jennsylvania

Sell Out

The bad news?

The Sixteen Candles event has already sold out.  Thanks to everyone who signed up and I'll see you in March!  For those who missed out, I'm really sorry.  None of us involved in setting up the event had any idea the seats would go so quickly.

The good news?

Here's a shot of my nemesis, The Beard.

Googly eyes - they're not just for craft projects anymore!

Granted, Fletch isn't all ZZ Top yet, but that's only because it's been a month since he stopped shaving.  Ladies, DO NOT LET YOUR HUSBANDS TRY THIS AT HOME.

Anyway, the best news?

I'm doing a book giveaway tomorrow, so hope to see you then!

 

Sixteen, No, Forty Really Self-Promote-y Candles

What are you doing on March 24th?

If you're in the Chicago area (or, as I like to say, If You Were Here), join me for what's going to be the coolest event ever!

What:  A screening of the beloved John Hughes classic film Sixteen Candles, coupled with onstage conversation, audience Q&A, and a book signing! 

Who:  Do I need to mention the signing is with me?  Because the signing is with me if that wasn't abundantly clear. 

Where:  Theater Wit, 1229 West Belmont, Chicago, IL

When:  2:00 PM, Saturday, March 24th

What Else:  Tickets are $40 and the price includes admission, a signed copy of the paperback release of If You Were Here, and a champagne toast! 

Why:  Because there's an entire generation who's never seen the glory that is Jake Ryan on the big screen!

The event is limited to 100 people, so if you're interested, buy your tickets here and now!

(This is the paperback cover.  It's the same book as the one with the welcome mat, except this edition has a Q&A and a reader's guide in which I detail exactly which incidents are true, as well as a sneak preview of Jeneration X.)

As a quick reminder, here are the deets to my Spring Break Book Tour for the IYWH paperback release:

TUESDAY, MARCH 6

MIAMI, FL

Books & Books

265 Aragon Ave

Coral Gables, FL 33134

8 PM

 

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7

VERO BEACH, FL

Vero Beach Book Center

2145 Indian River Blvd

Vero Beach, FL 32960

6 PM

 

THURSDAY, MARCH 8

JACKSONVILLE, FL

Barnes and Noble

10280 Midtown Parkway

Jacksonville, FL 32246

7 PM

 

FRIDAY, MARCH 9

PHOENIX, AZ

Barnes and Noble

21001 N. Tatum Blvd.

Phoenix, AZ 85050

7 PM

 

Finally, tour dates and cities for the memoir Jeneration X will be coming as soon as the events are nailed down!

(This is the cover of Jeneration X.  Get it?  It's a ceral box!  Also, I get in trouble if I don't show the cover often enough, so there you go.)

Thanks and I hope to see you out there somewhere this spring!

(P.S. Yes, I'll post a photos of Fletch's hateful photos tomorrow.  Or, you could just come to the Sixteen Candles event and see it live and in person.  Totally your call.)

 

I Don't Like Your Beard

I'm on book deadline. 

Again.

That's why I haven't been around here much.  Sorry about that.  I have a very short period in which to get this one done so by the time I hit my goal every day, the last thing in the world I want to do is sit at my computer any more. 

(Fortunately I bought a fancy chair a few books back.  The first three memoirs were written on this stupid wooden IKEA desk chair that didn't bend, flex, swivel, or give in any way.  Hate that chair.  Hate that chair SO MUCH.  Yet when I finally got an Aeron, Fletch wouldn't let me throw Ol' Woody away, claiming that someday it would go in the Jen Lancaster Museum, next to my Barbie head and good burying shovel.)

(I am currently unaware of any pending museum plans.)

(I think he may have been drinking when he mentioned it.)

Anyway, in my last post, a couple of things were going on - I was deeply engrossed in a stupid hidden object game and I didn't have a new literary agent.  Now I have a fine new literary agent and I'm still deeply engrossed in a stupid hidden object game only now I'm on Level 32.  (Am very impressed with my own ability to find hidden lotus flowers and yachts.)

What else?

Fletch has grown a beard so I've been quite busy actively hating it for a couple of weeks now.

Dogs are fine.  Libby ran off with a chicken breast while Fletch was cleaning out the fridge yesterday and I'm pretty sure that was the greatest day of her entire life.

Speaking of meat, I've become a pescetarian.  Kind of a long story and there's no payoff to it, save for the fact that my hair seems shinier and I sweat less. 

Also?  There are those who believe deeply detailed blog posts about the new way they've been eating are interesting. 

They are wrong. 

I've discovered Downton Abbey and I cannot shut my piehole about it.  If you're not watching it, you're missing out on one of the best shows ever produced.  Everyone says the show is costume porn, but they are mistaken.  Actually, it's antiques porn.  Please know I would kill every one of you to possess the flower show trophy.  (No offense.)

Cats are fine.

Relatively speaking.

When last I updated about the New Girls, no one was getting along and I hadn't been able to mainstream the Girls into the rest of the household.

The level of animosity between both groups has since escalated from that of the Bloods and Crips to those of the Israelis and the Palestinians.  And our house is the Gaza strip.  Not sure which side is going nuclear yet, but it's going to happen.  Bank on that. 

So I'm kind of like the UN here (except, you know, effective) and I've made sure that the cats are happily living separate lives in different sections of the house.  The only thing is sometimes the Thundercats get all SEAL TEAM SIX and rush the doors to where the New Girls live, so I've taken to hissing every time I put my hand on a doorknob.  This precaution is actually working quite nicely, except now it's kind of a bad habit and I've since frightened the FedEx guy.

I think that's it, unless you want to know more, oh so much more, about the pre-made honey-teriyaki sea bass I particularly enjoy.

(My guess is no.)

Please tune in later this week because I'll be making some fun announcements about a couple of book events you won't (I hope) want to miss as well as doing at least one book giveaway!

And I may post a photo of Fletch's new beard.

If I don't shave it off in the night first.

Oxy-MORON

There's no other way of saying it... sometimes I'm just a dumbass.

The background here is I recently made a major professional decision - I left the literary agency I've been with since 2003.  (We had a great run and I have nothing but good things to say about them, yet it was time for a change.) 

Because it's really disrespectful to seek other representation while still under contract - kind of like finding a new spouse while still married to the old one - I'm currently a free agent. 

Right now I should be contacting writer friends/editors to find out who might share my artistic vision. I should be scanning deals in Publisher's Marketplace to see which agents represent authors I admire.  I should be placing the finishing touches on my new memoir proposal so said agent has something to sell right out of the gate.  And I should be booking a trip to New York to take meetings.

"Should" is the operative word here.

What I have been doing is playing this free game I downloaded on my iPad.

"Free" is also an operative word because I'm pathologically opposed to forking over $1.99 for an app (except for Still Tasty which is essentially an online keep-my-dumb-ass-from-getting-food-poisoning-again program.)  I like to say that the ghost of Steve Jobs does not need my dollar.

(Too soon for Steve Jobs jokes?)

Anyway, instead of doing my professional due diligence, I've been lost in the world of an iPad children's game because clearly locating the hidden wine glass, baguette, and hamster is more important than finding an agent to take my career to the next level.

I know, right?  And yet that isn't even the stupid part.

The stupid part is that in my fervor to unlock the hidden room more quickly, I may or may not have kept clicking the cheater button to BUY various game aids.  And, if the iTunes receipt Fletch received in his inbox is to be believed, I... kind of spent sixty dollars. 

In a day. 

On gremlin-killing geld and elf-slaying diamonds.

Despite my arguments that this is a FREE game, Fletch is now threatening to cancel my corporate credit card and slap a parental lock on my iPad if I can't stop being a dumbass.

Which I plan to do right now...

...because the game's magical Christmas tree won't spit out a new present for another three hours and sixteen minutes.

Fortunately, I've made a career out of being a dumbass. 

So there's that.

 

 

Sucks To Be You, 2011

I keep running across blog posts and tweets and articles summarizing last year, all of which can be condensed into three words:

2011 Blew Goats

That's pretty much my assessment, too. 

Having lived through far more difficult times, I can't say that 2011 was my Worst. Year. Ever. but it definitely ranks in the top five, possibly the top three, at least in terms of stress and annoyances and situations going sideways. 

Seeing how we experienced three hundred and sixty-five days of illness (both of human and pet variety), professional catastrophes (oh, hi, one third of all bookstores closing), and overall worst case scenarios, I planned to ignore the holidays and start fresh in January. 

I decided we'd skip decorating/baking/shopping/entertaining and all the other assorted bits of holiday frippery because I just couldn't get behind putting a bow on the shit sandwich that was 2011.

I was resolved.

Fletch was not.

He insisted we give this awful year a Viking funeral, setting it all on fire and sending it out to sea. 

I'm not sure how, exactly, but the nihilist/cynic I married somehow morphed into the unholy love child of Martha Stewart and Clark W. Griswold, playing the Bing Crosby Christmas channel 24/7 while slapping lights, pine boughs, and glitter on every item in this house that didn't move.

And he even managed to decorate those items that did move.

(It's hard to look noble while wearing jingle bells, but Loki pulls it off.)

(Shame.  Now in convenient hat form.)

And then he made me invite house guests and helped throw a dinner party.

(That's Fletch in the argyle socks and red vest, the front of which matches the dogs' collars.  Oh, yes, it does.)

(Clearly discussing the fish I caught with the ladies.)

(Best stalker/house guest ever!)

And in so doing all of the above, Fletch managed to take one of the most hateful years on record and turned it into the best week ever.

Like I said, I have no idea how he did it, but I sure do appreciate it.

So what I'm saying, 2012, is that Fletch is running the show now so you'd better represent.

Or this guy's going to go all 2011 on your asses.

(Full of Christmas spirit or batshit, bugfuck, banana sandwich crazy?  2012, I wouldn't take my chances if I were you.)