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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Listen up, Ladies!

Hello my friends,
I’m so sorry I missed posting on Wednesday. I was away on book tour and the week got away from me. But alas, I will make it up to you with some mixed media action. That’s right, I recorded a podcast with XOXO After Dark and we had quite the conversation.

The Darkcast ladies of XOXO After Dark got dirty talking about dirty books, of course! Abby, Kate and Lauren  discussed the ways in which erotic books are empowering and how female storytelling can change the world. Plus, we talked about how I chose the books I mention in The Dirty Book Club, and how to join the online Dirty Book Club I’m running on Facebook! Finally, …

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Ten Things You’d Never Know About The Dirty Book Club Unless I Told You.

 

  1. I got a lot of information for Chapter One from this archived copy of Ladies’ Home Journal, June 1961. It cost 35 cents on the stands. I paid $17.00
  2. The fictional book, Prim: A Modern Woman’s Guide To Manners was inspired by Emily Post’s, On Etiquette. Its fictional author, Alice Eden, is a nod to, well, me. My full name is Elyse Eden Harrison.
  3. Pg. 74—M.J.’s garlic bread debacle was literally torn from a page of my life. The restaurant was Gina’s (Laguna Beach) and I was busted after the first bite.
  4. Pg. 77— Daphne Bic was the name of my grandmother’s nemesis. She swears this woman tried to seduce my grandfather while he was serving in the Canadian
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Squad Goals: Five Ways to Find Your Tribe.

 

Are you wandering the social desert looking for your tribe? Want to branch out because you’re not being treated like the wonder woman that you are? Can you relate to these comments?

Lisi, what’s your take on friend making? Do you think it is like love where people say if you look for it, you won’t find it? What’s a good way to find friends? -Kiana

 I don’t have a lot of friends, and feel really awkward when I meet new people. I don’t feel like I fit in. Mostly like a misfit. I probably have like 2 friends but they’re not even similar to me. Hopefully Lisi can help us both! -Lauren

Making true  friends can feel
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Four Reasons Why Writing For Adults Sucked.

            When I heard an author say that it took years to complete their latest book, I assumed they were lazy. I mean, I wrote thirty-one YA novels in ten years. During that time I also got a puppy, moved across country, had two kids, went for (and failed) my California Driver’s license, went for it again (cheated) and passed, leased cars, bought a house, decorated said house, and did all the other things adult humans do to thrive and stay out of prison.

Then, in 2011, I had an idea for a novel. An adult novel inspired by my own dirty book club and I would call it, of course, The Dirty Book Club. Thanks to my track record, …

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Intention Span

 

My new novel, The Dirty Book Club, is one week away from dropping and with that comes the usual set of jitters: Will anyone buy it? Will anyone like it? What am I going to wear to the launch party? According to the R.S.V.P. list it’s going to be packed. What am I going to say to these people?

Those jitters have rattled me 31 times before and I survived. But this time is different. This time my book is for adults. And adults can be so judgey. I will feel the judgement in their polite smiles, their hurried exchanges, the absence of holiday cards. I will feel it.

Now, if you, my dear reader, ever wrote to me …

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