Danielle Steel's Blog, page 52

Wow!!

Hi Everyone,

In the silly trivia department, I spent a weekend with my kids recently, and while we were flipping through magazines, they came upon an article, in a very respectable magazine actually, about how much DJ’s make. My kids asked me to guess, with a smug look on their faces, and I threw out some numbers. No, they hooted, try again. So I did. So finally got to about $100,000, a year, thinking that was a lot, and the kids screamed with laughter. Try again…..I nearly fell out of my seat when they read the numbers off to me. The top DJ in the world (whose name they recognized and I didn’t) makes 20 million dollars a year!!! Yes, that was TWENTY MILLION. Now, wait a minute…how is that possible? They read down the list, and one of the other really successful ones makes thirteen million. I gulped. Holy Sh–!! That’s amazing!! And they don’t play every night. They are sought out for very special events obviously, and they work frequently but not all the time. I still can’t get over it, $20 million, that’s as much or more than some major rock stars, probably more than a lot of movie stars, and waaaaayyyyyy more than a lot of very respectable professions. That really seems like a modern day phenomenon that a DJ, who plays music at parties makes that kind of money. My kids weren’t surprised at all, and have known those figures for a while.

I just had to share that with you, because I thought it was amazing and very impressive…..so now we all know, if our careers and jobs tank, we had better learn how to DJ. And I’m sure there is an art to it, I just never realized how well they were paid. So that’s my bit of trivia for today.

Love, Danielle

Here Comes Minnie!!!

Yes, here she comes!!! Minnie is my white long haired, 2 pound teacup Chihuahua, named Minnie Mouse. She turned 2 years old last Sunday, and to me anyway, she is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen!!

My children warned me when I got her that I’d better not turn into one of these weird women with a Chihuahua, but clearly I have. I’ve had a lot of dogs in my life, but some are extra special. I can think of 3 before Minnie whom I loved a lot, a pug dog named Jamie that I had as a child, a black miniature Brussels Griffon (they look like an Ewok) named Greta who had a fierce underbite (Brussels Griffs have squashed noses), and another Griffon (a fawn colored one) named Gracie……and now there’s Minnie.

I was looking for a dog small enough for me to travel with and take her in the cabin on the plane (in a little travel bag), going back and forth to Paris, and the weight limit for that is 12 pounds. All the other dogs are bigger, but Minnie is certainly very, very tiny. I’ve never had a dog this small. Two pounds is very small. She’s about the size of a (sorry, Minnie) small guinea pig. I found her in a pet shop in New York, when she was 2 months old, and weighed just over a pound. It’s a reputable shop where I know the people who work there and have bought great dogs there before. She had to stay there for another month until she was big enough to go home, and you’ve never seen anything so tiny.

She has an adorable personality, and is a really easy little dog. She travels everywhere with me. She has sweaters, warm coats, a couple of really silly little ‘dresses’ that I’ve only put on her once, and a gray sweater with a pink flower on it. Oh, and some raincoats she has yet to wear. When it’s cold, I don’t take her out, because she’s so small. She has an igloo bed, sleeps in a playpen (I can’t sleep with her in case I’d squash her, or she’d fall out of bed and get hurt), and she loves her toys!!! (Her favorite is a little gray mouse toy I got at Ikea, and she got a new pink mouse for her birthday.) She is playful, loving, funny, loves to run around the house, and hates the fax machine and the ice maker. She has lots of personality, and loves to fall asleep in my arms. So as you can see, I love Miss Minnie. And she has inspired me to write about her.

I wrote a book not only about her, but about all our family dogs over the years. It’s full of funny stories about my kids and dogs, with 40 photographs. The book is called “Pure Joy”, and will be out on October 29, for all dog lovers!!!. And having written that book in great part about her and my experiences with her, and our other dogs (Minnie is on the cover, a great photograph), I wrote a children’s book about her too, called “Pretty Minnie in Paris”, about a little girl in Paris who has a Chihuahua just like her. It’s wonderfully illustrated, and I’m working on a second children’s book about Minnie now. Minnie is a star!!! There are also going to be Pinterest Boards about her in September, she’ll have her own page on FaceBook, probably in October, and I’m going to Tweet about her on Twitter…..so watch out world, here comes Minnie!!!!!

Love, Danielle

Word Perfect

Hi Everyone,

I’m having fun with art again and just curated an art show we titled “Word Perfect”. I love art with words in it, and I curate an art show every August for a wonderful gallery in San Francisco, the Andrea Schwartz Gallery. Andrea and I have a ball working on the show together. She very generously invites me to do a show in her gallery every year, to pick whatever theme I like and whatever artists. And this is the second time we’ve done one with art that involves words.

We pick the theme for the show in January, and start looking at artists’ work. I usually use one or two of the artists I represented at my gallery (Andrea took on many of my artists when I closed my gallery), and we use some of her artists that she represents as well. It’s a group show, which includes several artists’ work. After we decide on the artists for whatever theme we choose, we contact them, and ask them to be in the show, and in April or May we pick the pieces we want to show from the work they have available that is appropriate for the show. They send us their work in July, and around the first of August, I spend a day hanging the show, and deciding where everything goes. It is always so exciting to see the work once it arrives, and then to see how it all looks together. It always thrilled me to hang a show when I had my own gallery, and I enjoy it just as much when I do it now at Andrea’s gallery. Two days after we hang it, she gives a party for the opening of the show, with music, wonderful hors d’oeuvres, and wine. Usually one or several reporters and/or art critics are there the night of the opening, her client list, some of my friends and children, and it’s really a fun event.

There was some very interesting work in the show, and a lot of really fun pieces. There was a Buddha head (about 3 feet tall) that was carved from a block of books glued together that had been sanded down to look like wood. An amazing piece. Cara Barer transforms books into interesting shapes and then photographs them and her work was in the show, and a new artist that Andrea had found: Lucky Rapp, who does words on resin in monochromatic colors, and look as though they’re lacquered. She uses fun or thought-provoking words, like “Whatever” and ‘Hope”, or sayings like “Talk to me” and “Blah blah blah”. They looked terrific on the walls. There was a beautiful piece in subtle colors made up with collages, with the theme “Dream”. And a very humorous artist from Colorado, whose last name is Kunkel who combines funny sayings with fun paintings, and his work always makes me laugh. We also included one of Andrea’s artists in the show, Seamus Conley, who does surrealistic work that is truly beautiful. It all worked together really well, the show looked great, and the opening was lots of fun!! And I hung some of my own work in the show this time. For many years, I have looked for vintage letters, usually in bright colors, in wood, plastic and metal (from old signs mostly), and I make words with them. I had 3 words in the show “Word” and “Perfect” and “Wow”, and it was exciting to see my work in the show too.

I love keeping my hand in the art world, especially when I get to combine art with words!!! I loved curating the show, and hope to do one again next year!!!

Love, Danielle

Vacation? What vacation? Where??

Hi Everyone,

Although I always say that “I never work in the summer”, I seem to have been telling a white lie about that this year. In years past, I made it a hard and fast rule, that from the time my kids got out of school for the summer, until they went back to school around Labor Day, I didn’t work, so I could hang out with them, play and have all free time for them, and take some trips. And in the last ten years, once my older kids were married, I took a trip every year with my 5 youngest children and a friend for each. It’s always been so much fun, and what I live for all year. But as much as I hate to admit it, even to myself, times have changed. I feel very blessed that we still took a trip this year (the five youngest and I and their significant others or friends) and we had a great week together in the South of France. But with my youngest graduated from college a year ago, and ALL of my kids working (Wow!!), time together is harder to come by. They were wonderful again this year about spending time with me, with their limited amount of vacation from work, and I am so grateful to them for doing that. And they are all coming home for a long weekend for my birthday. But time is hard to come by now, they are pressured by work, have commitments in the other cities where they live, and I suddenly found myself with a lonnnnggggg summer on my hands, and too little to do. And the one thing I am terrible with is ‘down time’, and ‘relaxing’. Re-WHAT?? What was that word again? I putter around the house, do some projects, and within about 2 days, I am doing what our grandmothers used to call ‘fretting’, and the only thing I know how to do with time on my hands is work. I am a true work horse, and work always makes me happy.

So I had a glorious week with my 5 youngest kids this summer, and in France the entire country goes on vacation for two months. Half the country in July and the other half in August (they get that by law, 5 weeks for each employee of any business, and traditionally they all take it in summer, businesses and offices close, and restaurants and services, and you can’t get anything done in France in the summer). So since I spend most of the summer in France, all my friends were away, and once my kids left, I puttered for about two days, and..did what I know best how to do and love,…went back to work. I plunged happily into my writing (during a huge heat wave in Paris, and no one there has air conditioning. It was HOT, over a hundred degrees). As I shared with you, I went to Euro Disney outside Paris with my God children before that, and had a blast. But once I was alone, with my kids back at work, and friends and their families away, I hunkered down at my typewriter and worked hard. So it has turned into a writing summer, with good results, I think, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I’d much rather be lying on a beach somewhere with my kids, but since they’re working too……Mom was back at the typewriter, and loving every minute of it. When I left Paris, I stopped in New York, to appear on the TV show The View, with my wonderful friend Barbara Walters, Whoopi Goldberg, and the other ladies on the show, whom I love. It’s a great show to be on and they treat me so well, and are so kind and welcoming to me. It was actually a fun appearance, although going on TV always terrifies me. It seems so scary to be on live TV, worrying about how you look and if you sound stupid, and what if you make a fool of yourself, or trip walking in?? Scary stuff. I was on the show to talk about my new book, “First Sight”, which just came out in hardcover. I hope you’ll read it and love it (it’s about a woman who is a leader of the fashion industry, her search for her natural mother, and her affair with a married man). And I’ve been blessed that my book “Friends Forever” came out in hardcover and was No. 1 on the bestseller lists for several weeks, and I hope you read and love that one too.

Before I left Paris, I had several meetings about the songs I wrote the lyrics for (ballads) with 3 French composers (sung by 2 wonderful unknown singers, an American woman and French man), and we are signing for an album, called Love Notes by Danielle Steel. And you should be able to get it on the Internet soon and hopefully in CD’s in stores too!!! So that was very exciting!!! I hope you enjoy the songs. We’ll put a link on this website once everything is up and running, so you can check it out.

Once back in San Francisco, I hit my typewriter again, and I just curated a contemporary art show that I do every August for a gallery in San Francisco, the Andrea Schwartz Gallery. We start working on it in January, deciding on the theme for the show. The owners of the gallery, Steve and Andrea are great to me, and Andrea and I put our heads together every year to come up with a fun show. We both like art with words in it, so our theme this time was “Word Perfect”. We spend months choosing the right artists and looking at their work. We sometimes use some of the artists I represented at my own gallery before I closed (two of my old artists are in the current show, and Andrea took on several of them when I closed). We include some of the artists she represents, and find new ones for the show. And by February, we approach artists and invite them to be in the show, and over the next months, decide which pieces of their work to use. And there is REALLY some fun stuff in this one!! By June we’re all set, in July the artists send us the pieces we agree on, and 3 days after I got home, we put the show up, and it looks soooo GREAT, I love it!!! As much as I love writing and it’s my passion, I still love art so much, and keeping my hand in the contemporary art business. And once the show opens, my kids will come to visit for a few days, and then I’ll be back to writing. So it wasn’t much of a ‘vacation’ this year, with one week away with the kids, and a few days visit, it has been a working summer, but it’s been productive, and I’ve really enjoyed it. And things are more peaceful in the summer, so I get more work done. That’s a great feeling, and I’ve enjoyed what I’ve done. Sometimes work can be restful and satisfying when it goes smoothly.

So that’s what I’ve been up to this summer…..a lot of work, on the writing, and some music and art!!! And some very special and greatly appreciated moments with my kids. What was that word again?? RE—-what?…re-?????oh!!! RELAX!!! Oh THAT!!!!….Time off? Vacation? Oh well, maybe next year….hope you’re having a great summer!!! Mine has been pretty good so far, and busy!!!

Love, Danielle

Age

Age. Wow. Such a tiny word for such a big issue and big subject. I always like the silly saying, “Age doesn’t matter unless you are a banana.” Clearly, that was written by someone who was fourteen years old.

I don’t know why but age has always bothered me, at every age, you’re either too young, or too old, or feel too old when you are young. I hate the numbers. I got off to an early start. I went to college at 15, married for the first time at 18, had my first child (and wrote my first book) at 19, and was always rushing to do something. And by now everyone must figure I’m 102, because I’ve been around for a long time. I actually wrote a book about the issue of age, called “Happy Birthday”, about 3 people turning 30,50 and 60 on the same day, and there is actually some funny and also pertinent stuff in that book.

I HATE landmark birthdays. In fact, I hate my birthdays altogether, and really shouldn’t. I got off to a bad start on birthdays. Mine is in the summer, when everyone was always on vacation, a perfect excuse for my parents not to celebrate it, postpone it, promise to do so later and never get around to it, because after the summer, everyone was too busy. So to me, as a little kid, birthdays spelled disappointment. As a result, I treated my children’s birthdays as MAJOR national events, with birthday parties, balloons, lots of gifts, themes, really fun parties, and I tried to give them the fabulous birthdays I never had.. And my children, in turn, are great to me on my birthday, everyone shows up and celebrates me (we won’t however mention some of the comments, like one of my daughters who looked at my cake with all the candles on it a few years ago and said, “Holy Sh–, Mom, it looks like a forest fire!!” Hmmm….never mind. They are very good to me on my birthday, and their father was too and made a big fuss about it, but I guess our childhoods mark us, and I never quite got that sad feeling about birthdays out of my head, and I always dread my birthdays. I remember thinking I was ancient at 25, practically dead and distraught at turning 30. 35 had me worried, 40 depressed me profoundly, and landmark ages ever since, or every birthday rattle me every year. And although I’m not that old by normal human standards, I look at my passport now and think WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING??? Whose age is that?? That can’t be me.

Age is such a damn complicated complex weird concept, and even now I’m not sure what it means. Every time I feel ancient, I look at photos of me 5 years ago (when I also felt ancient and wasn’t), and think “hmm….I looked okay then”, but at the time I felt as though I looked like King Tut. What the hell is that about? Why do we feel so old when we’re really not? And why do some people think birthdays are such a fabulous event? My ex-husband used to celebrate his for a week, with party after party after party with his friends. Another friend celebrates hers for a month. A month? Are you kidding, I can barely stand mine for a day. When nightfall comes on my birthday, I think Whew, that’s over with. When people say “Happy Birthday” I wince. Stupid really. We compare ourselves to people older or younger, wonder if we look better or worse. We run into people we went to school with and either chortle inwardly about how bad they look, relieved that we look better or run home wanting to cry because we think they look better and we look worse. And nowadays, 22 year old girls start using Botox on their faces, and far too many women rush to have face lifts, and ruin their looks and even make themselves look older with faces we no longer recognize. I am a profound coward and hate pain, and I’m way too chicken to ever have plastic surgery (or Botox), so I’m stuck with the face nature gives me at whatever age. I’d be too scared not to recognize myself in the mirror. But then I whine when I look at photographs, and worry that I look old. And (kind) people claim I don’t look my age, so whose age do I look? Grandma Moses? Or Brittney Spears? Neither one, I guess. I guess I just look like me.

The weird thing about age is that it is mostly in our heads. Somewhere along the way, the clock stops in our heads, and we wind up feeling 25 forever. I feel no different than I did at 25 or 30 or 35, I’m still young in my head (remaining immature forever will help one feel young at every age!!). Seriously, I don’t feel any different. And I don’t look too dramatically different than I did 10 years ago. So why do we feel old because we are a certain age? Young people beat themselves up for not having accomplished everything they dream of at a certain age, they aren’t married yet, or don’t have a baby yet, don’t own a house, haven’t met the man or woman of their dreams or aren’t running a corporation. Older people feel old because they can’t run as fast, guys may not have as much hair, or a woman may wear a different dress size than she did at 22. But why do we really feel old? I’m not sure. Obviously, health plays a big part at any age, but assuming you’re in decent health, why do we feel old? Who are we measuring ourselves against? Angelina Jolie? Brad Pitt? And there seem to be no rules about what happens when, in life. People have babies older, fall in love and marry at 75 or 85 or 90, success in business comes to most people a lot later than we expect, except in rare instances or fields. I think age is a matter of head and heart even more than years. If you’ve given up on life and have shut down and lost hope, you feel mighty old. If you’re still engaged, involved, have fun at least some of the time, and there is something you like about life, you’re not old yet, no matter what your driver’s license says.

We, particularly women, are also expected to measure ourselves against impossible standards. With 3 daughters who work in fashion, I know some of the injustices of that field. As we turn the pages of fashion magazines, and compare ourselves to the women in them—-those aren’t women, in most cases they are 15 to 18 year old girls, sometimes even 14, and rarely older than 20. One of my daughters chooses the models for her fashion shows while they are still too young to have womanly curves. That’s sneaky, and not fair. How am I expected to look like that?? I can’t, and never did, although ‘womanly curves’ have never been part of the landscape for me, I was skinny as a kid, and have been thin all my life, not curvy. But the fashion icons we envy are girls in their teens. Of course they look great, their skin is perfect, their faces unlined, and their hips non-existent. I’m always grateful when I see beautiful women who are older and have done nothing to their faces (like Meryl Streep)—-thank YOU for giving me a role model I can live with, looks like a real person, and is still beautiful. It scares the hell out of me when I see women my age, or usually a lot older, who look terrible, and I think “Oh my God, do I look like that?” My self-image is not great, and I can never figure out how old I look.

I am full of admiration when I meet much older people who are loving life and doing great things. A woman I knew and loved, who lived to be 100 and was terrific to her last day (and incredibly chic) was constantly taking classes, running around the world, and at 86, decided to learn French by living with a French family for 6 months, in a total immersion program (sharing one bathroom with a family of about 10 people in a tiny house in a miserable industrial part of France). Wow!!! (And she was happily married to a man 25 years younger than she, and she outlived him by many years). When I was 20, I lived with my ex-husband’s grandfather who lived to be 103, was fantastic, used to take me dancing and went to his office every day. And in recent years, I know 3 women who are over 100, are still independent, drive, go out, see friends, have fun and are fabulous. Admittedly, that’s rare, but there are people like that out there. And my role model in life is a dear friend who is now 84, still active as an interior designer, still beautiful, and busier, more with it and more fun than anyone I know. I want to be like that when I grow up. So why do I complain about how old I am, when I am decades younger than those women? I don’t know. And relationships seem different to me now. I always was attracted to men 20 or 30 years older than I, all the significant men in my life were more than 20 years older than I. And now, I just don’t care about age, and am just as attracted to much younger men than older ones, and age seems totally irrelevant. It’s all about how nice, kind, smart, and interesting they are (and fun to be with), and that has nothing to do with age. I no longer care about a lot of the things that limited me when I was younger. And without question, in Europe, younger men are frequently attracted and go out with older women. No one seems to care, so why should I??

So here we are, it’s August and I have a birthday looming, and while I was growling about it tonight, I started thinking about how irrelevant age can be, if you’re willing to think that way. One of my daughters is having a birthday she’s not happy about, and she has no idea how young she is, but I was the same way at her age. Maybe my birthday promise to myself this year should be not to give a damn how old I am, or what the numbers are. Maybe the secret to life and the fountain of youth is to just live your life to the fullest and enjoy every moment and stop worrying about the numbers. And I’m not even sure that ‘youth’ is so much fun. My teens were not happy years, my 20′s were a hell of a struggle trying to figure out who I was, my 30′s were great (success, a happy marriage and many kids), and after that I made myself miserable about how old I was getting, was going to be, would be one day, and worrying about it.

So perhaps the saying that age doesn’t matter unless you are a banana is truer than we think. Maybe it just doesn’t matter, and you just stay busy, keep moving, keep opening doors, trying new things, and learning about life. Maybe that’s what it’s all about. I’m not a tree, I’m not a banana, and I never looked like Angelina Jolie even at her age. I’m just me. So what the hell…..maybe age really doesn’t matter at all. I think maybe I’ll go with that this year. Maybe we should all stop whining about how old we are, or worrying about it, and just celebrate the fact that we’re here and enjoy life. I think gratitude is a terrific antidote for age—better than a face lift. And if someone wishes me a happy birthday, I will try not to growl at them this year!!!

Love, Danielle

“Are you still a Brain Surgeon?”

Hi,

As you all know, now and then I air my pet peeves, so here goes.

There is a phenomenon that I have encountered for a long time, years, which I always take personally, has irritated me considerably, and I figured that people just do to me to be annoying. I just discovered that I am not the only one it happens to, and I think it is something that only men do to only women, and not just to me.

It goes like this, I run into a man I know or meet at a dinner party for the first time in a long time. After hello, they open with, “So, are you still writing?” Hmmm…..this immediately suggests to me that they have not read the NY Times (bestseller list) in many years, the Wall Street Journal, or maybe they don’t read at all. Yes, I am STILL writing. What this does is that it immediately puts my writing into the category as a hobby. As in, are you still taking piano lessons, doing macrame, have a parrot? I don’t have a huge ego about my work, but let’s face it, for me it is a job. A job I love, and I have been doing it since I was 19 years old. I have been in the Guinness book of world records repeatedly for having a book on the bestseller list for more weeks consecutively than whoever. Yes, for Heaven’s sake, I am still writing. It’s my work, my job, how my family eats and went to college. People said that comment to me when I was 35. Now when they say it, I get even more insulted because I think they’re suggesting I must be too old to write, but it’s actually not about that. (And I’m not that old yet). The comment is an immediate put down. It is a way of suggesting that what I do is really not very important. Women NEVER ask me that question. But SOME men do. The men who do, I find, are VERY uncomfortable about my success at what I do, and VERY annoyed by it. The other really ridiculous comment is “You have an AGENT?” Of course I have an agent, I have written 130 books that are sold in 69 countries in 43 languages—they think maybe I write letters by hand and send them to publishers around the world to sell my books? Of course I have an agent (a fabulous one I love). I never say to guys, “So are you still a lawyer?…A doctor?…A brain surgeon?” They would think I’m nuts if I did. But men who are annoyed by women’s success in business have to find a way to put them down. And what better way to insult someone than minimize what they do, imply that it’s really insignificant, and inquire if they’re still doing it? Are you still bungee jumping off your mother’s roof?? Having contests to see how many grapes you can squeeze into your mouth?? (That was so much fun when I was about 8). I was actually a pogo stick champion when I was about 10, and no I am not doing that anymore. But YES, I AM STILL WRITING. In fact, I finished a book about an hour ago. It is SUCH a dumb question coming from an intelligent person. If you walk into a bookstore, open a newspaper, or whatever, you can see that I am ‘still’ writing. The worst form of that was at a dinner party I went to years ago. I sat down, I smiled at the man next to me and I’m a shy person, and he barked at me, “Who do you think you are?” Was that a trick question? No it was a man who was so uptight about what I’ve accomplished that he needed to be insulting before he even met me, to make himself feel better. The other comment men like to make is another winner “My maid just loves your books”. Really, well thank God for her. There are LOTS of men who DON’T have an issue with women being successful in business, but unfortunately some who do. I love talking to men who aren’t threatened by women who work, do it well, and do well at it. It’s a pleasure to talk to them. But the ones with a chip on their shoulder really are a bore and not much fun.

I think some people are threatened if one is enterprising or has many/varied interests. I studied design in college and went to design school as well as NYU. And I still do interior design to this day. I had a contemporary art gallery for 5 years. I do some art pieces myself, and have recently started selling them in 2 galleries. I curate contemporary art shows for a gallery in San Francisco. I began writing song lyrics 2 years ago with 3 composers in France, and am now signing for an album of those songs. Doing different things keeps life fun, but that threatens some people too, which really is too bad. Is it jealousy? Or just bad manners? When I opened my gallery, a man I know (though not well enough for him to insult me) said, “Well, we always knew you were crazy, now you’ve proven it.” Why would ANYONE say something like that? I sure wouldn’t. And women don’t make those comments to other women. Unfortunately, some men do.

This is stuff I have lived with and put up with for many years since my first book got published in my early 20′s. But I was speaking to a woman tonight, a good friend and she started a business a few years ago, and now SHE is getting those same comments. And that suddenly made me realize that it’s not about me, it’s about men who don’t like women getting out there, doing something new or innovative and accomplishing something. Why are we not just in the kitchen cooking? (In my case, because I’m a terrible cook!!) The friend I was speaking to is a very talented interior designer, and has been successful at it for many years. A few years ago, 3 or 4, she decided to do something completely different, and she started a shoe company. Unbelievably brave, to do something that far afield from what you normally do. In order to start it intelligently, she traveled to Viet Nam, China, Brazil, and more recently Mexico to learn more about production. In the past 3 years she has traveled to China constantly, learned all about production, and has produced some VERY nice shoes that are now selling well. Now SHE is getting those same snotty comments from men who are annoyed by what she’s doing. I personally am floored by the guts and creativity she had, I wouldn’t know how to start a shoe company, and I would be scared to death to travel all over the world to figure out how to make a shoe. But she’s done it, and it’s a great shoe line, she’s selling them in good stores, in the US, and now even in one of the best stores in Paris. Hats off to her!!! And she works hard at it. And how amazing to be that brave and creative. But now she is getting “Are you still doing ‘those’ shoes?” Yes, she is, and doing damn well at it, thank you.

In our conversation, we figured out that certain lines of work are considered acceptable by the men who make those comments. Interior Design is not threatening, it’s okay. Being an artist. Probably being a model, cooking, and a flight attendant. But go into business, make a product, cross the line into a business a man would do, or like to do, and you’re in trouble, and suddenly you’re a threat. We’re not trying to take jobs away from men, or make them look bad. We’re working. So are they. And if we’re selling art, or making shoes, or writing, we’re working as hard as everyone else, and deserve some respect for how hard we work. Ladies, watch out for the men who resent the kind of work you do and make nasty comments. And Gentlemen, please be nice and please don’t make those comments about our work. Give us a break. And yes, I STILL write.

Love, Danielle

The Golden Dove

When my family and I go on vacation, we tend to become sedentary, and stay put where we are. We don’t seem to be the kind of people who explore the area, take helicopter rides over volcanoes, or even go out to dinner to local restaurants. Once we plant ourselves somewhere for our family vacation, and there are a lot of us, adventure trips aren’t part of the plan. We lie in the sun all day, there is lots of swimming, occasionally some fishing if we’re on a boat, and evenings together wherever we are staying, and everyone seems happy that way. And when we were on a boat, we left the boat at night once during a trip for dinner off the boat. But most of the time, the kids and I were happy at anchor somewhere (off Corsica or Sardinia, or tied up at some rocks outside the tiny port of Portofino), and not even going into port. And we usually had one nightclub adventure per trip, but we haven’t done that in a few years. And this year, we had a lot of fun at night playing a game called “Catch Phrase”, which you pass around like a hot potato, playing what looks like Charades, with a timer and a buzzer to add tension to the game as you try to describe the ‘phrase’ on the screen without actually saying the words. In our case, it involves a lot of screaming, shrieking, and laughing, and the family is divided into two teams. I love the game!! We also play a lot Scrabble, some cards and liar’s dice. We read in the sun (they read other people’s books, not mine, it’s hard to be a hero on your own turf), and have lunch and dinner together every day. Our vacations involve my five younger children, each brings a friend or significant other. My three older married children make their own plans and have young children. And the younger five and I + their 5 friends or SO’s spend a week together in France or Italy, and have since they were born. The older ones were part of the group until they married a few years ago and had their own kids, and enjoy doing different things now with their own families. So there are eleven or twelve of us now on our family vacation every summer. And we love being lazy, relaxing, and having fun together. And as we do every summer, we decided to go out for one dinner, and stayed comfortably at our hotel the rest of the time. (We’re a big group to move around, so we do very little moving during our vacation week).

For the past few years, the ‘kids’ (all in their 20′s) have asked about a famous restaurant in a town in the South of France called St. Paul de Vence. And the restaurant is called La Colombe d’Or, which means The Golden Dove. I always thought it would be too fancy (and we like staying relaxed and informal on our holidays), and it was about a half hour from our hotel, which seemed like a trek. But this year we decided to try it. St Paul de Vence is a medieval town, with a beautiful small church at the top of a hill, the hill is covered with small ancient buildings that wend their way up the hill, bordering a narrow street (maybe 6 feet wide), passable only on foot, and paved with small stones. You don’t want to be walking up the steep hill in high heels!!! There are little shops and art galleries, other narrow streets leading away from the main one. I went to a wedding in the little church two years ago, and it was absolutely beautiful. There is a main square when you first arrive at the town, with a restaurant. Everything is beautifully kept up, and it is a well-known tourist attraction in the South of France, about 40 minutes away from the sea. And locals play ‘boule’, also known as ‘petanque’ in the main square, which is a game with a small metal ball you throw far away, and then try to approach it with larger metal balls (about the size of grapefruits). It’s a game they play a lot in the South of France, and in Italy. Old men sit in local squares and play for hours, while others watch.

We wandered up the hill, on the stone paved streets, glancing into narrow alleys, and enjoying the walk before dinner, and then we went back down the hill to the restaurant at the edge of the main Square. The restaurant is very famous in the region, because the small towns in the South were home to some of France’s most famous artists, Chagall, Picasso, Miró, Léger, and others who lived there at one time, and had studios there, even long before they were famous, and it must have been a great place to live. In its early days, La Colombe d’Or was one of their hang outs, and when they ran up enough of a bill, they would give the owner of the restaurant a painting or a piece of sculpture in payment, and the wise owner in this case hung onto all of their art. (It is also a small hotel now), and before or after dinner, you can wander through small sitting rooms on the lobby floor, and the walls are covered with drawings and paintings by artists whose work you normally only see in important museums. There are several Calder sculptures, and a beautiful one next to the swimming pool. The art is breathtaking, and you can sit in the garden, with a Fernand Léger looking over your shoulder. The art is mesmerizing, and makes it a special experience even before you eat. It’s like having dinner in a small, cozy, home style museum. And a big group like ours was easily accommodated in the family style garden, with beautiful sculptures all around us. Just being there is a piece of art history, and we were all fascinated by it.

The dinner was delicious, as we had been told it would be. Just great food, not overly pretentious, just warm and friendly service and wonderful French food. We had a wonderful dinner and a terrific time, and walked through the rooms again after dinner, to discover the art on every wall. We had a fantastic dinner, and were bowled over by the art of famous artists all around us. And as we left, we promised ourselves and each other that we would come back again next year. It was well worth the 40 minute drive to get there, and the effort to leave our hotel. And we chatted all the way back about all the art we had seen. It was a remarkable setting and far more exciting, personal, and alive than seeing it in a museum. We were just inches away from some very major artwork as we ate our dinner in the garden. It was an unforgettable experience.

For the rest of the trip, we were lazy as we always are and ate at the hotel where we were staying, on the sea. The kids continued to swim for the rest of our stay, and play the games we enjoyed at night….and our trip to the Golden Dove will remain a cultural highlight of our trip. It brought art to our fingertips, as part of real life, while we enjoyed a lively family dinner, in the same place those artists had come to so many years ago, and paid for their dinners with their destined to be famous work. What a treat!!!

Love, Danielle

Name That Baby!!!….or maybe not.

Hi everyone…..With two members of my staff pregnant this summer (with a girl and a boy), talk of baby names has been rife in my office. Well, actually, not really baby names. The naming game is one that I am VERY familiar with. With 9 kids, we struggled through that several times, finding just the right name, and we still like the ones we chose. (My kids are all in my dedications, so you’ve probably seen their names many times before). And every time I start a book, I pore over all my old baby name books, to find just the right ones for the characters. It’s amazing how a name can sometimes portray the personality of a character. Sometimes I’ve used complicated ones, and at other times simpler ones, and often foreign ones.

Recently, all of my kids inform me that the trend now is to unusual names, the kind people used to use in order to use a family last name as a first name, or their mother’s maiden name. They always had the ring of history, and sometimes made for interesting names for children of either sex. But they can be heavy handles too, and are androgynous. Sterling, Whitman, Ellsworth and Hornby, it’s hard to turn those into cuddly names, they all sound like bankers to me, and should be born with briefcase in hand, or a loan document, or legal brief. They sound like the partners in a law firm and often were named for people who had been. They are impressive, but always sound a little serious to me. (Although I wanted to use a family last name of my husband’s family, Teal—the famous designer Teal Traina. My husband didn’t like it as a first name, I did, so we used it as a middle name for one of my daughters. And he always wanted to name a son Steel, which just sounded too hard to me). But nowadays, people seem to be using those same names, but with no family association. Bixby, Thornton, Wildman and Hartley, a multitude of last names used as first names, for boys or girls, not related to anyone the parents know or are related to, but just because they like the sound of them. They seem a little no-frills to me for a girl, and don’t make as much sense to me if they aren’t a relative’s maiden name. But that is apparently the hot name-trend today.

And then there are the ones who are really out there with flights of fancy. The trailblazers for that were in the 60′s, and I remember those names too, Bird, Chirp, Peacock, Rainbow, Waterfall, Leaf, River, Mouse, Thunder, Spring, Bluebird, Eagle——birds were a big feature then, and you could name a child pretty much anything, and still can. And that trend is going great guns again too, with names like Ocean, Firefly, Butterfly, and Tree. And Demi Moore and Bruce Willis named their daughters Rumor and Scout, which startled me when I met them with my kids, and they are both lovely girls.

I have to admit, I’m not ready for those exotic names even now. I like names that I recognize as names, not so much objects or animals that I’m fond of, like Strawberry, or Quince, Pomegranate, or Poodle. I don’t think I could face a child I had named Chihuahua, or Pineapple, Blueberry or Grapefruit. Asparagus? Artichoke? Rutabaga? They might be really mad at me one day….or Hawk, or Blue Jay. But what do I know? Maybe I’m old fashioned. Jewel names also come in and out of fashion, Pearl, Ruby, and Emerald. The possibilities are endless.

There is no moral to this story. You can name a child anything you want. But given the fact that through the generations, ‘kids’ eventually blame their parents for something, and our sins and failings come home to roost sooner or later, I wouldn’t want to face a child who was furious with me for naming them Kalamazoo, Okefenokee, or Typewriter, tempting as that may be at times.(One of the illustrious Gettys named their child Gramophone, which was certainly creative). Personally, I was named after a famous French actress my father had a crush on, and my mother threw in a second part of it that I never liked, to wind me up with Danielle-Fernande. I never liked it, and it was a big handle for a little kid. I always wished I was named Veronique/Veronica, or Alessandra. A lot of people don’t like their names, but it takes a brave kid to start out life and continue down the path as Rattlesnake, Whirlwind, Tarantula, or Pancake, because their mother was addicted to them while she was pregnant…..maybe today’s new Moms and Dads need to give a little more thought to the names they give their babies…..because one day they may have to face that child and do some serious explaining about the name they were given……in fact, to me anyway, Isabelle, Charlotte, Alexander, Simon and Sebastian are sounding better and better……but what do I know….maybe one day a whole generation of children named after cooking implements or geographical locations will think it’s fine. I’ve always loved Xenia, India (which my father almost named me until he remembered the French actress from his youth), which seem more exotic…….maybe one day I’ll have a grandchild named Vino Bianco, or Mosquito, or Stiletto……I’ll let you know when that happens.

Love, Danielle

Pure Joy

PURE JOY

In Stores: October 29, 2013

It was time again. To take a chance. To expand her life in unexpected ways. To find a companion with whom to travel the world. So a successful novelist begins a dogged search. Who knew the perfect choice would be a smaller-than-small, long-haired teacup Chihuahua named Minnie Mouse? It was love at first sight.

In this funny, lovely, moving memoir, Danielle Steel tells the story of how she met a dog the size of a mouse with a personality that could light up an entire room. From Minnie’s arrival at home in San Francisco to clothes-shopping jaunts in Paris, her adventures provide the perfect backdrop for a heartfelt look at the magic that dogs bring to our lives, and how they become part of the family, making indelible memories.

We meet Steel’s childhood pug, James; and Elmer, the basset hound who was steadfastly at her side in her struggling days as a young writer; Sweet Pea—unveiled in a Tiffany box for a dog-loving husband—and all those lucky dogs who shared a household of nine children, other canines, and one potbellied pig. As she reflects on the beloved pets who have brought joy, and sometimes chaos, to her home through the years, Steel also shares her thoughts on the trials and tribulations of bringing a new dog into a household, the challenges of housebreaking and compatibility, the losses we feel forever.

Filled with colorful characters (human and otherwise), delightful photographs, practical wisdom drawn from long experience, and brimming with warmth and insight on every page, Pure Joy is a love letter to this special relationship—and one of the most charming books yet from the incomparable Danielle Steel.

Winners

WINNERS

In Stores: October 29, 2013

Even the most perfect lives can be shattered in an instant. In this moving, emotionally charged novel, Danielle Steel introduces readers to an unforgettable cast of characters striving to overcome tragedy and discover the inner resources and resilience to win at life—once again.

Lily Thomas is an aspiring young ski champion training for the Olympics, a young woman with her heart set on winning the gold. But in one moment, Lily’s future is changed forever, her hopes for the Olympics swept away in a tragic accident. Dr. Jessie Matthews, the neurosurgeon who operates on Lily that night, endures a tragedy of her own, and instantly becomes the sole support of her four young children, while her own future hangs in the balance.

Bill, Lily’s father, has pinned all his hopes on his only daughter, his dreams now shattered.

Other lives will entwine themselves with theirs: Joe, a financial manager, faces a ruined career at the hand of a dishonest partner. Carole, a psychologist at Mass General, is a breast cancer survivor, her body and heart scarred by what she’s been through. Teddy, with a spinal cord injury worse than Lily’s, dreams of college and becoming an artist.

From the ashes of their lives, six people fight to alter the course of destiny and refuse to be defeated. When Bill builds a remarkable rehab facility for his daughter, countless lives are forever altered, and each becomes a winner.

Winners is about refusing to be beaten, no matter how insurmountable the challenge. And when Lily gets on skis again and enters the Paralympics, the battle to brave life again is won.

Winners is about more than surviving, it is about courage, victory, and triumph. When all appears to be lost, the battle has just begun.