First off, let’s get this out of the way– several (or, more than several) people have asked me why I don’t post on this blog more frequently. I’ve thought about this, trying to formulate an accurate and well-crafted response, and here it is. Originally, I started this blog as a place to put mid-length non-fiction (like "I Called the DMV," for instance) while these stories were waiting for publication. And, while I do admit there is a certain appeal to reading a blog where someone posts everyday occurrences like what’s going on with them that moment and what they had for lunch that day (the answer to this for me, pretty much every day, is "working, and salad"), I prefer to post when I have time to write something of at least essay length, that has more bang for the buck. Also, I’ve found if I try to post something every day, I tend to give into a slight pessimism that I’m still trying to rid myself of, and I end up ranting, say, about how annoyed I am about <fill in the blank– there are many annoying things in the world>. In my experience, though, complaining about things only makes them worse, so I’m really no doing that anymore. Instead I try to be sparing, and only write when I have something good to say.
Of course, this doesn’t really serve the traditional "blog" function, so I can understand if you think it’s weird that I haven’t posted since May 4th. So, from now on, I’m splitting the difference, and am committed to posting something every Friday, more often when the time and circumstance allow (or mandate). Here’s the Cox-Culwell digest, for anyone who’s interested:
–We spent the first part of May in New York. It was lovely weather there. We are still on the fence about starting to do the bicoastal thing again, though, because MAN does that wear you out. I flew 89,000 miles last year, and by the end of the year, I was like "nope, no more."
— We still have no children, and no plans to have any (and yes, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m not getting any younger. In fact, I have a whole half an essay about the "child free" subject. It’s in my notebook, just waiting to get some attention. I sort of thought that by now I would’ve had an inkling of an urge, and perhaps the fact that I haven’t means that I am dead inside. Dunno. I like other peoples’ kids just fine, and they seem to like me. I just don’t want one to take home with me for good. I am lucky to have a husband that feels the exact same way, and many (many) friends who are more than willing to loan me their kids for the day in case I get lonely.
In fact, here’s a really cute one who lives less half a mile from me.
I ask you– when was the last time you got this kind of happy ABOUT A
TOMATO? How’s that for perspective? This one gets good gifts from me all the time, so I’m pretty sure SHE’S going to come visit me when I’m 99 years old and all alone in the Home for People With Ice in Their Veins.
–We recently discovered a button on our stove that says (I’m not joking) STOP TIME. We found this so amusing that we tried to photograph it to share the true existential wonderfulness of it with the world, but for some reason, the STOP TIME button will not be photographed, day or night, flash or not, overhead light on or off. Maybe you can only really appreciate it if you see it in person. Maybe that’s the true existential message of the STOP TIME button.
–I am still waiting on a trade paperback deal for Hollywood Car Wash, so if you have a friend or maybe an uncle who works in publishing, you let me know. This one SEEMS like a slam dunk to me, though I could be wrong. It SEEMS like selling alot of copies of a novel, having people write good reviews, getting mentioned on talk shows and in magazines, and having fans write in saying "I can’t wait for your next novel" would be enough to get you a big book deal. Is there some part of the equation that I’m missing? Maybe the part where my book consistently OUTRANKS other books that Big Publishing America put money behind (Little Pinks Slips, anyone? Hollywood Girls Club? Model Summer? Have I said too much now?) Meanwhile, it’s ok, because I’m actually making MORE money this way, but what I’d really like is for people to be able to buy my book in the airport/ grocery store/ Barnes & Noble in Boise, know what I’m saying?
–This past weekend was our annual "Summer Barbeque/ Stephan’s Mom’s Birthday" celebration, where we had a lovely time and learned the following:
- For some reason, little kids LOVE karaoke. They don’t know the words, but they don’t care.
- Jim Cox = still great at barbequing.
- Two little girls AND one grown will be unable to win a game of tug of war against our dog, even if combined they outweigh him. Nope. Can’t be done. The dog is dedicated to his tug of war game.
- If you put a brand-new 80GB iPod in a portable Bose speaker set thing, then but that on top of a metal surface, then play Steely Dan really loud, the whole shebang will vibrate itself off the edge, slamming said iPod onto the concrete, leaving a big dent, and making the iPod make the "sad Mac" face. Dead, I tell you! Dead!
Oh, did I mention that barbequing turns Stephan gay? Maybe someone should’ve told Brett.
So, that’s it for now. Coming this Friday– an essay/ list I’ve been working on, called "Things I Will Never Do Again, Now That I’m Over Thirty." Sure to be a big hit– please, send in your contributions, and I’ll give you a shout out. Oh, and if you want slightly more frequent updates that are directly related to my novel, please visit the blog on my MySpace page!