Blog posts in the category: Uncategorized

Boobs, Bucks, and Cigarette Butts: What I learned from a 1970s magazine.

This morning, while trying to procrastinate, I perused the magazines I used to research the flashback scenes in The Dirty Book Club. And, wow! Same game, different rules. Some better, others not so much…


1) Swimsuit models didn’t buy boobs. Flat was where it was at and that’s much sexier if you ask me. I am wondering what that pepperoni-shaped object is on her chest, though. If only sunscreen had a stronger presence in the 70s.


2) $1 was taken seriously. The value of books was not.


3) That $1 had more “nutrition” than everything in this picture combined.


4) Photos weren’t shopped. Model’s faces moved when they smiled. Pores and facial elasticity were socially acceptable.


5) This cigarette ad …

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Cupid Is As Cupid Does.

It’s Valentine’s Day. Romance is in the air. Consider yourself warned.

Romance, like tequila, often brings out the stupid in us. We become impulsive, idealistic, and short-sighted under its intoxicating spell. So if you want to avoid the painful hangover reality often brings and enjoy the warm buzz of romance for years to come, keep the following five things in mind. 

1   Know the difference between love and infatuation. Love feels safe, peaceful, and kind. Infatuation feels like insecurity, obsession, and a panic attack at 35,000 feet.

2  Handle your own finances. Never give that power to your partner. If you are a stay-at-home parent and don’t earn an income make sure you have access to the accounts and …

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Tech Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself.


Should we ever find ourselves at the same dinner party, wine and conversation flowing, you will inevitably hear me ask,  “Is anyone worried that one of our enemies will hack into our power grid and turn off our electricity?  I am. And if it happens we will be cave people because we are helpless without our devices!”

Every time I bring this up (ah-lot!) I expect an emotionally charged consensus. After all, the fact that we are WAY too dependent on technology is impossible to dispute. And since technology is WAY too dependent on electricity and electricity goes out, we’re sitting ducks. But no one bites. Instead, guests start clearing dishes and bathroom lines form. My guess is …

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Phantom of the Oprah.

During last Sunday’s Golden Globes, Oprah told millions that, “Speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we all have.” Memes, reposts and Reese fans agreed. So did I. Until I didn’t.

Oprah’s declaration haunted me well into Tuesday. Not because it was so spot on, but because it felt off. Sure if speaking one’s truth means owning your true nature and living without shame, I’m all for it.

But isn’t that living a truth?

Speaking one’s truth means articulating what is true for you. And that’s not always appropriate. If I spoke my truth all the time the “powerful tool” I’d get would be a tire iron to the skull.

When it comes to truth-speaking, the real tool is …

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Writing Under the Influence

There are two things that some authors do–and do well–that have always eluded me.

  1. They write under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
  2. They write without an outline or plan.

In all my fifteen years of authoring I have never done either. Until right now. Right now I am doing both. That’s probably why I just used the word “authoring.”

You see, two weeks ago I had knee replacement surgery.

That’s why I haven’t blogged. I thought I’d keep it up from the hospital so I brought my laptop and a Marc Jacobs bag filled with good intentions. This coming from the girl who packs gym clothes on book tour, but never works out. The same girl who

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I’m Too Skinny For This Blog.

What I am about to share is my own experience. I’d also bet my life, and my afterlife, that it has been yours too.

Last Saturday night, while blasting the Salt-N-Pepa station on Pandora, I took one last look in the mirror before heading to a party. My hair was the right amount of tousled. My slip dress and satin smoking jacket were on point. My black Vans howled, “whimsical comfort” at the super moon. I was red lipstick ready and eager to Shoop-oop-a-doop.

Upon arrival, I was ushered onto the private deck of a beachside bar. Think bungalow’s, bartenders, a decadent spread of food, and hilarious friends. And yet, the following thoughts tsunami’ed into my brain:

So and So’s

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No Thanks, Thanksgiving.

If Thanksgiving is a judge, I am requesting permission to approach the bench. Maybe I’ll be held in contempt or maybe a new precedent will be formed. In this mock trial you, my dear reader, are all twelve jurors. You decide.

My proposal? I would like the American people to add a dash of No Thanks to Thanksgiving 2017 by saying nay to five toxic behaviors. If you do, I guarantee you will have five more things to be grateful for.

The NO THANKS Thanksgiving List.

  1. I happen to know that there is someone in your life that doesn’t make you feel good. They have you believing you’re not good enough. That if you were only (insert) they would treat
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Positively Negative.

I try to be positive. I really do. But here’s the thing about acceptance, optimism, and half-full glasses: they’re no fun. It’s the challenges, mishaps, and wipeouts that made life dramatic and hilarious. So when it comes to writing, looking on the dark side is my attitude of choice.

As many of you know, I’ve started tinkering around with a new idea. And with that comes a ton of character development. So this morning I made a Bug List. Why? Because my fictional friends need flaws and quirks and petty irritations. It’s those details that make them memorable. So don’t be surprised if you come across the any of these annoying-to-me traits in my next novel.

  1. The term “awesome sauce.”
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Writing The Ship

I finished my final manuscript for The Dirty Book Club in January 2017 ready for a break. After thirty-two novels and a grey-green complexion all I wanted to do was tend to my hair–the wanted and the unwanted–and re-enter society, tragic as it has become. At that point I could only imagine what life was like outside my head and I was so over imagining. I wanted reality. So much so that I spoke to a local shop owner about working at her boutique. Dressing living people instead of fictional characters seemed like a positive first step.

But my work on the Dirty Book Club was far from over. Proofs needed proofing. My dying social media sites needed defibrillators. Then …

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Skyper Active.

If you had pulled up beside me at a stop light last Thursday at approximately 8:40am PST, you would have assumed one of the following:

  1. I was having a seizure.
  2. I was head-banging to some serious devil worshipping metal.
  3. The seat of my Volvo doubled as an electric chair and I was being executed.

The truth is I had just returned home from book tour and was having a complete breakdown. Primal sobs, soaked face, snot bubbles, and a tortured soliloquy about burn out. At one point I remember yelling, “And on top if it all, I have to make an f-ing wax appointment because hair just keeps on growing!” Yeah, I know, Laguna Beach problems.

Typically, I love heading …

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