Jen Lancaster's Blog, page 16

Coming Soon to a Town Near You (Maybe)

Here's the preliminary list of 2011 If You Were Here tour cities... TUESDAY, MAY 3 WASHINGTON, DC BARNES & NOBLE 555 12th St. NW 6:30 PM WEDNESDAY, MAY 4 RICHMOND, VA SAM MILLER'S RESTAURANT (The Boat Room) 1210 East Cary Street *Books sold by Fountain Bookstore 6:30 PM THURSDAY, MAY 5 ATLANTA, GA BARNES & NOBLE 2900 Peachtree Road NE 7:00 PM FRIDAY, MAY 6 DALLAS, TX BARNES & NOBLE 7700 West Northwest Hwy 7:00 PM SATURDAY, MAY 7 CHICAGO, IL BARNES & NOBLE 1441 West Webster Avenue 6:00 PM TUESDAY, MAY 10 NEW YORK, NY BARNES & NOBLE 33 East 17th Street 7:00 PM WEDNESDAY, MAY 11 PHILADELPHIA, PA BARNES & NOBLE 1805 Walnut Street 5:30 PM THURSDAY, MAY 12 PITTSBURGH, PA BARNES & NOBLE 100 West Bridge Street Homestead, PA 15120 7:00 PM FRIDAY, MAY 13 TBA TUESDAY, MAY 17 PHOENIX, AZ BARNES & NOBLE 21001 N. Tatum Blvd. 7:00 PM WEDNESDAY, MAY 18 SAN DIEGO, CA BARNES & NOBLE 10775 Westview Parkway 7:00 PM THURSDAY, MAY 19 PORTLAND, OR BARNES & NOBLE 12000 SE 82nd Avenue 7:00 PM FRIDAY, MAY 20 SEATTLE, WA THIRD PLACE BOOKS 17171 Bothell Way NE Lake Forest Park, WA 98155 6:30 PM WEDNESDAY, MAY 25 MILWAUKEE, WI BARNES & NOBLE 2500 N. Mayfair Rd Wauwatosa, WI 53226 7:00 PM Will post the details for the May 13th event after they're confirmed, so there's one more city to be named. Overall, I'm really happy to be hitting some new places this year and...

Scenes from a Snow Day

Have officially deemed today a snow day and plan to spend it on the good couch catching up on TiVoed episodes of The Cape, Off the Map, and Harry's Law. Banana cupcakes may or may not be involved. As I am clearly very busy today with important work, please tune in later this week for my list of fab winter book picks. (Sarah Pekkanen, Wade Rouse, I'm talking about you.) As for the dogs? They plan to spend the day defrosting. (My braying like a jackass is a bonus feature of this video.) (You're welcome.)

Hurricane Libby

This is how mornings go around here: 8:07 AM - Get out of bed when Libby begins to whine. Yes, it's always 8:07 AM and no, I have no clue how that damn dog can tell time. Doesn't matter how late we keep her up, she's ready and raring to go at 8:07 AM. Bought new blackout curtains and they haven't helped one iota, except they billow when the heat comes on and cats like to hide behind them, which only serves to drive Libby into chase mode. 8:08 AM - Throw on slippers and robe. 8:09 AM - Leave Libby in cage while rustling up bigger dogs who look at me as if to say, "What are we, farmers? Screw you and your 8:07 AM, lady." 8:10 AM - Wake up Fletch, who gives me the exact same reaction as the bigger dogs. Birds may or may not be flipped when covers are forcibly removed. 8:11 AM - Blind him by opening blackout curtains. 8:12 AM - Head down the hall, turning off the alarm while a parade of cats follows behind me, admonishing me for sleeping so damn late, asking, "What are we, vampires?" (At this point, everyone's hungry and simply choosing to repress their feelings on another evening of Tucker's late-night date rapery.) 8:13 AM - Feed cats. (Ha! If it were only that simple.) 8:13 AM - 'Feed cats' is a part of a multi-step process that means first segregating Thundercats in to laundry room, throwing...

Technically, It's Still Cooking with Angus

My internal monologue during tonight's dinner prep: "Okay, Chinese food night! Yay! Let's do this. I've got my wok ready - what else do I need? Thinking... thinking... okay, lemme grab the big container of pre-chopped stir-fry vegetables, which, yes, I admit is pretty lazy. But the alternative is simply ordering delivery, so I'm not going to go all Tiger-mother on myself. Slightly lazy is way better than totally lazy, right? Wait, don't answer that." "What else should I add? Hey, I've got some leftover onions and celery from the sauce I made for the short ribs yesterday. I'll cut those up so I don't feel like I'm cheating quite so much. Also, last night's dinner was completely from scratch so bonus points for me." "Hmm, how am I going to give this some flavor? Alrighty, I have Chinese Five spice, a fresh head of garlic to crush, and, ooh, what's in the jar? Hoisin sauce? I remember buying this although I can't recall why and I have no idea what it is. But it looks authentic, yes? Let's see... contains sugar, soy sauce, garlic, vinegar, chili paste. Hey, self, nice job buying mystery sauce in anticipation of your future dinner! I'm awarding myself more bonus points. This should go a long way in making Fletch forget those ill-conceived caramel apple pork chops last month." "Anyway, let's think Chinese food. You know, the one thing that bugs me about our usual Chinese joint is that every dish on the menu...

R.I.P.(ossum)

Let me begin by saying this is pretty much Fletch's fault. When we made the decision for him to quit his job back in April, it wasn't because he was working a job he hated for a soul-sucking corporation that was drawing every bit of joy out of his life, nor was it because the business end of writing had grown too tricky for me to manage myself. Mainly, I needed him around in case a possum were to die in the yard. And yet today when this very circumstance arose, he was in a classroom learning how to work QuickBooks. Which is why I can't be blamed for what happened next. I mean, he CHOSE to leave me home alone. He made the conscious decisions to put on his khakis, grease up his head with a liberal supply of hair product, and leave this morning with absolutely zero regard to whether or not I might need to bury a marsupial rodent marsupial. (Is it both? I'm not sure because the person I'd ask wasn't here today.) The story begins last week during lunch. Fletch and I were having the sandwiches that he brought home from Jimmy John's because a major component of his job is to make sure I don't eat nothing but Froot Loops and then have a sugar crash in the afternoon. Anyway, all of a sudden, Libby leapt to attention and began to glower at something beyond the sliding glass door. Unusual, because there's absolutely no...

Real, Real Simple

Fletch: "Hey, I was flipping through this month's Real Simple. Did you know that you're mentioned in it?" Me: "Um, yeah. That's why I bought it." Fletch: "Huh." Me: "Remember? That's why I told you I was buying it?" Fletch: "Really?" Me: "Really." Fletch: "Huh." Me: "And the last horse to cross the finish line is..." Fletch: "Flipping you off." * * * In other news, voting for tour cities is closed. Thank you all for your enthusiasm!! Votes have been tallied by the independent accounting firm of Price Waterhouse, to be revealed at the awards ceremony in the next few weeks. And by Price Waterhouse, I mean I spent the whole weekend making hashmarks on a spreadsheet before sending the list on to my publisher to make decisions. A quick word on how and why tour cities are chosen - my publishers have to find bookstores in potential cities that are large enough to accommodate a crowd and aren't already tied up with a different author's event. Then, they do their best to strike a balance between signings at the big chains and the indies. They also factor in the cities where you guys want me the most, cross-reference that with past sales and potential for media coverage, and come up with a game plan, giving equal weight to all these facets. If it were up to me, I'd most likely pick cities with a Four Seasons and an Admiral's Club at the airport. Which is why it's not...

Where Am I Going On Book Tour?

It's that time of year again! My publicist and I are putting together our list for If You Were Here tour cities. So please let me know in the comments section where you'd most prefer I go. Also, if you live in an area that's spread out (e.g. Chicago) then please be specific, like "Oak Brook" or "downtown" or "North Shore." (No need to post again if you told me your preference on Facebook. Thanks!) (BTW, south Florida, Pittsburgh, and Kansas City, please note I'm pulling for you.) And... go!

Maybe It's Not A Rerun If You Keep Getting Asked The Same Questions?

I just got a note from one of my author buddies who was looking for blurbs from friends to share with a class she's teaching on getting published. Considering my talking points led me to re-read something I wrote last year. As I looked over that post, I realized the advice was still timely. And as I get questions on how to become a writer all the time, I figured it might be time to dust off this old chestnut. (You know what? I just cringed as I wrote that last sentence. First piece of advice has to do with never writing about dusting chestnuts.) Anyway, this is from the 2010 post Move Over, Tucker Max. I hope those who seek writing advice might find it useful. * * * You know what? I try really hard not to be an asshole. Seriously, I do. I realize it's difficult to tell around here sometimes, but it's the truth. Yet sometimes... I... I just can't help myself. Today is one of those days. Following you'll find an email from Shelly. She sent me a number of questions which may have been appropriate if I were being interviewed by, say, a fifteen year old for her high school newspaper. But from what I can tell, this comes from someone who doesn't comprehend that one should spend more than the time it takes to look up an email address before asking a complete stranger for professional guidance, particularly one who will absolutely respond...

Show Me On The Doll Where The Bad Kitty Touched You

Have been trying to write a post for an hour about my elderly cat Tucker's new, um, proclivity, but I can't make it not sound twisted. Instead, please enjoy this shot of Maisy and Libby. Fletch wanted me to come up with a clever narrative so I could write off today's $352 vet bill but I've got nothing that doesn't include the term "newly date rape-y" or refer to Tucker as the creepy old man down the street who lets his robe flap open in front of kids. Let me just say this - if my (perfectly healthy) cat tries to lure you into his panel van to see his new puppy, don't get in.

Perhaps You Can't Hear Me Over The Sound Of My Eyes Rolling

The Chicago Tribune posted my new column. You can read it here. Let's just say this column has not been embraced by some readers who, if hurling personal insults is any indication, most likely received copies of Rules for Radicals for Christmas. Seriously, check out the comments section; it's priceless. I love the person who says I'm an "irresponsible journalist." That may go on my business card. Anyway, for my fans, hope you enjoy the piece. I had fun writing it. For you nay-sayers who've come here to find my email address to berate me for being stupid, naive, or simply a terrible American who in no way speaks for you, I invite you to do better. No, really. Please, write your own take on this subject. Here are the rules: First, remember this is a humor column, not a news story. Facts take a backseat to funny. Make the topic of leaking classified documents both accessible and relatable to all newspaper readers both in print and online, including everyone in each demographic from soccer moms to retirees. Personalize said topic of leaking classified documents, bringing in examples from your own life. Then, using creative word-play, express your thoughts in such a way that has the potential to inspire anyone who isn't completely devoid of a sense of humor to crack a smile over a plate of waffles while reading at the breakfast table. Of course, you'll want to use short sentences and please save your SAT words for Lexulous....