Yes, the great bard was correct. The world–life–is a stage and at times I wish the contracts would expire for some of the bit players in my own life so I can either kill off their character or hold an open call and recast them–but I digress…

Today I’m here to talk about my own personal stage appearance and what it’s doing to me. Like sand through an hourglass, the moment of my live appearance at Lady Jane’s Salon Romance Reading Series at Madame X in New York City grows nearer. And in anticipation I find myself unable to sleep. I lay awake at night tossing and turning, my mind spinning in that zone between sleeping and waking where problems seem insurmountable, and where everything appears to be a problem.

This really makes no sense to me. I was a tour guide for 7 years at one of the hottest sites during the 90s, where reporters, museum curators, British royalty, American royalty (ie: former and sitting US presidents, Rockefellers, Astors, and Martha Stewart) and US Secret Service agents were an everyday reality. To each and every one, during hurricanes and sweltering heat alike, through fainting guests and helicopters landing in front of us, I delivered my 2 hour tour flawlessly.

More recently I was thrown into the position of acting auctioneer for a local not-for-profit, where I had to sell the completely intangible the week the stock market crashed, and I did it, and then outdid the sum raised the following year.

I was both active member president and sustainer president of my local chapter of the Junior League and addressed large groups at monthly meetings. Hell, I host a romance radio show and sleep deprived and in the middle of a hotel lobby, conducted 27 interviews over a 3 day period.

Speaking has never been a problem for me. More like shutting me up is the issue. So what’s with the no sleeping? After all, it really is (as Warhol said) literally only 15 minutes of fame I must endure. All I need do is walk into Madame Xs, and then take the stage for a mere quarter of an hour and read from my own book the words I wrote and have rehearsed in advance. Then, afterwards, sit back, order a glass of wine and relax while I watch 3 of my fellow authors do the same.

I’m ready. I selected, printed out, timed and practiced aloud the scene I’m reading. I have my outfit chosen, right down to the boots. My bag is packed with my books and swag, easels, signs and banners, pens and markers, business cards and (just in case because you never know) double-stick tape.

Perhaps it’s my fear that instead of having a Sally Field moment (”They like me. They really like me.”) I’ll instead say thank you to a room full of people (or worse, empty of people) very happy to see me leave that stage. Who knows.

In any case, if you’re in the tri-state area and can make it into Manhattan on Monday, September 6th, 7 pm, it promises to be a fun night. Admission to the reading is either one gently-used romance novel or $5 (which goes to benefit a local women’s charity), drink specials are $5 (just about unheard of for NYC), and there will be giveaways, a raffle, books for sale and to win, and of course, readings by 4 local authors.

I hope to see you there, and if not, should there be a photo taken during the reading where my mouth is closed and my eyes are open, I’ll post pics of the action here afterward.

Cat

Lady Jane’s Salon Romance Series
Mon, Sept 6th 7-9 PM
Madame X
94 Houston St, NY, NY 10012
212-539-0808

There was just something about it all–the freshness, the old fashioned glass bottles–added to the lakeside setting, that made the coffee richer, the milk colder, the whole experience better.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, maybe it’s time we all took a step back to simpler times. And even if you can’t get away to a lake, I bet with a little research you can find milk in glass bottles locally.  Give it a try! You won’t be regret the experience.

The clams are barely an hour old when we’d bring them back to the house and throw them in the closed shells on a hot BBQ grill rack. They cook only until they open up, then you take them in hand, shoot just a dash of hot sauce and eat them, all hot and tasty good, right out of the shells. No utensils, no plates. Add an icy cold beer to cool the fire of the hot sauce and you’ve got all you need.

Of course, for the catching this year, since clamming began at low tide which was 8 in the morning, we indulged in Mimosas made right on the boat out of Prosecco and orange juice.

This year we did something a little different. Since we had a professional chef with us, he insisted we not use the bounty up for our little grilling/drinking party. Instead, he brought the clams back to our rental’s kitchen and turned them into incredible home made chowder on the first night, so light and tasty people went back for third helpings. Then on the next night, the rest were made into Linguini and Clam Sauce, with tons of garlic, good olive oil and fresh parsley.

Another summer’s Rhode Island vacation has come and gone, but the memories will last forever and next year we’ll be back. Clams, look out!

There’s this guy in a truck I stumbled upon a few years ago. He starts up the smoker in the morning, fills it full of ribs, drives to a parking lot and sits there. When the ribs are properly smoked, he’s open for business. When they’re gone, he’s done for the day. Incredible food and I was happy to find him parked along the road. Extra nice in this day of chain restaurants churning out mass amounts of cookie-cutter food.

Today I was equally as lucky. I stumbled upon a new BBQ place literally in a hole in the wall. The Round Up Texas Texas BBQ is on Rt. 9 in Cold Spring (Putnam County, NY) and is stuck in a parking lot behind Old Post Hardware. If there wasn’t a sign along the road (and smoke billowing out of the smoker) we would have never seen it.

The atmosphere is wooden picnic tables with rolls of paper towels on them, longhorns and indian blankets on the walls, and one huge flatscreen TV tuned to golf, but you are not there for the atmosphere, believe me. You are there for the brisket smoked 18 hours and the fall-off-the-bone ribs. An hour later I can still taste the smokey flavor in the back of my throat. It’s rare to have food that sticks with you–in a good way. The chicken was good (the skin was the best part). The spicy sausage was also good. But the stars were the brisket and ribs in my opinion, along with some wonderful and surprisingly spicy mac and cheese.

Places like that are few and far between in a world populated with Outback Steakhouses and Applebees. I’m making it my personal mission to make sure the little guys stick around.

The setting is Sam’s Club (or Costco, or BJs or whatever your local box store is). A women in rubber gloves stands behind a cart handing out free samples to the many shoppers strolling through the aisles.

“Would you like to taste a free sample of our Spicy Mongolian Beef?” she asks a passerby.

After the shopper eats the sample, the employee hands her a pencil and form. “Would you please rate this sample on a scale of 1 to 5 where 1 is you didn’t like it at all and 5 is you would recommend it to all your friends?”

The shopper responds with a rating of 1 and hands the form back.

“Can you tell me why you rated the free sample of Spicy Mongolian Beef a 1?” the employee asks.

“Well, first of all it was much too small. I mean, why bother eating it at all? It’s not worth the time and effort. Then, it was spicy. I hate spicy food. And finally, it was beef. I never eat beef. I only eat chicken and pork.”

Ridiculous, you say? The shopper was clearly told it was a free sample (in other words “small”) of spicy beef, so why would she judge it so harshly based on her own personal preferences?

Surprisingly this exact scenario happens daily to myself and all of my author friends. No, we don’t moonlight at Sam’s Club as the Sample Lady, but we do give away our stories for free sometimes so readers can get a taste of what our writing is like. The hope is that through the free sampling they will find they enjoy our style or our characters and seek out more of our work to purchase.

It works. I’ve gotten lots of fan mail from people who downloaded one of my free reads, loved it, and wanted to know where to find more of my work, or simply wanted to thank me for writing it. On the other hand, check out the reader reviews of any free read on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com or allromanceebooks.com and you will see dozens of reader reviews that echo the above Sam’s Club shopper’s comments almost verbatim.

“It was much too small. I mean, why bother [reading] it at all? It’s not worth the time and effort.” I’ve seen this comment for short stories where the word count is clearly marked and it is obviously a short story. And remember, it was FREE.

“It was spicy! I hate spicy food.” Substitute  the words “There was sex in it! I never read erotic romance” and you’ve pretty much got what I’ve read in many reviews by readers of sweet romance who downloaded an erotic romance simply because it was free.

“It was beef. I never eat beef. I only eat chicken and pork.” You can substitute the above “erotic” scenario for this one too, but also things like “It was contemporary and I only read historical.” Or “it had vampires and I never read paranormal.” You get the picture.

The absolute most mind boggling is when they rate it a 1 and leave a review saying, “I didn’t bother reading it because of the other bad reader reviews.” Can you imagine the fall out if the NY Times food critic rated a restaurant without ever eating there? It is absolutely unimaginable, but I read that exact reader review last night on BN.com.

Why does this happen?

It’s one of the great mysteries of the literary world. In fact at my Borders Books signing last Saturday, the other 4 authors and I spent a considerable amount of time discussing the phenomenon.

Here are my theories on the subject… I think many people will take anything that’s free no matter what it is. Because of that, our work is being consumed by customers who would never and should never have been our readers normally.

I also think that when it takes some time and effort (like in the old days of snail mail) only those who feel extremely strongly about something, good or bad, will leave a review, but all those in the middle don’t bother. That said, nowadays eRetail sites are making it easy to leave a rating with just one click which results in the high number of reviews that span 1-5 with no rhyme or reason.

Let me daydream for a moment about the perfect world and rewrite the Sam’s Club scene. In my scene, the shopper writes, “I did not enjoy this free sample of Spicy Mongolian Beef. Though perhaps other might enjoy it, it was not to my taste because I don’t like spicy food and I don’t eat beef.”

Or perhaps, she shouldn’t take it and eat it in the first place? Nah, now I’m just talking crazy!

Cat

About a week ago the unthinkable happened. Something that changed the lives of those left behind forever. Two days ago, it happened again. Today, I asked my deployed friend what I could do for him and the platoon. He jokingly said he could use a hug, which of course, half a world away I couldn’t provide. Then he said, “Vienna Sausages. That’s what the guy sitting next to me wants.” I said okay. Anything else? “I’d love a jar of sliced jalepenos. Oh, and maybe some of that Chef Boyardee Ravioli. And chips.”

I guess it’s the simple things in life, the familiar, that we cling to at the most trying times like this. At first you simply go through the motions and try to remember to keep breathing. Exhaustion takes over and your body eventually remembers how to sleep again. And then one day, food becomes more than just a necessity and you find yourself actually hungry again, and craving the things that remind you of better times.

So tomorrow I will go to the grocery store and I will buy vienna sausage, and sliced jalepenos, and canned ravioli and chips, and I will shove as many as I can into a flat rate Priority Mail box because I can’t send a hug through the mail, but perhaps I can send a little comfort, even if it’s only comfort food.

Yes, I’ve been to the farm stands that line Long Island’s Rt. 27 on the drive out to Montauk. But somehow a farm stand and a farmers market are different. I learned that last Thursday when I met my friend at the one in her town. She’s lived there close to 15 years and this is the first I’ve heard of a farmers market taking over the library parking lot in the middle of Armonk, NY supposedly every Thursday of the summer from 3-5 PM. Is it new? Somehow I doubt it. I think it just hit our radar finally now that she is a health nut and is eating all things natural, or organic, or pesticide-free, or whatever you want to call it.

I have to say this, it was an experience and I feel healthier for simply having been there. There was pretty much anything you could want, from fresh fruit and vegetables, to fresh-baked sweets, local wine, honey and even products made from fresh herbs such as lavender sachets. Every booth offered not only nature’s bounties, but also some pretty nice looking, strapping young farm hands peddling their wares–that was a pleasant surprise, I can tell you.

We walked out with the largest head of cauliflower either one of us had ever seen. It must have been the size of a basketball, but after roasting it with a drizzle of olive oil and some salt and pepper in the oven, we devoured almost every last ounce. The sunflower sprouts purchased dressed up the garden’s yield of arugula nicely. And the olive and sun-dried tomato tapenade made an excellent appetizer when served with Brie cheese and crackers. For dessert we had ginger cookies sold by Big Girl Baked Goods. Good cookies but worth buying just for the name alone.

All in all I would say a successful trip and one I will happily repeat. Donna now hits a few different farmers markets a week in our area since apparently they travel and set up in different towns each day of the week. With our reusable shopping bag, buying locally grown produce from small farmers rather than supporting the big chain stores with imported goods that travel thousands of miles in big, gas-guzzling, carbon-emitting trucks, I really felt like I was doing something good, on top of getting the freshest possible produce, grown without hormones or chemicals. They also freely and happily give out samples of the food.

So find a farmers market near you, grab a nice rattan or canvas bag and some cash and make an event of it.  The one we went to even had live music–a singer on guitar. And the hot farmers were pretty nice too.

Until next time, happy marketing.

Cat

I recently stumbled upon something very exciting. Kind of the oil version of a Jack-of-all-trades that is not only good for all of your body, inside and out, but is environmentally friendly and helps support working mothers in the aforementioned exotic land.

What is this of which I speak? Argan Oil.

About now you  are thinking, what the hell am I talking about and why is a romance writer blogging about imported oil? Well, as I’ve confessed before here on the blog, I am a big old procrastinator who will research pretty much anything online to avoid doing what I am supposed to be doing, and I am making a real effort to be healthier and more environmental by finding more natural products to use. So there!

Anyway…Argan Oil. Here is a brief history but a more comprehensive article can be found at Wikipedia.

For centuries before modern times, the indigenous people of Morocco would collect and use the Argan kernels for oil used in cooking and cosmetics. The Argania spinosa tree is a relic of the Earth’s Tertiary Period, which ended about 1.6 million years ago, and it grows in only a few other places in the world. It is tenacious, withering and fruitless during extended droughts, and it lives as long as 200 years. Recently, however, the tree was in danger of extinction thanks to overgrazing of goats and the local population harvesting it for wood.

The tree is now under the protection of UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization), an organization which dedicated 25,900-square-kilometer of land to preserve the trees and who also created world-wide distribution and new consumer demand for products made from the reputedly anti-aging argan oil.

All argan sold today through the organization is produced by a women’s cooperative that shares the profits among the local women of the Berber tribe. The cooperative has established an ecosystem reforestation project so that the supply of argan oil will not run out and the income that is currently supporting the women will not disappear. The money is providing healthcare and education to the local women, and supporting the entire community as a whole.

Cosmetically the Vitamin E-rich oil can be used for hair, skin and nails, and even for the relief of psoriasis. The argan kernels also yield oil that can be used on salads or for dipping bread. Argan oil remains one of the rarest oils in the world.

So, there you go. I have yet to find the roasted argan oil for cooking but I am hoping to do so. Meanwhile, I am currently using Virgin 100% Pure Argan Oil (from Slice of Nature) instead of my usual face cream for both day and night use. I am using One ‘n Only’s Argan Oil (made from Moroccan argan oil mixed with Dimethicone) on my hair exclusively. This one product has replaced the three hair products I used to use (leave-in conditioner, straightening serum, and shine spray) and my hair has never looked or felt better.

A few words of caution.

1) Use these products sparingly. A little goes a very long way and too much will leave you a greasy mess. It is oil, after all. One squirt covers both my face and neck. A quarter-sized amount worked into my wet, shampooed hair is plenty for me. (I have a LOT of very thick hair. Most people should start with a dime-sized amount.)

2) Beware of imitations. I had originally searched online for “Moroccan Oil TM” a hair product a salon used on me that sells for about $40 a bottle. I learned through research that unless you purchase this product from an authorized salon, you are likely getting a fake made from other kinds of oils and product performance is not guaranteed. Since there was no authorized salon within 50 miles of my house, I found One ‘n Only’s $9 Argan Oil hair product online and have been very happy. I figured if I was going to experiment with new products, a $9 experiment made more sense than a $40 one.

I truly believe that our ancestors knew better than we do about quite a few things. Yeah, we have computers and can land a man on the Moon, but my nails are stronger than ever, my skin looks fabulous and my hair has never looked better–all thanks to the ancient species of Argania spinosa and the women of the Berber tribe. Go figure.

I’ve gone through life very happily with my eyes closed, simply selecting something off the grocery store shelf that promised tasty goodness on my tongue without much thought past the pretty picture on the package. I am of the Red Dye #2 generation, where we children saw the complete disappearance of red M&Ms for years because someone, somewhere had decided they would give us cancer. I didn’t much care–the green ones were my favorite anyway.

Yet there I was this morning, whipping up a bowl of 1% milk with the powdered contents of a package of sugar free, instant, artificially-flavored pistachio pudding and as the powder hit the milk, and my whisk hit the powder, it all turned into what looked like an unappetizing bowl full of leprechaun semen. I immediately looked to the packaging and, ridiculously so I know, was shocked to see right on the front the words “artificially flavored”. No kidding! How about “artificially colored”?

I’ve made this name brand dessert many times over the years and I’ve never thought twice about it, but as I’ve said, I’ve been ruined by my friend who is on a new health kick and has forced us all to re-examine our eating habits. Some changes I’ve found easy. Things like using my stainless steel water bottle instead of plastic bottles, or microwaving leftovers only in glass rather than in used, plastic, chinese take-out containers. Other changes I am finding incredibly difficult. I haven’t enjoyed a cup of coffee since she convinced me to give up my artificial sweetener and powdered creamer. I’ve tried half and half, heated and frothed milk, soy milk, sugar, agave, and all combinations in between and I’m still not happy. The worst part is, when I gave up and tried to go back to my old ways, that now tastes funny to me too. Maybe I need to switch to tea…

Anyway, I have no answers for you, only whining. Sorry, my only excuse is that it is early in the morning, my coffee tastes like crap and I have leprechaun sperm in my fridge. Maybe it’s time to get back to the past. The days when my father would harvest his homegrown vegetables (fertilized only with manure and compost) and my mother would preserve them in Ball jars for the winter. When we had our own chickens who roamed the yard eating bugs and laying fresh eggs. I’m not talking Colonial times (I’m only 43 years old after all). This was a decade or two ago. How have things changed so quickly? Maybe it’s time we considered changing back.

Cat

I don’t have her Midas touch, but I definitely have my own list of favorite things–items I’ve discovered by accident or through research that I have come to love–so I thought I’d share some with you every once in a while here. I’ll kick it off with my new favorite thing. We’re just entering the summer season here in the Northern Hemisphere so this one may be especially timely.

Yes, it’s pink but don’t worry it also comes in a manly navy and a very attractive forest green. What do I love about this, besides the fact I enjoy carrying around my pretty pink water bottle? Let me tell you…

1) It’s insulated. That means I can fill its wide-mouth opening with ice and water and leave it in the car or take it in the sun and it stays cold for hours. It also means it doesn’t form that annoying condensation that drips all over and leaves water marks on furniture. I read on the company website it also keeps hot liquids hot.

2) It’s environmentally the right choice for those trying to live more ‘green’. Remember the old days when water was free? Remember bringing a thermos to school or work? When exactly did we decide that the water out of our own taps wasn’t good enough for us? Yes, I do filter my water at home, or rather my fridge filters it for me, but there is no need to fill the landfills with empty plastic bottles, or pollute the air with fumes from the trailers trucking water across the country for my convenience. Convenience? Walking downstairs to refill my bottle in my own kitchen is convenient. Driving to the store, paying money and carrying home a heavy case of 36 bottles and then finding a place to store it in my cabinets until I drink it then toss or recycle the empty bottles–not so convenient and not very environmental either.

3) Health. I think I’ve mentioned before my friend whose family has had a few too many cancer diagnosis in the past couple of years. She has become quite the researcher. She’s not only convinced me that bottled water is basically nothing but tap water put in bottles by a few big companies, but also that chemicals leech out of the plastic bottles into that water that we drink while thinking its “pure”. Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. In any case, I have chosen to just say NO to the bottle.

It feels wonderful doing something good for the world and for myself. My pretty pink water bottle makes me happy, is neat and tidy, the water is handy and cheap, cold and refreshing, making my Eco Vessel insulated water bottle today’s favorite thing.

Find more info at www.ecovessel.com or at amazon.com.

Happy drinking!

Cat