. Yay! Finally something I could dress like Robin for...and here I am with Eden in, yes, it's true, my Gaiman shirt again. Hey, I went five days without wearing it...do I get a trophy?



Only bummer about that party was the music. Err...they did say rock and roll, but that translated into "Shout", "Louie, Louie", and "Dancin' in the Street".

Eden and I looked at each other, pissed.

"I'm going to go speak to the disc jockey," she said. I laughed. I was already planning my escape back to my room, especially once I noticed they were serving nothing to eat but popcorn and cheese. But then again, I love popcorn and cheese and they didn't advertise this as a dinner, it was a late night wrap party and what goes better with alcohol?

Eden came back and said to me, "The dj told me he's under strict instructions to play this stuff. I asked him, like, don't you have any Doors or Led Zep?"

"Ha ha, as if," I replied.

But sure enough, maybe because Eden is so fucking gorgeous, the very next song was The Doors.

Except of course I am a snob who doesn't like the Doors, either, but compared to Louie, Louie and Shout it was like listening to Frank Zappa so I stayed for another glass of wine before quietly slipping out the door.

I fell into a coma like sleep, woke up Sunday morning, took advantage of the hotel's all you can eat Sunday brunch where I behaved and had a custom eggwhite omelet filled with mushrooms, fresh fruit, and yoghurt.

The convention was over and I went home. I was never so happy to see Philadelphia in my life.

And yet...despite my differences...i.e., being cool hippie chick in a decidedly unhip environment, I ended up having a blast. Every single person was ultra-nice; I really bonded with a couple of people (Hi, Stella! Hi, Audra...Eden, Kat, Bobbi, Christina, Ken Siman hopefully, etc. etc.)...and yeah, yeah...assuming I have a new book out next year, I will be back again for RT Convention 2008, which is being held in Pittsburgh this time! Yay, Pittsburgh!

Cos' this time I'm bringing Gary with me...we'll drive instead of fly...and he really needs to see this for himself.

Or it's more like I need him to help me get dressed, feed me, and take photos because I am an apparent failure to do any of that without him.

Okay, it's really because Gary would have yelled Impeach and Arrest Bush and Cheney at that luncheon and not wimped out like I did which is why I love him so much.

Later,
xo

Blog Silence Day

Today is Blog Silence Day.

Therefore, I will be back tomorrow with a full glowing report on the RT Convention.

Be warned I am taking a new approach here...WWNGD, or What Would Neil Gaiman Do. Meaning, he never trashes anyone or anything in his journal unless he is really provoked by someone/something outrageously wrong. While it would be fun to tell you about some of the horrors I endured this past week at RT, I also met some very cool writers and readers and will concentrate on that instead.

Later,
xo

Bloglock Holiday

Me practically inhaling a glass of wine at the Lit Lounge in New York City after spending the day shopping on the Upper West Side with Julie

So as I talked about here a few days ago, I'm leaving tomorrow morning for five days at the RT Convention where I will be cavorting as a faery one night and on another evening as the-more-likely-of-the-two-scenarios -- a vampire.

Kill me now. Please. I'm begging you.

Oh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding.

Sadly, I'm not taking a laptop with me because even though for once I was organized enough to ship a lot of books and other assorted things to the hotel by UPS, I ended up forgetting a lot of it so I've already got a huge stuffed carry-on bag and something I hope passes for a handbag or I'm screwed and will have to check one of them in.

Anyway, what this means is, unless the hotel has a place where I can go on line for several minutes uninterrupted, I may not be back here until Monday.

Yes, I know. You are all heartbroken.

But I will try. I'll have my camera with me and it would be a blast to blog live from this thing...you know, posting photos of half naked male cover models vying for the title of Mr. Romance...middle aged women in vampire outfits...

Oh god. Please kill me. I'm not kidding this time.

Yeah, I am.

I do have some cool writing news before I leave. I was graciously invited by Mark Bastable and Karen Dionne to be on a panel called "Writing the Edge” at the BackSpace Writers Conference which is held at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City. Authors Marlys Pearson, Jackie Kessler, and yours truly will address gay Regency romance, paranormal steamy romance, and my specialty, humorous erotica...and what it's like to be outside of the mainstream. I believe tickets are still available for this conference and you can order them via the above link.

Sounds like a lot of fun, and we kick off with drinks on Wednesday, May 30 through Friday June 1, 2007.

Wait. We won't be drinking straight through those three days, we'll be working.

We'll be drinking through the night.

Oh, I'm kidding again. These are just my "Oh my god I have to get on a flight tomorrow morning headed for Houston, Texas where I must dress as a faery and vampire" nerves.

Anyhoo...

In the event I do not find my way back online until Monday, in the words of the great Neil Gaiman, please don't break the Internet while I'm gone.

Later,
xo

And in case you were wondering where the Adrian Belew Trio will be playing on June 24, 2007...

Saturday

8:30-11:00: WEEN
6:30-8:00: SOR All-Stars w/Skunk Baxter
4:30-6:00: The Benevento/Russo Duo
3:00-4:00: Stinking Lizaveta
1:30-2:30: The Mike Keneally Trio
12:00-1:00: Local Branch Upgrade (?)
11:00-11:45: PGSORM Shred Contest Rd 1

Sunday

8:30-10:00: Bad Brains
6:30-8:00: SOR All-Stars w/Vernon Reid
5:00-6:00: The Bouncing Souls
3:30-4:30: The Adrian Belew Trio
2:00-3:00: Dandelion
1:00-1:45: Rudy and Blitz
12:00-12:45: McRad
11:00-11:45: PGSROM Shred Contest Finals

So yeah, there's supposed to be a big press release with this but someone from the Ween forum board just gave me a heads up that the news is officially "reportable" because the announcement and poster was made in their forum by Ween's manager...so...here's the deal.

Originally, the Saturday line-up was the Sunday line-up and The Adrian Belew Power Trio was playing with Benevento/Russo, Mike Keneally, and Ween as the headliner. Which worked well for Eric Slick, drummer, as he is also drummer for the Mike Keneally Trio, which features Bryan Beller on bass. But then the Bad Brains were added as a headliner and they could only do Sunday, so the line-ups were switched.

Problem was, the Adrian Belew Trio had already worked a short east coast mini-tour around the SOR Fest, and are playing at the Sellersville Theater on Saturday night. So the trio decided to stick with the Sunday schedule and yep, play on the same bill as McRad (and to make this a little more incestual, Julie occasionally sits in on bass with them and whether she will at the festival is still up in the air but she'd do it in a heartbeat if asked) and Bad Brains.

But let me tell you what this means for the Slick family. Eric still wants to play with Mike Keneally and Bryan Beller on Saturday.

So. Here's what we must now do to make all of this work. The Belew trio's first night of shows on this tour is Friday, June 22 at Rams Head Live in Anapolis, Maryland. We'll be at that show and then take Eric home with us and head out to Asbury Park early Saturday morning so that he can play with Keneally. Then, when he's done, we will then drive 100 miles to the Sellersville Theater where he will do a show with Adrian that night. As if that's not enough, he will return to Asbury Park Sunday morning, because he's doing a side stage gig there with Dave Dreiwitz of Ween in the band Crescent Moon, followed by his gig with Adrian. While Eric is playing with Crescent Moon, Julie may very well be on another stage playing with McRad...but again...McRad does have a regular bassist so that part of the deal may be moot.

Still with me? After Eric and possibly Julie get done their side stage gigs, they play 2 hours with Adrian, then head to BB Kings in New York City for a show there with the Belew Trio on Monday night.

I figure we're going to log about 500 miles on our car that weekend, but who cares?

MUSIC IS THE BEST!!!!!!

(Regarding the above posted line-ups: The bands are obviously listed in reverse time order. I'm still giggling over someone at the Ween forum board thinking Ween is playing at 8:30 A.M. Errr...no.)

Alas, we will not be accompanying the Belew Trio to Japan. We have a beach house and will go there for two weeks and most likely stare catatonically at the walls for a couple of days before we can decompress.

P.S. I do believe that those of you lucky enough to attend will be treated to an Adrian Belew/Vernon Reid jam...and how freaking funny, someone on Adrian's blog just asked him in the comments section if they are friends...I mean, they asked him a couple of days ago before anyone knew about this show, which is way freaky.

Later,
xo

It's official -- The Adrian Belew Power Trio in Japan!

The always beautiful Julie Slick with the Adrian Belew Power Trio

Yep, the Adrian Belew Power Trio will be playing five nights at the Blue Note in Tokyo, Japan, from July 17-21.

And err...did I say anything about Quebec the week before? Stay tuned...still trying to get confirmation but it is looking good.

Later,
xo

Eric Slick and the Paul Green School of Rock All-Stars Immortalized at Hard Rock Park

Brilliant violinist Katie Jacoby, Slide guitarist extraordinaire Sarah Zimmermann, Best Female Shredder Guitarist Ever Courtney Cox, Amazing bassist Andy Zimmerman, and the insanely talented drummer Eric Slick -- all of whom will someday appear on a Hard Rock Park Mountain of their own and I am really stoked by the park's choices of John Lennon, Bob Marley, and Jimi Hendrix. (Okay, so I'm not an Elvis fan...but yeah, yeah, he deserves to be there)


The park actually has an entire section devoted to the British Invasion and there's my lucky son and gang crossing Abbey Road.



And outside the Magical Mystery Tour Bus (this is the bus which picked them up in Philadelphia, complete with beds and large screen TV).



Here they are about to immortalize Rock School.



Eric, I love this picture of you:




Oh my god, how cool is that...Eric is like one of the first drummers ever to get his own "Stick of Fame" at Hard Rock Park.

And finally, for my good pal Paul Green, the man who made all of the miracles happen:



Later,
xo

More Insane Synchronicity...

So that would be Eric and Julie at Zappanale last summer, and if you look in the background, there's Adrian talking with Gary. The reason I am posting that photo today is because when they played at both the Zappa festival and the Herzberg Festival in Germany the following week, also on the bill was the incredible Soft Machine featuring legendary guitarist John Etheridge.

Here's a photo of John at Zappanale with his sax player:



Anyway, yesterday morning, as we were having our coffee and reading the newspaper, Gary said to me, "Oh look, John Etheridge!" and he pointed to John's pic and an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer which talks about John, who will be performing tonight at the Kimmel Center.

Naturally, Gary befriended John at Zappanale (Gary befriended everyone on the Belew tour from the California Guitar Trio to Paul McCartney's rhythm guitarist, who, by the way, has one of the coolest websites ever. I am so, so jealous...heh...not of Rusty's website, but of my husband's effortless ability to make cool friends)..anyway, he finished reading the article and remarked to me "Ha ha, if John were to bump into Eric today, he'd know him right away and say Hi and hang out with him."

I was busy drinking my coffee trying to wake up and also idly wondering who sent me email at 7:00 a.m. since I heard the "You've Got Mail" thing go off on the computer so I really wasn't paying attention, I just said Yeah, Yeah, Oh really? and went to check my mail which turned out to be an inquiry as to whether I'd like a visit from the Big Dick Fairy. (Only if it's someone bringing me the head of Cheney on a silver plate but that's another story)

Anyway, I went about hitting the "spam" button, Gary went upstairs to get dressed for work, and we went about our respective days.

I got home around 3:00 p.m. and Eric was packing, getting ready to leave for Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (see post below). The Hard Rock Park people ended up sending a luxury tour bus, complete with beds, to pick up Eric and the rest of the band at 9:00 p.m. last night, delivering them to VIP suites at the not-even-opened yet five star Hard Rock Hotel...but in the meantime, Eric said to me, "Hey, Mom, I think I'd better go to 8th Street Music, (which is about a twenty minute walk from our house in downtown Philly), to pick up some new drum sticks."

Oh. By the way. Eric just obtained another endorsement -- this time for for drumsticks -- from Vader but alas they won't here for a couple of days so he wanted to stock up for this performance.

So he left the house at around 4:00 p.m., which was only about an hour or two before 8th Street Music closed for the evening. 8th Street is one of the few remaining mom and pop style privately owned music stores still around -- as you know, the world is now dominated by the Sam Ash Music and Guitar Centers of the world -- still very cool places, but you know me, I really do have that anti-corporate mentality.

Gary came home from work and we were doing our usual non-cocktail cocktail hour, meaning, at 6:00 p.m. we crash upstairs and watch the Simpsons, in between rehashing the respective horrors of our day. Just kidding -- but Gary will talk about work, I'll talk about writing, we'll both talk about the kids and the dog...and mainly, what do we feel like eating for dinner. All of a sudden, my cell phone rang.

"Hello, Mom?"

"Hi, Eric. What's up?"

"You'll never guess what just happened."

"What?" Naturally I was immediately alarmed because, well, it wouldn't be me otherwise.

"I'm at 8th Street music right now (where, Eric will be mortified to read this but it's true, he's a bit of a local celebrity because most of the guys who work there are drummers and love Danny Carey, who played with Adrian Belew on Side One and Side Three along with bassist Les Claypool before Ade hired Julie and Eric as his new bassist and drummer) and we're talking about Adrian and my show tomorrow night and you are not going to believe this..."

By the way, here's a pic of Julie I just found on the Zappanale web site from the same set of shows and she's so freaking gorgeous I have no choice but to interrupt what I was telling you and post it now:



Okay, back to the story.

"So you're talking to the guys at 8th Street about Belew and the upcoming tour and the Myrtle Beach Show and then what?"

"This man, who was buying a pedal, pointed to me, like 'Hey, it's you! I know you!'...and I looked at him, he was so familiar...but I couldn't place him for a minute."

"And?"

"And then he realized I was trying to figure out where I knew him from, and he said, "I'm John Etheridge. We played together in Germany. You're in Adrian's band!"

So Eric was completely freaked out, all of the guys working at 8th Street Music were freaked out, and Eric ended up talking with John for an hour. John asked Eric for both his phone number and email address (ha ha, I wonder why, though Eric is so modest he can't admit to himself that maybe John wants to do a future project with him because he's such a great fucking drummer but in a way, I'm extremely glad Eric is so grounded and humble...a lot of twenty year olds would let all of this go straight to their heads and not handle it nearly as well).

So Eric is telling me all of this on the phone and Gary is right next to me in bed and hears the entire conversation and he's practically speechless.

"What did I say to you this morning, Rob?"

Err...I don't know. What did he say again?

"I said if John were to bump into Eric today, he'd know him right away and they'd end up hanging out."

"That's right! You did!"

I handed him the phone and he told Eric the story, and Eric was really stunned because, as he said to me, "what were the chances we'd be in that store at the very same minute...I could have gone any time that day but I waited until the place almost closed because I spent all day learning the songs for the Myrtle Beach set list and practicing."

By the way, in case anyone is going to that show tonight, the set list is phenomenal. They're doing a free form insane version of Zappa's King Kong with Katie Jacoby doing an unbelievable electric violin solo and I am seriously hoping someone is there with a video camera and at least part of this concert ends up on You Tube...it's going to be that good.

Back to John Etheridge and Eric, it turns out that John and Soft Machine are touring Japan throughout July, and while I can't confirm this now for sure, after talking about the respective venues in Japan, it appears that Soft Machine may be joining the Adrian Belew Power Trio for part of their far eastern tour but I'm not positive so I will wait for the official word out of Camp Belew.

All I know is, I'm starting to get really excited. And wait until I'm able to post the press release coming this Monday about that major show in June I hinted about yesterday. There may be a change in plans...Adrian, Julie and Eric may be playing more than one show on June 23 at two different venues and the June 24 date may be wrong...but you are all just going to have to wait until Monday to find out what the hell I'm talking about.

Trust me. It will be worth it.

Later,
xo

When all else fails, post a photo of two chicks kissing...

Ching Pea* and me (and yeah, yeah, I eat, sleep, and shower in that Gaiman t-shirt...it's become part of my body. The little sweetheart in the photo is Jai, Ching Pea's beautiful daughter)

So I've been running around like a crazy person, getting ready for the book convention next week, writing, editing, making goodie bags to hand out (see post below)...as advertised in said prior post, I really have lost my mind.

To add to my hysteria, I have had the head cold from hell all week (this has not been a good year for me healthwise...bleh) and we are currently in the middle of a monsoon/ice storm on April 16 in Philadelphia, so for those of you who doubt the effects of global warming...get real. Good lord, I just looked out the window. There's two inches of snow on the ground right now!

I'm just glad we didn't fill our flower boxes yet. Sheesh.

Anyway, I do have some cool music/writing news so I thought I'd take a break and blog today.

My insanely talented, world traveler son Eric Slick will be in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, on Wednesday, April 18, 2007 playing at Hard Rock Park, opening for The Marshall Tucker Band, who are famous for that song "Cant you see, can't you see...what that woman...been doin' to me", which I'm sure would be my husband's theme song if he didn't dislike most southern rock har har, and Sister Hazel who, I must admit, I've never heard of before in spite of being a self-proclaimed musicologist because, as we all know, I am a Guitar God woman.

Joining Eric for this show will be the fabulous Sarah Zimmermann on slide guitar and Courtney Cox, on truly awesome shredder style lead guitar and no, no, please do not confuse our Courtney with that anorexic chick from Friends who danced with gah...the Boss (double gah and gag, too) when MTV still showed rock videos. Here's a news blurb about both the park and the show on the 18th.

Speaking of Eric, and daughter Julie, yay! Another two months and the Adrian Belew Power Trio takes to the road again on the heels of their soon to be released new CD, Side Four Live. Dates so far are as follows:

June 22, 2007: Rams Head On Stage, Annapolis, Maryland;

June 23, 2007: Sellersville Theater, Sellersville, Pennsylvania

June 24, 2007: TBA - Major announcement coming via press release one week from today!

June 25, 2007: BB Kings, New York City

July, 2007: Tokyo, Japan

In other Belew related news, and I'll be posting this link again on Saturday, as I've mentioned before, Gary and I befriended Jeff Menke, an ultra cool old school underground FM d.j. who has a show at WNKU Public Radio from midnight until 2:00 a.m. on Saturday evenings. Anyway, I sent him an MP3 of "Madness" from the fourth time the Power Trio ever played together live at Zappanale this past summer -- and it was a pretty amazing show considering that the airline lost all of Adrian's equipment, pedals, effects, etc. and he basically went on stage with just a guitar and a then nineteen year old drumer and a twenty year old bassist (who is now twenty-one and drinking shots of tequilla at a recent Doctor Dog concert -- heh -- I have eyes everywhere, Julie) so they had to cut certain songs and do free form, extended jams on others. In listening to this incredible MP3, which Jeff is going to play on his radio show this coming Saturday night, you would think that they'd been together for years and years and performing under ideal circumstances. And if you like what you hear, you can order the CD/DVD package from the Arf Society website .

In writing news, as I've also mentioned before, I have an essay entitled "Psychotic Reaction - Blog Trips for the Wordly Writer" which appears in the new print issue of N.L. Belardes' Noveltown Review, and I have to say N.L. has one of the more interesting blogs I've come across. While looking for his post on a recent mixer he held for the debut of Noveltown (where is that post, Nick? I want to read it and I want photos!)...I found this and ooh, does it make for some dishy reading. And if you read the comments section, you will see an extremely intelligent remark from *Ching Pea, who is Nick's business and life partner and yep, the one kissing me in the above photo.

Seems to me I have more news but I can't think of it at the moment so as usual, if I can remember what the hell I was going to say or get inspired, I will be back...

Later,
xo

The "I have completely lost my mind" post...

So as I frantically try to get my act together for the RT Convention where I will be for five days, two weeks from today, networking, partying, signing, and selling books, I have a couple of new additions to my wardrobe courtesy of my publisher and my very own Cafe Press Store, also known as "Phazed and Confused". This, and some of the cool promo stuff I'll be handing out at the convention, would not have been achieved without the help of 2006 Eppie Award winner Alessia Brio.

Here's the shirt she designed for another bite:



So yeah, you can purchase these cool t-shirts, tote bags, coffee cups, posters, by clicking on the above link to my little shop on the web.

Alessia received my frantic e-mail this past weekend as I struggled to upload jpgs of my business card and book covers and turn them into bookmarks, shiny postcards, giftbags, magnets, etc. as promo to give out at the convention along with some other goodies which I'll post below just so you can see for yourselves that yes, it's true, I have lost my mind.

But first things first. So if you click on the link for the RT Convention provided above and have a look at the parties, the first night we have a vamp/Moulin Rouge decadent chocolate party sponsored by megapublisher Ellora's Cave. The following night is the Faery Ball, followed by Friday evening's Wild West Vampire affair (yeah, I know...vampires in cowboy hats...wait...isn't that our President?)...and finally, on Saturday, something with which I can at least identify a tiny bit - Dorchester Publishing's Immortal Rock and Roll party. Yep. Immortal rock and rollers. Ha ha - that's an oxymoron for you, huh.

Anyway, these are all costume events. Now, I've made it pretty clear how I feel about costumes. I don't even wear colors -- if it's not black, forget it. Basically I was planning on wearing my above two new t-shirts. So I started asking around -- I talked to other authors, friends, and they were all like, "Okay, I guess you can skip the costume, but you still need to wear something "after six" to the Ellora's Cave party and pretty much "nice slacks" or "fancy dress" to the others...

See what I'm saying here? Either way, I was screwed. The only party I had an outfit for was the final one on Saturday night -- rock and roll immortals -- where I'd just wear my usual black jeans, t-shirt, black leather jacket and shades.

Okay. I took stock of my wardrobe. I opened my closet and hoped for a miracle. Let's see. Four long sleeved black blouses. Several long sleeved black polos. About a hundred black t-shirts. Three pair of black jeans. Three pair of Lucky Jeans (trust me on this -- once you go Lucky you will never go back)...and one very sad looking black suede skirt from the eighties.

I sighed. Soo...it meant I had to go shopping -- something I loathe unless it's for cool art, books, or CDs -- and buy three new black dresses which I'd probably never wear again. I started looking around on line, threw my hands in the air, and said "This is freaking ridiculous. I could fly to London and have a nice vacation for what this is going to cost."

Because naturally I didn't have shoes to go with any of this formal wear, either.

In the meantime, I started emailing with some more authors attending, one of whom I met at RT in 2005 and really, really love based on our mutual adoration of music and the fact that she's from England and had a very special connection with the late Chas Chandler. In case you are too lazy to click on the link, Chas played bass on the Animal's House of the Rising Sun and We Gotta Get Out of this Place in addition to managing Jimi Hendrix and introducing Hendrix to Clapton, thus giving Jimi a chance to play with Cream on stage.

Anyway, it turned out that she was not only dressing up, she wrote "As I'm on the Faery Court, I've got a very elaborate, wickedly expensive ball dress. Do not imagine you can compete with this number! We have lots of immortals as well as the usual non-human critters. How about, though, acting as a character from one of the books?"

Oh man, she threw down the gauntlet. Now I wasn't merely screwed, I was ultra screwed. Subsequent emails edged me on a little more.

I realized that for me, buying a dress and actually wearing it was technically a costume, so why not really go for it after all? I started googling faery costumes, vampire costumes, and what do you know? I found all this goth stuff! Not only all black, even the faery stuff, but way cooler than any dress I could have found at, bleh, The Gap and suchlike places.

As I researched just what does a faery wear, I learned that there are several different kinds, and I would need to accessorize.

No, no, I wasn't going to carry a magic wand, but I did need a headpiece. I went from website to website. Nothing appealed to me -- everything I found would make me either look like an escapee from a mental institution or a bride who found her veil at Wal-Mart.

And then I found this:



Isn't that the coolest faery crown ever? I mean, it's gorgeous, it's handmade, and cost about the same as a hardcover book. I found it at Heirloom Ribbon and Beadwords where I've already bonded with the two beautiful owners, Taryn and Pamela, and you really need to visit their site, say hi, and maybe order some other cool stuff they've got available...they really are terrific and sweet and are bending over backwards to accommodate me.

"Do you make these in black?" Ha ha - my first question.

"If it's custom made, will it be ready and at my house before April 24?"

The answer was yes to both, but in the end, I decided to go with the one pictured because it matches a beautiful crystal necklace I own -- which I already know is a must to wear with a faery dress. Get it? Faeries - magic crystals?

Oy. I really have lost my mind. Anyway, wanna see my faery dress? Here's a pic:



Don't worry. I'm bringing a camera with me to RT and I wouldn't miss this photo opportunity for the world. Fear not -- I will get someone to take pictures so you can see for yourself how I look as both a faery...and...gasp...a vampire, because guess what, I found this number and bought it as well:



Okay, so now I'm covered for the Faery Ball and the Vampire thing (by the way, I'm wearing black cowboy boots which I already owned with the vampire dress because in my mind, how else would a Wild Wild West Vampire dress?). I still needed an after six Moulin Rouge outfit. Now that one was difficult. So I decided to hit Ebay, because really, if you can't find it there, it doesn't exist.

Much to my shock, I found a $225.00 brand new Betsey Johnson dress for $35.00 in my size! Only one problem. There were four hours left to bid, and eight bidders. I wanted that dress! It was mine! It was black, it was ultra cool, it was an incredible bargain. Luckily, Julie and Eric taught me how to be Ebay savvy. I made sure the highest bid was $35.00 and waited until there was one minute left to bid. Uh-oh, someone bid $40.00. $41.00. 35 seconds left. I figured, screw it. I'll go as high as $50.00. With ten seconds left, I threw up my bid, gulped, and waited.

I won! I won! Here's my Betsey...the only dress I think I've ever really been excited about:



I sat back in my chair and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Done, done, done. Now. All I needed was my promo stuff, and as I said, Alessia helped me big time. Here's my new business card, which, as you can see, is taken from the logo on my website which was designed by both daughter Julie and me and executed by my lovely webmistress, Glass Slipper Web Design.



These business cards were also turned into shiny, laminated, two sided bookmarks and ultra cool magnets.

Alessia also made me these high gloss postcards of both the front and back covers of all of my books -- here's Another Bite:



Anyway, now all I needed was additional goodies to put into these really cool red mesh and satin drawstring gift pouches I'd purchased. So each one will have, in keeping with the apple theme, a few of these:



That's premium chocolate, baby, with a gooey caramel center. I will have buckets and buckets of those to give out at my signing table as well.

I'll also be handing out these in my goodie bags -- I actually bought several different types but here are a few examples:





So that's my RT Convention story. Now my latest worry - for once in my life I'm totally prepared, but there's no way all of this stuff is fitting in a carry-on bag so I'm going to be forced to use real luggage (I also need five days worth of regular clothes to wear to various meetings and workshops held 9-5). So naturally I'm already hyperventilating that the airline is going to lose it all.

Oh well. If that happens, I really will lose my mind so it won't matter.

*********

If you have managed to reach it to this section and I've actually held your attention with all of the above RT ramblings, let me quickly switch to music news, which is way exciting and deserves its own separate post. But seeing as I'm not sure I'm allowed to announce it yet, here's a hint:

The Adrian Belew Power Trio, which, as you know ad nauseam features my son Eric on drums, daughter Julie on bass, and the legendary Adrian on vocals and guitar, has begun to make their summer touring plans. Can you say east coast swing with one particular incredible show featuring a few megabands and son Eric doing double duty on the drums with at least two other megastars?

Can you say Canada?

Can you say...JAPAN???????????????

Ahem. That's all I'm saying for now. Sit tight. A formal announcement will be forthcoming which will blow your minds.

But for now, I leave you with this, which a friend with a very wicked sense of humor was kind enough to send me.

As you watch this and have a giggle (or in my case...this actually made me cry...but then again, I'm a raging hormonal mess these days)...please click on their The Zimmers Band MySpace site and read about them. It's actually both uplifting and tragic at the same time.



Later,
xo