Playing ping pong with GalleyCat today, whose post, "Who's the Lady Writer Melanie Griffith Jilted?" tells how ghostwriter Bonnie Robinson claims that Griffith reneged on a handshake deal for her autobiography. 'Cat Ron Hogan wonders whether it's the same Robinson who took a MediaBistro.com class on working with celebrities on their autobios, and concludes, "Sounds like she could use a few more pointers on deal-closing, though."
Well, yeah, but even solid closers get thrown over by celebs who develop cold feet. I've known some ghostwriters, and oh, the stories they tell! Unfortunately, none can be repeated other than orally, and only then after a few drinks and solemn vows of confidentiality.
My father was going to do his autobiography and had worked with first one, then another, writer back in the late '70s & early '80s, when he was riding high on "Hart to Hart." He ditched them both; told me something about their wanting too much money. But now I think that was just an excuse.
Subsequently I offered him my services as an interviewer and transcriber. I got the idea when I had a temp job transcribing interviews for William Zinsser's oral history of the Book of the Month Club. (I think my best temp assignment ever. It was so cool to listen to the likes of Mordechai Richler talking about books and literature.) He turned me down, I think in the next breath.
I said, "Why? It's a good way to remember the past."
He replied, "I don't want to remember the past; it's too painful."
I never brought it up again.
A few years later, Dad asked me my mother's name--her first name. No more pain.
Monday, January 08, 2007
That Scandal is So, Like, Eighteen Days Ago...
Now that Hanukah is well over, news (if you can call it that) of "Mezuza-gate" seems to have dried up. According to Gawker, would-be OJ publisher Judith Regan "once claimed to staffers that, as a joke, she went through her old apartment building on the Upper West Side, took all the torah scrolls out of the mezzuzahs at the doors and replaced them with torn-up dollar bills."
Much ink and many bytes have been spilled over this, with people arguing about whether the above story proves that Regan is an anti-Semite. I'm not wading into that fray, though I had to snicker over the quote from a former colleague, who said she was an "equal opportunity offender" who insults everyone in good measure. It's funny when Ari the Agent abuses his hapless staff on "Entourage," but not when someone does it in real life, as I know happens all the time in Hollywoodland. (Maybe that's why Regan relocated there.)
What that anecdote does prove, however, is that Regan and whoever told on her (not to mention those who spread the story unreflectively) don't know squat about mezuzot. First of all, they are affixed steadfastly--nay, intransigently--to the doorposts. In older buildings on the Upper West Side, you'll often see what look like painted-over Tootsie Rolls bulging from the side of apartment doorways. (When I was a kid I really did think they were Tootsie Rolls.) No way one can sneakily pry those off and replace them without the neighbors noticing.
Even if the mezuzah (which has as many spelling variations as Hanukah--or zucchini), isn't mummified under a gazillion layers of paint, it is attached with sturdy nails or screws. It's a bit noisy to install one, especially if you bang your fingers with the hammer and/or drop the nails. I did both (with blue-tinged exclamations) the other day, when after a year I finally put up the mezuzah from our old house in Virginia. I'd attached it with threaded nails, and hate to think what removing it did to the doorpost. (We'd left without it & I had the buyers mail it to me.)
Last, I defy anyone to remove the scroll from its little slot at the back of a mezuzah and quickly and NEATLY replace it with torn-up dollar bills; or torn-up anything, for that matter.
Yup, that was some joke that Regan told, all right--on the people who swallowed it hook, line and matzoh ball.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Quote for the Day
"I’m not a prostitute. I just hook guys up with girls if they want them."
--"Brazilian madam" Andrea Schwartz, upon being arrested (per today's NY Times)
I hereby donate this quote to former Penthouse Pet of the Month Lisa Ann Taylor, who was arrested at her home, a mansion near the 9th hole at Sugarloaf Country Club (oh, could I make some jokes!) in Atlanta, on charges of heading a call-girl ring.
Unbearable Whiteness
Max watches the snow fall from his preferred vantage point. (Setting up this shot got me to clear my desk for the first time in many, many months. Where would I be without blogging?)
Sometimes You Put the Pedal to the Metal & All You Do Is Spin Your Wheels
All summer and fall, people asked me when I was going to give Book Promotion 101 workshops again.
"When I can pick up my briefcase with my right hand," was the usual reply.
After more than six months and two surgeries I'm finally able to do so, though I can't carry the briefcase very far if my laptop's in it.
So with some excitement and more than some relief, in November I planned two workshops--LA on Jan. 27 and NYC on March 10. I did everything I usually do to promote them: a "Feature Me" ad on Publishers Marketplace; announcements on my web site & PM page; emails to authors, publicists and literary agents.
I sat back and waited. Boom! Authors started signing up for the NY workshop 4 months early. It's already half full; I'm booking theatre tickets for that weekend.
As for LA, by Jan. 1 I'd heard from just two authors, one of whom registered. So the other day I sent out more email blasts, this time targeted to workshop alumni and my cozier agent pals.
Nada. Go figure.
I'm so desperate for a few days of SoCal sun 'n' fun that I've been composing yet another appeal, which begins, "Little* Bella needs a weekend in Los Angeles. Won't you help?" I won't send it, though; desperation is so unattractive.
After receiving several requests for a Boston workshop and assurances from local authors that they'd absolutely attend, I set up one for Oct. '05. I had wonderful guest speakers and publicists, and the pièce de résistance was its location: the Harvard Club downtown. (Was that cool or what?) I did all the usual publicity per above, plus took out ads on some sites for writers & sent personal emails to Boston agents. Not one single person responded; I cancelled.
The lesson here is that sometimes publicity works; sometimes it doesn't. And after you drive yourself crazy wondering why when it doesn't, you have to figure out when it's time to cut your losses and move on.
It ended up being a good thing that I didn't go to Boston. Instead I went to Denver with my husband--the only weekend he was available to travel--to scout out a new home. Now I wonder what will happen the weekend of the 27th if I don't go to LA. One thing's for certain: I won't be scoping out new digs, though I sure wouldn't mind a trip somewhere warm and dry. (I heard that Southwest is offering a $30 one-way fare to Phoenix. If only I knew someone--anyone!--in Arizona.)
*Never mind that I'm 6' tall!
Edit: I'm going to LA regardless, as a friend there is giving a big party on the 27th. (My motto: "Will travel for parties.")
Cue "Lara's Theme"
Enough is enough already!
Yes, it's snowing yet again. We got 3" overnight, with a few more inches to come till the storm moves off this evening. That's on top of the 8" we got last week, on top of the 24" we got the week before.
This is NOT what I signed on for when we moved to Denver.
Everyone keeps assuring me that this sort of thing "never" happens here. HA! One thing that truly never happens, though, is plowing the side streets--not even in the toney neighborhoods, as I discovered the other night when I went to a book group meeting. However, I was treated to the marvelous sight of a fox dashing through the snow just in front of my (very slowly moving) car, its tail streaming like a great plume of smoke.
I took a photo of the view out my office window--even cleaned up my desk to do it!--but Blogger won't let me post it right now. Will do so later.
Yes, it's snowing yet again. We got 3" overnight, with a few more inches to come till the storm moves off this evening. That's on top of the 8" we got last week, on top of the 24" we got the week before.
This is NOT what I signed on for when we moved to Denver.
Everyone keeps assuring me that this sort of thing "never" happens here. HA! One thing that truly never happens, though, is plowing the side streets--not even in the toney neighborhoods, as I discovered the other night when I went to a book group meeting. However, I was treated to the marvelous sight of a fox dashing through the snow just in front of my (very slowly moving) car, its tail streaming like a great plume of smoke.
I took a photo of the view out my office window--even cleaned up my desk to do it!--but Blogger won't let me post it right now. Will do so later.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Quote (and laugh!) for the Day
From "The Cosmetics Restriction Diet" in today's NY Times, about how dermatologists are having their patients use far fewer skin-care products:
“I am seduced by fancy packaging as much as the next person,” Dr. Brademas said. “But I have a theory that all these skin-care things come out of the same vat in New Jersey.”(Disclosure: I've been using Dr. Hauschka's cleansing creme and moisturizer for the past 20+ years. I like the way they make my face feel, so I just grit my teeth every time their prices leap and buy them on sale whenever possible.)
Monday, January 01, 2007
Timeless Resolutions
Happy New Year! Here are the resolutions I've been making annually, ever since I discovered the lines below by James Agate, London Sunday Times drama critic from 1923 to 1947.
- To refrain from saying witty, unkind things, unless they are really witty and irreparably damaging.
- To tolerate fools more gladly, provided this does not encourage them to take up more of my time.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Anniversary
We moved into our house exactly one year ago. Around noon that day, I took the dog for a walk and the wind, which was gusting at 60 mph, blew my left sunglass lens out, never to be found again. Little did I know that it was an omen of things to come.
That night, we discovered that the upstairs heating didn't work. It being New Year's weekend, we were stuck with the cold for days. (After the first night, I slept on the pull-out couch in the living room while hot-blooded Darling Husband toughed it out upstairs.) We subsequently learned that there was a Potemkin thermostat in the hall; instead of being connected to the basement boiler, its wire ended in a closet just 6 feet away.
Since then, we had to get the heating redone, including all new thermostats; the leaky gas hookup to the range repaired; the kitchen waste pipe replumbed (it was slanted uphill); the downstairs toilet reinstalled; 28 windows replaced; the fill at the sides of the house regraded; storm doors installed; plus various "extra" carpentry and plumbing jobs. Now our concrete front steps are crumbling and must be replaced as soon as the snow clears. I'm praying that the roof stays OK.
And yes, if you can believe it, we had the house inspected before we bought it. We'd be throwing lawsuits around, only Darling Husband and I agreed that we've had too much tsuris already with my medical woes. Still, I refer to the seller (read: speculator) and the guy who did most of the work on the house as "those wankers." It's scant comfort, but it's something.
That night, we discovered that the upstairs heating didn't work. It being New Year's weekend, we were stuck with the cold for days. (After the first night, I slept on the pull-out couch in the living room while hot-blooded Darling Husband toughed it out upstairs.) We subsequently learned that there was a Potemkin thermostat in the hall; instead of being connected to the basement boiler, its wire ended in a closet just 6 feet away.
Since then, we had to get the heating redone, including all new thermostats; the leaky gas hookup to the range repaired; the kitchen waste pipe replumbed (it was slanted uphill); the downstairs toilet reinstalled; 28 windows replaced; the fill at the sides of the house regraded; storm doors installed; plus various "extra" carpentry and plumbing jobs. Now our concrete front steps are crumbling and must be replaced as soon as the snow clears. I'm praying that the roof stays OK.
And yes, if you can believe it, we had the house inspected before we bought it. We'd be throwing lawsuits around, only Darling Husband and I agreed that we've had too much tsuris already with my medical woes. Still, I refer to the seller (read: speculator) and the guy who did most of the work on the house as "those wankers." It's scant comfort, but it's something.
More Whiteness
East High School, the Boy Wonder's alma mater (also actor Don Cheedle's)."His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
--James Joyce, "The Dead"
The end of my block. The mausoleum at left is the Tattered Cover Book Store.It's been snowing here in Denver since 10:30 yesterday morning, with no end in sight. On top of last week's two feet, we got 8 inches overnight and 2 or so inches today; 2-5 more is predicted tonight and another 3-5 inches tomorrow. During my last winter in Maine 12 years ago, we had more than 100 inches of snow. We got so sick of it that we called it "the S word." I'm close to that point now.
O Pioneers!Still, it's pretty--as long as you don't have to go anywhere. And I don't. Expecting to host a party tomorrow in celebration of surviving (barely!) our first year in Denver, I did a mega-shopping on Wednesday. We postponed the festivities till next week, so we are well provisioned, particularly in the green salad department. Also soda and chips, to the great delight of the Boy Wonder. I'd put the kibosh on cracking open one of the 2-liter bottles of Pepsi, but was overridden by Darling Husband, who was craving some himself. (I loathe cola; also beer.)
Jenny explores the base of a monument at the Esplanade.
Jenny explores the base of a monument at the Esplanade.When I took Jenny out this morning, I felt as though I was in "Dr. Zhivago," with the rumbling and wheezing of traffic substituting for "Lara's Theme." The samovar is collecting dust in the basement, but all this s*** may have me hitting the vodka soon. Zdorov'ya! (See more Russian toasts here.)
I'd gladly stay hunkered inside, only Jenny is suffering from an as-yet-undiagnosed urinary malady, which necessitates taking her out every couple of hours. She's been leaking on her bedding like a canine Betsy Wetsy; I haven't done so many loads of laundry since the Boy Wonder was in diapers.
Max hasn't set foot outdoors today. At 5:45 a.m., I was awakened to the sound of distant, frantic mewing. After searching various closets and BW's room, I opened the front door to find a desperate, snow-covered kitty. Apparently he'd slipped out during one of the dog walks last night. He was very cuddly and friendly all morning.
I'd gladly stay hunkered inside, only Jenny is suffering from an as-yet-undiagnosed urinary malady, which necessitates taking her out every couple of hours. She's been leaking on her bedding like a canine Betsy Wetsy; I haven't done so many loads of laundry since the Boy Wonder was in diapers.
Max hasn't set foot outdoors today. At 5:45 a.m., I was awakened to the sound of distant, frantic mewing. After searching various closets and BW's room, I opened the front door to find a desperate, snow-covered kitty. Apparently he'd slipped out during one of the dog walks last night. He was very cuddly and friendly all morning.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Mr. Rogers Was Right
I am special. Apparently I'm the only Bella Stander in the whole U.S. of A., which makes me 1 in about 300 million. Here's how I found out for sure:
According to the last census (which apparently didn't count me despite all the fun I had filling out the form), there were 1110 people with the surname Stander in the country;
8999 people with the first name of Bella. I think the second number will go up soon because there are lots of dogs named Bella these days (I knew of 4 in Charlottesville, VA, alone, from a harlequin Great Dane to a homely little black thing of very mixed parentage), and I've noticed that where dogs lead, kids soon follow.
Max and Hannah are popular names now, after being attached to several dogs of my acquaintance a few years ago. (Disclosure: My cat is Max; he also eats MaxCat food.) Bella, Max and Hannah were common in our (great-) grandparents' era too. My grandmother was Belle, called Bella, and there were any number of Max Standers 100 years ago. Though as I discovered to my frustration when researching family history, Max was a common Jewish nickname for a man whose middle name was Menachem or Mordechai--or most anything that began with "M." So there are some big question marks on the family tree.
Darling Husband shares his name with just one other person, though I'll bet that guy has a middle name, unlike DH. The Boy Wonder is much more common: there are 220 others with the same first and last names. They were bestowed upon him by his father, but after BW was born my father told me that his boyhood nickname was the same as BW's first name. I'll never know exactly why (I have my guesses)--another question mark for the tree.
Edit 12/26: Take the info at HowManyofMe.com with a BIG grain of salt. Per the comments, several people have discovered that they & their families don't exist. The Boy Wonder searched for the last name Rosewater, and supposedly there are zero people in the entire country who have it; whereas I found two in the Denver phone book. However, I still think I'm the one & only Bella Stander, as no one else comes up in Google & Yahoo! White Pages searches.
| HowManyOfMe.com | ||
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According to the last census (which apparently didn't count me despite all the fun I had filling out the form), there were 1110 people with the surname Stander in the country;
8999 people with the first name of Bella. I think the second number will go up soon because there are lots of dogs named Bella these days (I knew of 4 in Charlottesville, VA, alone, from a harlequin Great Dane to a homely little black thing of very mixed parentage), and I've noticed that where dogs lead, kids soon follow.
Max and Hannah are popular names now, after being attached to several dogs of my acquaintance a few years ago. (Disclosure: My cat is Max; he also eats MaxCat food.) Bella, Max and Hannah were common in our (great-) grandparents' era too. My grandmother was Belle, called Bella, and there were any number of Max Standers 100 years ago. Though as I discovered to my frustration when researching family history, Max was a common Jewish nickname for a man whose middle name was Menachem or Mordechai--or most anything that began with "M." So there are some big question marks on the family tree.
Darling Husband shares his name with just one other person, though I'll bet that guy has a middle name, unlike DH. The Boy Wonder is much more common: there are 220 others with the same first and last names. They were bestowed upon him by his father, but after BW was born my father told me that his boyhood nickname was the same as BW's first name. I'll never know exactly why (I have my guesses)--another question mark for the tree.
Edit 12/26: Take the info at HowManyofMe.com with a BIG grain of salt. Per the comments, several people have discovered that they & their families don't exist. The Boy Wonder searched for the last name Rosewater, and supposedly there are zero people in the entire country who have it; whereas I found two in the Denver phone book. However, I still think I'm the one & only Bella Stander, as no one else comes up in Google & Yahoo! White Pages searches.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Around & About
After reading news, edtorials & opinions in the papers & online, I'm awash in words. So here are some pictures--OK, with some explanatory words--to cleanse the mental palate.
Shades of me (w/ camera) & Darling Husband overlooking the mighty Mt. Vernon Creek in Morrison, CO, a few days before Thanksgiving.
Telluride, CO, four days ago.
One of my favorite road signs, on I-70 heading D-O-W-N towards Denver, taken on the way back from Telluride. (Another fave reads "Correctional Facility. Do not pick up hitchhikers.")
Side view off my back porch yesterday. The big egg is the grill.
Shades of me (w/ camera) & Darling Husband overlooking the mighty Mt. Vernon Creek in Morrison, CO, a few days before Thanksgiving.
Telluride, CO, four days ago.
One of my favorite road signs, on I-70 heading D-O-W-N towards Denver, taken on the way back from Telluride. (Another fave reads "Correctional Facility. Do not pick up hitchhikers.")
Side view off my back porch yesterday. The big egg is the grill.The Whiteness of Being
Lantern Waste...The view from my front stoop Wednesday night.I was feeling all safe and smug and toasty, hunkered down with Darling Husband, the BW, Jenny dog and Max cat, visions of a huge pot of stew dancing in my head. Then yesterday I went into the basement in search of my snow gaiters, which I'd stowed away somewhere really clever...and forgettable. (I'd already scoured the whole upstairs for them.) And what did I find but a large pool of water on the floor emanating from the kitchen waste pipe (repaired in the spring) which was steadily dripping onto a stack of cardboard boxes. Oh @#$%*!!!
I will draw a discreet curtain over the ensuing scene. The happy news is that nothing important was ruined and a large picnic cooler is now catching the drips until the plumber, who fortunately lives nearby, can dig out his truck and make his way here. And I found the gaiters in a waterproof bin, well away from the leak.
Jenny (rear) frolicking with a neighbor yesterday.Max is electing to remain indoors.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Out on Reprieve
Brian, Chutney, Kristin & me at the Something-or-otherrest area overlooking the Whatchamacallit River.
I'm in Telluride, Colo., along with literary agent Kristin Nelson, her husband and their little dog too. Kristin and I spoke at an author-agent conference, sponsored by the Telluride public library, on Friday evening and Saturday. The rest of the time we've been hanging out, dining out (sumptuously!) and gadding about.
Seems that right now is a quiet time in Telluride; all hell breaks loose on December 26th. I'm one of only 5 guests at my hotel, and we've easily gotten tables at popular restaurants during peak dinner time without reservations. A dog could have taken a nap in the middle of the main street at noon today, with little fear of being disturbed. (There was a dog asleep on the sidewalk in front of one of the bars; he was there yesterday too.)
View of lunchtime non-traffic from the Floradora Saloon.
View from my hotel room balcony.Telluride is a quaint little town with spectacular scenery and clean evergreen-scented air, but the racket of the nearby snow-making machines sounds as though Paul Bunyan is running his espresso maker. And I have never been so scared walking city streets anywhere as I have been here, at least until the newly fallen snow provided some traction today.
One would think that a pontzy ski resort town, with two (count 'em!) Sotheby real estate offices, and restaurants that fly in fresh seafood from both coasts every day, would have ice-free sidewalks and street lights. But NOOO!!! I crept around like a little old lady, terrified that I'd fall down and rebreak my arm, or something else. My heart was in my mouth Friday night as the three of us minced down the steep, icy and very dark hill to our hotels after a fantabulous dinner at the Excelsior restaurant.
Now I know why I haven't seen any old people in Telluride: They're all home with broken hips.
One would think that a pontzy ski resort town, with two (count 'em!) Sotheby real estate offices, and restaurants that fly in fresh seafood from both coasts every day, would have ice-free sidewalks and street lights. But NOOO!!! I crept around like a little old lady, terrified that I'd fall down and rebreak my arm, or something else. My heart was in my mouth Friday night as the three of us minced down the steep, icy and very dark hill to our hotels after a fantabulous dinner at the Excelsior restaurant.
Now I know why I haven't seen any old people in Telluride: They're all home with broken hips.
Street corner with sloped curb for handicapped accessibility (ha!).Sunday, December 03, 2006
Author Go Happy
From Ginny Rorby, author of the YA novel Hurt Go Happy (Tor), who took my Book Promotion 101 workshop in San Francisco last year:
Hurt Go Happy came out in August, but I was already hard at work putting into practice some of the tips I garnered from your class.
I sent out 2500 postcards to all the deaf schools, all the zoos with gift shops, all the libraries nationwide, all the bookstores specializing in children's books, and hundreds of personal friends. I created Google Alerts, so that everything that came out about chimpanzees, sign language or deafness, the title of my book or my name, I got an email. I then researched each person mentioned in the article and sent them a postcard.
The results have been terrific.
Here in town [Fort Bragg, CA], I had to do two readings, both of which were packed with friends. Nearly 400 books have sold locally. I am doing a fundraiser in FL and a reading at Books & Books in Miami. The book was a Junior Library Guild selection (4500 copies), a Scholastic Book Fair selection (they order 63,000 trade paperback copies) and was voted one of the Top 100 children's books of the Year by the NY Public Library Assoc.
It's hard to know if what I did was successful and what would have happened anyway, but I can't help but think that getting it before all those eyeballs helped.
Hurt Go Happy came out in August, but I was already hard at work putting into practice some of the tips I garnered from your class.
I sent out 2500 postcards to all the deaf schools, all the zoos with gift shops, all the libraries nationwide, all the bookstores specializing in children's books, and hundreds of personal friends. I created Google Alerts, so that everything that came out about chimpanzees, sign language or deafness, the title of my book or my name, I got an email. I then researched each person mentioned in the article and sent them a postcard.
The results have been terrific.
Here in town [Fort Bragg, CA], I had to do two readings, both of which were packed with friends. Nearly 400 books have sold locally. I am doing a fundraiser in FL and a reading at Books & Books in Miami. The book was a Junior Library Guild selection (4500 copies), a Scholastic Book Fair selection (they order 63,000 trade paperback copies) and was voted one of the Top 100 children's books of the Year by the NY Public Library Assoc.
It's hard to know if what I did was successful and what would have happened anyway, but I can't help but think that getting it before all those eyeballs helped.
Self-Promotion: What Works & What Doesn't?
On Nov. 28, in "A Lesson in Self-Promotion," GalleyCat posted a link to How I Promoted My Book by David Louis Edelman, author of the sci-fi novel Infoquake. Edelman took stock as follows:
- Promotional efforts that were well worth doing.
- Promotional efforts that may have had some positive impact, but it's hard to tell.
- Things I tried that have had seemingly no impact.
- What lessons have I learned?
Recharge in the Desert
Sure wish I could go...
FINDING THE FLOW: Writing from the Inside Out
ARIZONA WRITING RETREAT, January 17-21, led by novelist Katharine Weber and clinical psychologist Lynette Danylchuk, Ph.D., with essayist and poet Floyd Skloot, and painter Beverly Hallberg.
For writers at any level of experience, this workshop is a rare opportunity to connect with your writing dreams in a nurturing group at Pocket Sanctuary, a restored dude ranch set in the spectacular desert landscape south of Tucson. The workshop will combine guided imagery, psychodrama, role play and other techniques, plus art projects, lectures, readings and private conferences to enable you to tap your imagination and find the flow for the writing you want to do.
Price for workshop, lodging & meals: $900. For more information, phone Lisa Griffin at Pocket Sanctuary 520-398-8073 or send email to {pocketsanctuary at earthlink dot net}.
FINDING THE FLOW: Writing from the Inside Out
ARIZONA WRITING RETREAT, January 17-21, led by novelist Katharine Weber and clinical psychologist Lynette Danylchuk, Ph.D., with essayist and poet Floyd Skloot, and painter Beverly Hallberg.
For writers at any level of experience, this workshop is a rare opportunity to connect with your writing dreams in a nurturing group at Pocket Sanctuary, a restored dude ranch set in the spectacular desert landscape south of Tucson. The workshop will combine guided imagery, psychodrama, role play and other techniques, plus art projects, lectures, readings and private conferences to enable you to tap your imagination and find the flow for the writing you want to do.
Price for workshop, lodging & meals: $900. For more information, phone Lisa Griffin at Pocket Sanctuary 520-398-8073 or send email to {pocketsanctuary at earthlink dot net}.
On the Road Again
In light of my recent travails, it's going to be a while till I'm back in the saddle. In fact, I have to put in a few more hours on my shrink's couch till I'm able to even stop by the stable to say hello. And even more hours till I can watch any movie rough stuff without feeling panicky and nauseous, as happened when I saw "Casino Royale" last weekend. (There's a spectacular view of the mountains from that couch, so I don't mind sitting there.)
However, now that I can carry my laptop with my right hand again--for a minute or two, anyway--I've set up workshops for this winter. Registration is limited to 8. Discount for Early Birds; I'll feed you good too. See complete details here.
LOS ANGELES
Saturday, January 27, 2007
9:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Registration Deadline: January 13
Guest Speakers:
Guest Publicists:
Bonus: Poolside chat & refreshments after the workshop with Kathryn Jordan, Jennifer Kaufman, Karen Mack, Kerry Madden & Quong Pham.
NEW YORK
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Registration Deadline: February 24
Guest Speakers:
Guest Publicists:
Bonus: "Field trip" on March 7 to National Book Critics Circle Award Finalists Reading at the New School.
However, now that I can carry my laptop with my right hand again--for a minute or two, anyway--I've set up workshops for this winter. Registration is limited to 8. Discount for Early Birds; I'll feed you good too. See complete details here.
LOS ANGELES
Saturday, January 27, 2007
9:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Registration Deadline: January 13
Guest Speakers:
- Bill Applebaum, media trainer, Kim-from-L.A. Literary & Media Services
- Kathryn Jordan, author of Hot Water: A Novel
- Jennifer Kaufman & Karen Mack, authors of Literacy and Longing in L.A.
- Kerry Madden, author of Gentle's Holler
- Quong Pham, author of A Sense of Duty: My Father, My American Journey
- Jane Marla Robbins, reading coach, actress & author of Acting Techniques for Everyday Life
Guest Publicists:
- Megan Underwood Beatie, West Coast publicity director, Goldberg McDuffie Communications
- Kim Dower, president, Kim-from-L.A. Literary & Media Services
Bonus: Poolside chat & refreshments after the workshop with Kathryn Jordan, Jennifer Kaufman, Karen Mack, Kerry Madden & Quong Pham.
NEW YORK
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Registration Deadline: February 24
Guest Speakers:
- Jane Cleland, business speaker & author of the mystery Consigned to Death
- Ron Hogan, co-editor, GalleyCat; founder, Beatrice; author, The Stewardess Is Flying the Plane!: American Films of the 1970s
- Jen Singer, proprietor of MommaSaid.net & author of 14 Hours 'Til Bedtime: A Stay-at-Home Mom's Life in 27 Funny Little Stories
- Eileen Winnick, media trainer & president, The Winnick Group
Guest Publicists:
- Lauren Cerand
- Yvette Romero, Monteiro & Co., Inc.
Bonus: "Field trip" on March 7 to National Book Critics Circle Award Finalists Reading at the New School.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Latin Ending
Per the preceding post, Steven P. Hill, professor of Cinema Studies, Univ. of Illinois, wrote:
For future reference, you may want to adjust the little header on the next anniversary remembrance of LS's passing to the feminine accusative "-am" in Latin, that is, "In memoriam." ("Memorium" would make a gender switch to neuter...)Therefore, in accordance with Prof. Hill's feminine accusative, I offer this edit:
In Memoriam
Lionel Stander (center) in an episode of "Hart to Hart"
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