SUBLIMINAL MONDAY: Meeting Awesome Agent - The Ballad of B & D

I bet you're wondering how my meeting with Awesome Agent aka Bernadette Baker-Baughman of Baker's Mark Literary went? [You're not? Fine. Be that way. I have no feelings.] It wasn't easy, people, let me tell you: It. Was. Not. Easy.

First of all, she was supposed to fly in on the Red Eye Tuesday night, but, guess what? The East Coast got slammed with the biggest storm in like a bazillion years. [That's not an exaggeration. It was a bazillion and three years since the last storm this big hit Philly, Baltimore, & DC. Google it if you don't believe me.] So.... plane canceled.

Tears streamed down my face at warped speed for the next 24 hours until, VWALAH - Wednesday night Red Eye took flight! Yes, Maribelle, there is a God and her name is jetBlue. [I've no idea who Maribelle is, and if God existed, which I'm not completely convinced she does, her name would most definitely NOT be jetBlue. It would probably be something like Sasha or Ariella or Alexandra or Sasha Ariella Alexandra. You know, something with beauty, elegance, a little oomph.] Alas, my tears dried up like the Sahara after a wicked rainstorm, and joy began to creep back into the soft, slight creases on my face. [Okay, they're craters. Whatev.] Awesome Agent managed to fly 3,000 miles into the City Of My Birth, and now it was my mission to travel a mere 94 miles from Philly to NYC. No big woop, right? WRONG! In my humble town, we received 20 inches of snow atop the previous 15 inches that was dumped on us only four days prior. Three freaking feet of snow, people, three freaking feet of snow. So, guess what?

1) Honey plowed our driveway with our super-duper snow-blower for three hours and we still couldn't get a car out.

2) I couldn't get a cab to the train station.

3) Most of the trains were either not running, or seriously delayed.

So, AA was in NYC and I was, once again, crying at home in Philly. [Do you feel bad for me? Cuz you should definitely feel bad for me. Heck, even I feel bad for myself! This story is a real tear-jerker.] I was supposed to have dinner with AA, but I couldn't even get to my mailbox.

She wrote to me in an email, and I quote, "The force is strong with you, young Jedi. I believe that you'll make it. ANYTHING is possible."

Wow. She called me, Young Jedi. How could I so thoroughly disappoint my Master, especially when she'd traveled thousands of miles just to see me? [She had meetings galore in NYC. Dinner with me was, no doubt, a regretful afterthought.]

LIGHT BULB MOMENT! I could try to get into New York on FRIDAY! I checked the train schedules and paid the price of a plane ticket, but it was worth it, because I was on my way to meet my Master! The clouds parted, the sun shone through, the flowers bloomed, and Sasha Ariella Alexandra spoke to me. She said, "Good job, my young Jedi. The Force is most definitely with you!"

[BTW: For those of you new to my blog, if you were looking for a "meeting" here, AA doesn't mean what you think. AA stands for Awesome Agent. And, best of luck with your sobriety.]

So, after what seemed like a lifetime of tears and sadness and disappointment and sheer terror, I found myself on a bumpy, ice-lining-the-tracks train ride to NYC. [There wasn't even one scintilla of terror, I just thought I'd toss it in for effect. Did it work? Were you terrified? Good. Then, I'll give my bud Stephen King a shout-out. He's kind of green at the fear game - thinks it's "his calling" (such a Drama King!) and I believe strongly you've got to encourage the newbies.]

I arrived in Penn Station not much worse for the wear - a few hairs out of place, my make-up smeared, some drool on my chin from a much-needed nap - I mean crying for 24 hours wears you out! And then, as if in a beautiful dream, there was AWESOME AGENT! Amidst the millions of busy New Yorkers racing by, AA appeared in a black and white checked coat made of pure awesome. She walked up to me in slow motion and gave me a long, much-needed hug. I'm fairly certain Steven Spielberg hovered above in a hecidoctor [That's what my son called a helicopter when he was little. Isn't that cute? No? Oh, well, never mind then.] filming the most intense, history-making, literary moment EVAH!

We slipped inside an Irish Pub and got down to the business of getting to know each other in person. Phone calls, emails, tweets, and even Skype, don't begin to convey the magnificence of AA. She's exactly as I imagined - an angel sent from Heaven to help me along my literary path. She even has wings, I swear, it's true! [And, yes, Maribelle, the Pope is Jewish.]

We did an 8-minute vlog answering questions submitted by my dear followers. I will post that vlog later this week. All I'll say about that is that it's downright hilarious [think Chelsea Handler meets Lewis Black] and is filled with way-important literary tidbits. You will not be disappointed! [You may be bored, but you will not be disappointed!]

Until then, I hope your Valentine's Day was filled with love, and more importantly, chocolate, and that you're enjoying the Winter Games in Vancouver.

Go USA!

When I Grow Up I Want to Be...

Chelsea Handler! She's gorgeous, blonde-haired, hilarious, and Jewish. I had the pleasure of seeing her and my other favorite comic Lewis Black live and "in concert" within the last two weeks.

I saw Chelsea, my comic idol, (and, yes, we're on a first-name basis) at the Tower Theater in Philly on March 7th and last Friday the 13th I saw the always angry, always ingenious Lewis Black at my favorite venue - The Music Box - at the Borgata in Atlantic City.

Chelsea is half Jewish and half Mormon. Need I say more? Yes, of course I do. She's a Jersey girl who was raised Jewish, has her own talk show on E at 11PM EST (watch it!!) and is the author of two of the funniest books ever written: "My Horizontal Life" a memoir of her one-night stands and "Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea" another hilarious memoir. (Her personal beverage favorite? Grey Goose.)

Lewis Black is also Jewish - I can't help it if the Jews have the market on funny. When your people have been persecuted and made fun of for having big noses for thousands of years, you either become depressed and withdrawn, get a nose job, or make jokes. Some of us do all three. Anyway, Lewis Black is an angry man. He doesn't understand Democrats or Republicans or why anyone would want to drink soy "milk." (Actually, there's no such thing as soy milk, but you'd have to ask Lewis about that.)

Since I'd be willing to bet my green-flowered thong (for those of you who hadn't guessed what clothing item I was referring to in my last post) that some of you don't know who one or both of these comic geniuses are, I thought I'd introduce you. ..

Ladies and gentlemen, Chelsea Handler and Lewis Black! (cue wild cheering and the San Diego Marching Band playing "Tusk!")

You can thank me for the following video clips in the comments section. Enjoy!

Chelsea Plans Her Funeral

Lewis Black Talks about a Nuclear Holocaust

Continuous Tread Mill

Post Nibble

Ever since I got my nibble, I've been on a continuous treadmill working non-stop on my novel, paying special attention to the first three chapters. As you creative types know, once those juices get flowing, it's pretty damn hard to shut them down. So, at 11PM-ish every night I take a Lunesta in order to fall asleep and stay asleep for a few hours. (Note to Family and Cats: My laptop is not a fourth appendage.)

Shout Out
Although I hate to use the word "I" in the same sentence with "Sarah Palin"...
Like Sarah Palin, I feel a "shout out" is in order to some of the folks who've been extremely helpful these past couple of weeks. (I beg for eternal forgiveness if I've left you off this esteemed list.)

First of all, to those of you who read my blog and comment. Thanks! Your words are fabulous, you make me laugh, and you're brilliant.

To my husband, Chuck. Thanks for enthusiastically reading and re-reading my words, and for your great suggestions on ways to tighten up the story. Also, for the kisses.

Next, to Karen Carter and Amy Nathan. As Chelsea Handler would say, "What... A pleasure!" These two have assisted me with some pretty in-depth copy editing, and made suggestions I never would have thought of. (BTW: Karen is available for copy editing services at http://www.kccommunications.blogspot.com/ Check her out!)

To Carolyn P. - You say you're not a critic, but your support means so much. I hope you enjoy your inside scoop on all the "fiction" I write.

To Tom S. - If there's a funnier guy in this world, I haven't met him. Lewis Black has nothing on you - you're a comic genius. And don't think I don't take every tiny, little suggestion you make to heart.

Adam and Ethan - You guys are amazing! Giving me your support and telling me you're proud of me beats any publishing deal out there. (Well, maybe not any publishing deal, but you get the picture.)

Sharon, Laurie & Michelle - No one has my back like you three. I'm sorry for the times I was mean to you when we were little. If I had any idea how fabulous you'd turn out to be, I might not have behaved so badly. Your editing suggestions are ENORMOUSLY helpful. Plus, you're beautiful!

Mom and Dad - I love you, you're the reason I'm living and able to put two words together. I hope I make you proud.

I realize this post could easily be mistaken for a cheesy end-of-the-year high school yearbook romp or perhaps a suicide note. Sorry about that. My brain's a little fuzzy right now since I haven't been anywhere outside my study in days. (And by "study" I mean bed with notebook on lap.)

I'll post again after my nibble's in the mail!

I Got a Nibble!

My First Nibble!

OMG!!! I got my first nibble! An agent in Washington, DC liked my query and wants to see the first three chapters and a synopsis of my book. OMG!!! If it's not obvious, I am like so totally way excited! (My inner Valley Girl comes out whenever I'm excited. Just ask my husband.) My dad was sitting next to me as I read the agent's e-mail and he said, "You just said OH MY GOD!!! so many times in a row, that I thought maybe you'd finally found religion!" Of course, he knows better, but I just couldn't contain my joy. I felt like a five year old in FAO Schwartz! (Did I mention I'm excited?)

You see, I felt like quite the failure when I didn't get any nibbles at the Algonkian Writer's Conference in NYC in September when some of the other (amazing, brilliant, fantastic) writers in my group did. Of course, I'm not dil-you-sional, as Lewis Black would say. I'm clear that said agent's interest doesn't, by any stretch of the imagination, mean that I will be published. But at least it means I've got a shot! And if this one is interested, than maybe someone else might be, too, right?

So, now I'm feverishly revising my first three chapters, and I need to write a synopsis (which I've never done before.) As I mentioned in my last post, while I was in Denver I met with Karen, my copy editor, and she suggested I chop nearly half of my book out and add more stuff mainly pertaining to my fascinating musical past. (Her words, not mine.) And, I've been a very good girl, working hard on this angle. I have also been advised to take my time replying to the agent, and I will heed this advice as well. I figure it's better to take my time and feel like I've nailed those first three chapters, then to quickly reply before I feel more certain. (Did I mention I'm excited? No, I didn't think so. I'M EXCITED!)

I'm sure plenty of you out there in blogland have had numerous encounters with interested agents. I'd love to hear your stories, both good and bad!

Holiday Dilemma
Replying to a post on Amy Nathan's brilliant blog: http://amysuenathan.com/ got me thinking about the annual holiday dilemma. How do you get stuff done for the holidays, while simultaneously enjoying them? I've got part of the answer. Say you don't cook! I actually don't cook, and, let me tell you, that little deficiency pays off in spades! Of course, I did volunteer to bring some sort of chocolate thingie to my cousin's house in Jersey on Thursday - not quite sure what I was thinking (maybe a big Toblerone bar?). I've decided that chocolate thingie will take shape in the form of a chocolate cream pie. Now, I can hear some of you kitchen-savvy types snickering right now, but this is like a totally way-big major deal to me (Uh, oh, here comes Inner Valley Girl. I must be getting excited!) I scoped out the pie crust situation at my local grocery store and found out they sell them ready-made. Brilliant! Unfortunately, my mom informed me that the instant pudding mix doesn't cut it for a great tasting chocolate cream pie. "You mean I have to combine the pudding mix with milk and then stir until it boils?" I asked. "That sounds dangerously close to cooking!" OK, baking, but in my world, they're one in the same.

Wish me luck. I'll let you know how it turns out. And, most importantly, may you and your families enjoy a cozy, joyful, loving, healthy, and laughter-filled Thanksgiving.

Satan's Favorite Agent

COLORADO HERE I COME!

Well, folks, I'm heading to Denver again. Unfortunately, mom is still having a rough time. Family and friends are doing a phenomenal job caring for her, but I think it will help if I can drive her to the doctor (she's getting daily IV antibiotics), make breakfast (stop laughing - I actually know how to cook an egg), and do laundry. But, as Lewis Black would say, "have no fear my precious snowflakes!" For, I will continue this fascinating and informative blog in the land of many mountains...

POST ELECTION DRAMA
No, this is not about my neighbor, at least not the one two doors down. On Wednesday afternoon I was purchasing a few bottles of lovely, full-bodied red wines for our victory party later that night. The elderly, white guy who was next in line, asked what I was celebrating. "Our new president!" I said. He replied, "I hate to tell you this, but you just voted for Satan." I actually laughed out loud and told him that was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. He went on to explain that Obama is a baby killer and truly is the devil. And everyone who voted for him are agents of the devil. (Guilty as charged!) This guy clearly didn't know who he was verbally sparring with. I asked him if he and his peeps were so gung-ho on "saving precious, innocent lives" then why is it OK to shoot bullets into innocent animals for "sport"? He looked a bit flustered and muttered something about animals being lower species than humans. "If that's true," I asked, "then shouldn't we be smarter and more compassionate than them? And, if so, then how is it that hunters like Sarah Palin enjoy blowing their brains out?" He changed tactics and told me that the only people who have abortions are fornicators (duh!) and people having affairs. "Oh, really?" I countered, "What about all the people who neglect or physically abuse their children?" "In God's eyes, all children are in Heaven!" he answered. "Oh, yeah?" I asked, "I bet the kids who are being beaten by their parents think it feels a bit more like hell." And then for fun I added, "And, I bet you just love Sarah Palin!" "Why, yes," he said, "She's a real woman!" I guess I'm just a guy in drag, or maybe Samantha Ronson. The poor gal behind the counter looked like she wanted to crawl under an apolitical rock and die, or at least hide until this stimulating repartee was over. (Oh, and FYI: he mentioned the End of Days is near, so you may want to take that trip to Tahiti you've been putting off.)

VICTORY PARTY - A WILD SUCCESS!
Despite my encounter with the GOP (Grumpy Old Prick), our post-election night party was a blast! I don't know about you, but I am still floating on Obama-inspired air. It's both relaxing and exhilarating - like the afterglow of a great roll in the hay. What a major relief after these last, long, torturous eight years!

For the party, my friend, Joanne, made her famous vegetarian chili, and we had California rolls, hummus, salad, sandwiches, and, of course, soda, wine and beer. (My husband bought the beer and, in the spirit of the evening, chose a case from the Victory Brewery!) We also had a special guest. A full-sized cut-out of the President-Elect! (That's him above with my husband.)

I'd love to hear your election night or post-election night stories. And, if you run into the GOP, tell him Satan's favorite agent sends her love.

Signing off for now my precious snowflakes!