Bad books...

I'm an avid reader and will read pretty much anything. There aren't many times where I've put down a book and been irritated that I actually wasted time reading. If you read my rave review of The Luxe, you probably came to the accurate conclusion that my literary standards aren't all that high. I'm not a reader that's constantly analyzing the usage of adverbs or nitpicking over little inaccuracies in the setting. I read for entertainment. I read to learn. And I read to see how different writers use language to engage readers and tell their stories. It's rare that I can't find something of merit in a book, but unfortunately, I really don't have anything nice to say about the book I just finished.

It was really pretty awful. I'll admit that I couldn't put the damn thing down because I had to know if it was going to end the way I suspected (it did), but after I read the last page I was so annoyed. I hated the characters and the plot was sort of lame, it all just sort of fell flat and felt very disjointed. The book was produced by our favorite book packaging juggernaut, Alloy Entertainment. It's actually really interesting because I can't find any information on the author on-line, perhaps it's a pen name? Or maybe it was written by several writers staffed by Alloy? I'm not familiar enough with how the business model works when a book packager is involved, but I find it extremely interesting, especially since some of my fave YA series have been produced by Alloy. I finally ended up on Amazon to see what other readers thought and it had a respectable 4 stars from 21 reviewers. Interesting.

I guess the moral of the story is that every reader connects with books differently. Honestly, it makes me feel better about our search for an agent because sometimes the old standby rejection of "not for me" really does mean it's just not for them. We've had a pretty interesting mix of agents who loved our work and wanted to see more and others who just didn't connect with the writing. Let's hope there's an agent out there who thinks it's perfect. Of course since we're in the middle of holiday limbo, I suppose that's TBD.

So, you tell me, what's the worst book you've ever read? Or maybe just one you thought was completely overrated. I know Laura loves The Red Tent, and I was just kind of "meh" on the whole thing. I love that everyone reads books a little bit differently and the potential discussions that result. Ooh, just remembered the book club meeting that I attended where everyone LOVED One-Thousand White Women and I absolutely hated it. That was fun.

5 Things I've learned so far on my winter vacation...

1. I really, really don't like my job that much. Amazing how a couple weeks off work can demonstrate how tedious and truly irrelevant my work really is. Depressing.
2. It's possible not to have a huge fight with my husband on Christmas. Over the past few years we have had one huge, knock-down, drag-out fight at some point over the Christmas festivities. It's really kind of inevitable given that over the course of 72-hours we attend over 4 family functions, survive an hour of church usually spent wrangling children and getting dirty looks from fellow parishioners, and on top of all that, we're usually completely sleep deprived because one or both children have some nasty illness that keeps them up all night. Usually we end up fighting about something ridiculously stupid, the kind of fight where you can't even remember exactly why it started, but for whatever reason you're willing to say hateful things to ensure that you destroy your opponent/spouse. Last year's round memorably ended in Ken screaming "Way to go, you just ruined Christmas!" Good times. Anyways, this year we actually made it through December 23-26 completely fight-free. Trust me when I say, this is a true Christmas miracle.
3. Writing is hard. We have officially started book #2, and it's really, really scary to stare at a blank MS word document and realize that we have to somehow fill it with 60 - 70,000 words. There's that little voice taunting me in the back of my head asking, "Do you really think you can do this again?" But we've started and we ARE doing it again. So, what do you think, are we completely crazy or just tenacious? Feel free to opine away in the comments.
4. Our new book is GOOD. Well, not to sound totally cocky or anything, and I realize that I'm totally getting ahead of myself, but I have to say that this book is going to be unbelievable. We decided to go with our mystery idea and at this point we've roughly laid out our plot, sketched out our main characters and we're just beginning our uber detailed outline. I can't wait to see how it all plays out once we really start writing because the concept is pretty fun and twisty. I'm dying to post the first couple paragraphs we've written on here, but I don't want to give too much away. Maybe we'll post some excerpts once we're further in.
5. I really miss tv. There's absolutely nothing on tv right now, although I should probably be grateful because based on this winter television premier schedule, watching tv is going to be like a part-time job for me come January. I actually have no idea how I'm going to balance work, writing and my tv addiction. I seriously might not have time to sleep.

The Case of the Commentless Blog...

It's no secret that I'm a little obsessed with our blog. Between you and me, I have been spending the past 3 years looking for an excuse to blog and thankfully the book provided me with the perfect reason to start a blog of our very own. You see, I follow many blogs religiously, and I love them all. I love the random blogs where people post pictures of their kids and pets with captions. (No link for this one to protect the innocent, but you know who you are.) I love blogs about cooking. I love blogs about writing. I love blogs about reading. And I especially love catty blogs.

I realize that our readership is, ahem, limited, but those of you who do read, you should know that I love reading your comments. It's no fun to post things and have no one respond to them, so most of the time I just assume that the post was lame, which actually might be a safe assumption now that I'm thinking about it.

Anyways, I want to announce that I've enabled the anonymous commenting function, so now anyone just lurking around can comment without fear. Tell us to stop talking about ourselves! Tell us that our book sucks! Tell us that you're dying to be our agent, but are just too scared of rejection to actually ask! Tell us that you decided to call child services based on our lackadaisical approach to child rearing! Well, that last one definitely applies more to me than it does to Laura, but you get the idea. You can say whatever you want and we'll have no idea who you are. We'd love to hear from you and what you'd like to see more of on our little blog.

So..seriously, start commenting.

Skinny jeans!?

A quick update before the Christmas festivities continue, the box has been opened and it contained a sparkly shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. To be fair, this outfit would look amazing on Heidi Klum. As for moi, I look like a sparkly sausage. Very, very cute that he tried and actually quite flattering that he thinks I'd look good in such an ensemble. Thankfully, Nordstrom's fabulous return policy will allow me to exchange the items at my leisure, so I can buy the perfect pair of jeans after my post-holiday diet is complete.

Note to self: Do NOT let the pushy sales person talk you into trying on skinny jeans. It really doesn't do much for the self-esteem. Yes, they are tres chic, but when you're 5'3 and weigh over (ok, fine, full disclosure, WELL over) 100 pounds, it just isn't a good idea. Trust me.

Hope Santa was good to everyone! My kids are sick and completely delirious from lack of sleep and over-stimulation, but it's really not Christmas unless someone's on Ammoxacillin and you're perpetually threatening that Santa does indeed take toys back from little boys and girls who don't listen, right? Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

We have a busy couple of days planned with family, so posting on the old blog will be somewhat scattered. Of course, there will be an update on Present Watch 2008, as I'm sure that readers everywhere are on the edge of their seat waiting to hear what horror awaits me in that box.

Anyways, thank you for following our journey into the publishing world over the past few months. Hopefully 2009 will bring us lots of exciting news to report, and just remember that when we crack the NYT bestsellers list, you can tell all your friends "Oh them? Yeah, they're pretty funny. I've been reading their blog for years!" Hmm...well, hopefully not years, but you know, a really long time.

Need a handyman?

I know this guy who is dirt cheap. He even works holidays and entertains the kids while he's working. And he does EVERYTHING. Plumbing, drywall, locksmith repairs, mailbox installation, appliance issues, you name it, this guy will take a look at it, and, get this, he works for free!

What's that you say? You'd like his name and number? Sorry, no can do. This guy only answers to Dad and Grandpa, and unless you're blood related, chances are he's not going to be willing to help. Did I mention that he also provides his barber services free-of-charge? Fantastic!

Thanks for all of your help, Dad!

Present Watch 2008...

Ok, for those of you who ready my original post about Ken's track record with Christmas gifts (short version: he's terrible), I've got a little update for you. And just let me preface this by saying that I'm so lucky that he cares enough to try and I know it's the thought that counts, but I can tell already that this is not going to go well. I hate the idea of hurting his feelings, but I also hate the idea of wasting money on something I'll never wear.

Anyways, he pulled the "I have to run errands" excuse after work tonight and came home with a large Nordstrom box. It's relatively heavy and I think it's apparel of some sort. I have serious anxiety over what the box holds. Another corduroy pants suit? A XXL sweater? An inordinately heavy scarf? Seriously, what could it be? The worst part is that I'm a HUGE bargain shopper and I have no doubt in my mind that Ken completely skipped the massive sales. I can just picture him in the store wandering around and identifying something he thinks I would wear, discussing it briefly with a 65-year-old sales woman (who ALWAYS slips her card into the gift box, as if anyone would want to take credit for these gifts. Or maybe she knows that I'm going to return it and wants to help me pick out something new? It's mind boggling.).

I'm so tempted to peek, but I'm not really sure I want to know what's in there. It's like my own personal Pandora's box.

So what do you think? Is forewarned forearmed? Or am I better off being surprised by whatever is lurking inside that box?

I am NOT a morning person...

So you might be wondering what exactly I'm doing writing this post at 6:55 AM when everyone else in my house is still sound asleep. Truth is, I've actually been up since 6 AM and I just now finally gave up on getting back to sleep and came downstairs to fire up the computer.

I'm usually your quintessential night person. I can stay up until 2 AM writing or reading or watching trashy tv and sleep until 10 the next day. Of course 3-year-olds don't usually sleep until 10 in the morning, so I'm pretty much always a little sleep deprived. Fortunately, I'm very creative and Jack is a total couch potato, so I've developed a few different ways of dealing with this issue. Mia can usually be counted on to sleep in until 8:30 or 9, while Jack is usually up by 7:30 at the latest. Typically, I can coerce him into watching cartoons in bed with me or sitting quietly downstairs watching his shows and eating dry cereal while I sleep just a little bit longer. Don't judge. I swear that the extra hour of sleep makes me a better mom.

Anyways, the point is I'm up WAY too early today and it's all because of the book we've just started. I'm a little obsessed and I can't stop thinking about it. I honestly hate it when authors say things like "Oy, my characters are keeping me up at night!" or "I had so many ideas that I just had to get out of bed and start writing." It's just such a cliche. I mean, really, if you have voices in your head keeping you up at night then you have bigger problems to solve than getting a few extra hours of sleep.

And yet, here I am, a walking, soon-to-be sleep deprived cliche. It's embarrassing. All I have to say is that this book had better be good.

Remembering...

So, there are a few things you should know about me in my pre-teen/teen years. The fact that I was hideously awkward goes without saying, but there are certain moments that will always stand out as my most hideous and most awkward and because it is the season of giving, I'm going to share a few of them with you, if only to make you feel a little better about yourself.

1. I was in 3rd grade and had just tested into the gifted reading program, so I was feeling pretty sweet. Seriously, could I be more nerdy? Anyways, I was walking to lunch thinking about how smart and cool I was when my eternal nemesis and sometimes dance partner, Mike, turned toward me and said "Nice stache Lisa!" Well, sadly all of that advanced SRA reading which had managed to get me into gifted reading did not include anything about "staches," and it took me a good week to figure out that dear Michael was referencing my moustache. Ouch. Stupid Italian genes. I swore that I'd get back at him by totally messing up our big performance of the hop at the school choir concert, but I chickened out. Of course, I should really be thanking Mike because that seminal life-moment lead me to discover Jolene Bleach, and really, thank god for that.

2. I was in 7th grade. I had a HUGE crush on this skinny kid named Joe. I thought he was so cute, but I probably weighed more than he did and thus it was never meant to be. Anyways, we were all at some basketball game, the details are a little hazy, but I remember sitting precisely one row below him in the bleachers with my BFF (who really didn't turn out to be much of a friend, for the record. I mean who lets a friend talk to a hot boy with...well, keep reading and you'll see what I mean). In a moment of unprecedented courage, I turned back to strike up some awkward conversation and he and his ever-present sidekick, Mike, (yeah, did I mention that he was best buds with the same bastard that called out my moustache just a few years ago? Well, he was.) just started dying laughing. He was seriously unable to control himself. Just laughing and laughing and I just kept saying "what?" and looking awkwardly around. Joe was kinder than most middle school boys and politely pointed out that I had the hugest booger EVER hanging right outside of my nose. Ouch. My chances of making out with Joe were officially put on life support that day. Shocking, I know. Mustaches and boogers, who could possibly resist?

3. I had my first real boyfriend, and ahem, this is the guy I actually ended up marrying. Yeah, I know it's a little weird. Anyways, we were totally in love and of course took every opportunity to make out in privacy, which usually lead us to any and every available basement in the greater-Cleveland area. During one particularly steamy make-out session following a viewing of Teen Wolf (because if Teen Wolf doesn't get you going, what will?), we were rudely interrupted by my future husband's younger brother. Umm..did I mention that his younger brother was the same guy who first identified my stache and called me out on having the biggest booger of my young life? The one, the only, Mike. Anyways, he proceeds to plop himself down on a huge armchair in the basement, whip a 40 oz beer out of his shirt and turn on some porn. He didn't even notice us. Once we had pulled ourselves together, Ken started yelling at him and Mike started laughing and then we all ended up laughing because Mike was drunk and he had totally caught us in a compromising position and it was really sort of hilarious.

The point of all of this is that I was totally lame growing up. Obviously. And Mike was really, really cool. Much cooler than I could ever aspire to be. The life of every party, the best man in our wedding; he had a heart of gold and a nose for trouble.

December 19th will always be a sad day for me, because it's the day we lost Mike. 5 years ago today. Some things you just never get over.

I miss you, Mike.

Trainwreck Alert...

Last night I was oh-so-innocently watching the Biggest Loser Finale, (For the record, I only watch the last episode. It's like one really long and very dramatic episode of What Not to Wear, who can resist?) and simultaneously doing some mindless work in Excel. I was only half watching as the episode ended, and suddenly the air waves were taken over by blonde bimbos discussing the distracting qualities of their breasts and mothers with some sort of reverse oedipal complex (I'd call it pedophilia, but that seems a little harsh). Naturally, my spreadsheet was completely forgotten and I was totally sucked in by the absolutely mesmerizing trash that is "Momma's Boys."

I'm really not even sure where to begin. The premise of the show is that 3 boys and their overly attached mothers live with 32 single girls in an attempt to set the boys up with the girl of mommy's dreams. The reality is heinously disturbing yet hilariously watchable. 50% of the girls are every mom's wet dream, while the other half are basically porn stars. It's awesome.

Some observations:

• Meet America's new sweetheart, Megan. She is this cute little wallflower with ginourmous glasses who works at an animal shelter and doesn't spend as much time with humans as she should. She's a virgin and she spent the bulk of the first episode cleaning up after the rest of her hades bound housemates. Love her.
• Uh..not sure what this chick's name is, so let's just call her seizure girl. She has a strange passion for lingerie and she's some type of signer/model. She actually writes her own songs and composed a little ditty on the spot for the camera and as she sang she looked like she was having a seizure (hence the name...). Actually, the truth is there were lots of times she looked like she was seizing....singing, crying (yeah, she already cried in the first episode), laughing and even just in general conversation. I think she might be on some type of herbal speed.
• One mother admitted to calling her son on her cell phone over 100 times. Wow. The only mom admission that was more shocking, was the racist mom who told the cameras that she wants her son to settle down with a nice white girl. No Blacks, Jews, or Asians need apply. Yowsa.
• One contestant admitted to spending time in jail, but don't worry, she was a non-violent offender. Phew! P.S. Note to Oprah, these people are supposedly living right down the street from you. Might be time to do some security upgrades, kay?
• In one of the scariest interviews of the night, one of the non-hot contestants wondered if the momma's boys had any balls, as she herself has "cantaloupe-sized, stainless-steel balls, metaphorically speaking." Guess you have to at least give her points for not only knowing the word metaphorically, but also being able to use it accurately in a sentence. Well-played scary, feminist girl.
• And then we've got Michelle, a career spokes model with two boobjobs under her belt. She paid for the second one using her student loan money. Smart!
• And the Thank-God for the Instant Replay Button on my TiVo Remote award goes to one of the contestants who claims she's 21, but then gets all teary eyed talking about her 10-year-old son. WHAT? Is she really bad at basic math or did she actually have a child at 11? Honestly, not sure which is worse. I replayed this moment no less than 10 times just to make sure I heard her right. Shocking.

The episode ended with racist mom being accosted by one of the black contestants. It really is unbelievable that there are people who still feel this way in this day and age, I mean we're going to have a black president in a month for god's sake!

Regardless, lots of drama, lots of unintentional comedy, Momma's Boys already earned itself a season pass from yours truly. Do yourself a favor and tune in.

Good news/Bad news

Bad News...my eyebrows. They are an ungodly mess right now. I look like Peter Gallagher. Here's the deal, it never fails, on an annual basis my hair stylist always manages to convince me that I need to stop plucking my brows and rely solely on waxing. This time around, she also threw in some random fact about hair taking one month to complete a "growth cycle." She probably made it up on the spot just to keep me coming back for more, but I totally bought it. Bear in mind, I'm Italian people, and I haven't touched my eyebrows since November 24th. It ain't pretty.
Good News....I've got a hair appointment Monday. Thank god. At least I won't have to suffer through Christmas with brows that rival Santa's. AND I'm totally going back to brown hair with caramel highlights. Life as a red head has been fun, but I'm over it. No one should have hair that matches maroon Christmas stockings.

Bad News...Christmas cards. Yeah, yeah, bah-humbug. I hate Christmas cards. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy receiving them, but I HATE sending them. All that writing and addressing. And plus, my cards never look as cute as all the other cards I get in the mail. (And yes, I'm talking about you Tara. Damn you and your chic Christmas cards. DAMN YOU. ) I always end up with wicked Christmas card envy, and I don't do well with envy.
Good News...Christmas carols. Jack LOVES singing Christmas songs. He calls them Jingle Bells, as in "Mommy, I learned a new jingle bell today, you want to hear it?" You haven't lived until you've heard a three year-old perform his own medley of Jingle Bells, London Bridges, We Wish You a Merry Christmas and Santa Clause is Coming to Town. Hilarious.

Bad News...sick kids. The kids are dripping, snivelly, clingy, whiney, non-sleeping nightmares right now. AND they're preventing me from doing anything except sit around on my butt all day. It's been over a week since we've been to the gym because I can't take the little sickies anywhere without getting the "you're the worst mother in the world for bringing sick kids out in this weather and possibly infecting other kids" look. So yeah, not only do I have brows like Benicio Del Torro, but I probably weigh about the same as he does. Ouch.
Good News...vacation baby! Ken and I are going to the Bahamas with loyal blog reader, Tara, and her husband at the end of February. There is nothing like an upcoming vacation to whip me back into shape. I'm going on a MAJOR diet post New Years. Yeah, it's a total cliche, but whatever. I've got to squeeze back into my summer clothes and it's going to take drastic measures to make that happen.

Bad News...indecisiveness. We still haven't decided which book to start post New Years. We keep debating, deciding, second guessing and then debating some more. We LOVE both of our ideas, but we want to write something that's marketable. Decisions, decisions...
Good News....at least we have ideas. I guess I should be grateful that we've got a few ideas rattling around at this point. I guess I'm just anxious to start writing again. Querying is fun (and consuming) but writing is much more fulfilling, especially with a partner like Laura. And I'm going to be honest, I'm not a big writing for the sake of writing type gal. I want to see all of our hard work pay off. I want to hold a published copy of our book in our hands dammit. So, it's back to the grindstone girlies!