Nancy Davidoff Kelton's Blog, page 12

21 Great Things about This Summer and A Contest for You

Finding my old white cotton slacksFitting into themWatching the pianist at Washington Square playing his baby grandTwo days in Canandaigua at a pool by the lake, two nights of huge ice cream conesTons of mail fromFINDING MR. RIGHTSTEINreadersSelling every copy at my Talking Leaves Books readingEating Ted’s hot dogs after with my Buffalo friendsAnd roast beef on kimmelweck for my other mealsMy Just Buffalo Literary Center workshop—the attendees wrote so wellMy Buffalo and Erie County Library talk on memoir writingThe woman in the first row who laughed. And laughed. And laughedThe support of my Buffalo peopleThe love of my familyMy California visitThe dinner my daughter and son-in-law made the first night and our shared laughterOur laughter at every meal and in betweenEvery moment with them and with my grandchildren at the pool, the beach, the farmers  market, everywhereOur snuggles and hugsSo much funSo much good foodAnd still fitting into my old white cotton slacks.Contest:  In 50 words or less, write about something great that you’ve experienced this summer.  Enter it on the ‘Contact’ page on my website: www.nancykelton.com   by July 26Buffalo News Life & Arts Section Article "Nancy Davidoff Kelton, author of FINDING MR RIGHTSTEIN on How to Write From the Heart"Link to Article

Home again, home again: my op-ed piece in The Buffalo News published the week before my FINDING MR. RIGHTSTEIN hometown launch

MY FRIEND, CINDY

InFINDING MR. RIGHTSTEIN, I call her Louise.  In life, I call her a true friend.When we were 12, Cindy invited me to her house after school.  I was thrilled. She was—still is—so cool. Upon meeting me, her on-the-phone mother, told her friend to hold, and said, “Nancy, why don’t you stay for dinner?”I stayed.  I’ve been on the American plan at Cindy’s ever since.Cindy’s mother baked every day. Her house was filled with great smells, great desserts, and me at the kitchen table.  My house was filled with books.  It became Cindy’s lending library. “What should I take, Mr. D?” she’d ask my father, looking through the shelves. They discussed whatever they read.Cindy and I discussed everything.  At each other’s houses and on the phone every night.I didn’t have a Sweet Sixteen.  For my 17th birthday, she and her mother made me a surprise birthday luncheon. After an operation my mother had, Cindy and her mother were the first to come over with a gift.When Cindy did not get the hang of geometry or the hang, as I did, of cheating, I gave her the name of a math tutor a relative used.“Cindy knows just enough math to get by,” my father said, “but she knows what’s really important.”The noisy car she drove in high school had a dropped muffler among other problems including brakes that didn’t work.  She didn’t come to a full stop. When she’d pick me up for school or to go anywhere, I’d hear her chugging down Covington Avenue. She’d honk when she’d get close. I’d run out, jump in, and we’d laugh.We moved to NYC the same year.  When she got divorced, I plied her with Brandy Alexanders.  We rolled around my living room floor.  Drunk.  When I got divorced, we already had kids.  She called every morning between 7:00-7:30 to get me up, to make sure I was alive and to let me cry.And to let me discuss what I thought went wrong. “Stop,” she’d say. “That wasn’t the problem.  The problem was he didn’t get how special you are.”  It was the most loving thing a loving friend could say.Whenever we go out to eat, we split two things.  “That’s gross,” said one of our daughters one time when Cindy and I shared 2 dishes that didn’t at all go together.Last week, she came early to Shakespeare & Co. to myFINDING MR. RIGHTSTEINevent even though she had a prior commitment that night.  She’s shown up early for readings for all my books, pre-ordered the books, repeatedly told me how terrific they are, and bought tons more for friends.When my father died, she called me every morning again between 7:00-7:30.  When my mother died, she flew to Buffalo for the funeral, came with my family after to Anderson’s (yes, Andersons), and flew home.Since we were 12, Cindy’s been Showing Up. “She knows just enough math to get by,” my father said, “but she know what’s REALLY IMPORTANT.”Indeed.There are many things I may never have in my lifetime.  A true friend isn’t one.

NYC JUNE BOOK LAUNCH

Thank you, everyone who helped make my June 8 NYCFINDING Mr. RIGHTSTEINlaunch at Fishs Eddy such fun!Photo by Diane SmookMy next two NYC events are different:June 15 -Shakespeare & Co. Bookstore-939 Lexington Avenue -7-8:30:  a Q&A on memoir and humor writing with Judy Hannan.June 21- NYU Bookstore-726 Broadway from 6:00-7:30: a writing workshop._____________And if you are looking to work on your memoir and/or personal essays, check out the information and registration details for my  June 17 one-day workshop at the New School  on my website under   ‘Classes.’Photo by J Zich

Try to Remember

First, updates in italics:--I appreciate that you love my website and wrote to me in the ‘Contact’ session.--People asked about classes. My New School one-day workshop June 17 is brand new.  Go to ‘Classes’ on my website for registration information.--A FINDING MR. RIGHTSTEIN talk on June 29 at The Buffalo and Erie County Library—noon to 1:00--was just added. It’s listed under ‘Events.’--I’ll post here more frequently.  Much is happening.  I love it here.So whenTHE FANTASTICKS’press representative offered me tickets, I got 3 and took my favorite big and little guys to Saturday’s matinee.The little guy sat on his grandpa’s lap, enthralled for 45 minutes. Then we went to the restroom, explored the lobby and I suggested leaving. Nope. For the rest of Act 1, we moved around and tried out 4 other empty seats, one near the sound and light booth, another near the piano and harp players. During intermission, I again suggested leaving.The little guy, singing “Try to Remember,” wanted to stay, not just to talk to the harp player, which he did.  During Act 2, we moved to other empty seats.  Twice.  The big guy napped.Try to remember when life was so tenderAnd dreams were kept beside your pillow.

A New Site, a New Book, A New Look

My new very smart phone is enough of a change.   Change.  The cheese just moves and moves.My assistant, John, my former student, and my husband, Jonathan, who is not my ‘former’ anything, worked together, separately, and tirelessly designing this website.  Brava! Yay J and J!Fishs Eddy at 889 Broadway in NYC between 18 and 19th Streets has posters of myFINDING MR. RIGHTSTEINcover in the windows, at the entrance, and outside the door.  Step inside June 8 at 6:00 for a reading and talk.  I’ll get off the floor.On June 15 at 7:00, Judy Hannan and I will be at Shakespeare and Co. Bookstore at 939 Lexington Avenue, between 68 and 69th Streets.Feel free to leave a comment or write me on this website under the word ‘Contact.’  I’ll see you and talk to you soon.

My Very Smart Phone and My Little Green Friend

I bought a smart phone the other day. It is in the box it came in.  In the Apple bag.  I am not in a hurry to take it out.People have been telling me to ‘get with the program’ and upgrade.  I AM with the program. My program.  Happy with it, too.  My personal and creative lives are fine without new, improved technology.   But for a few reasons, I soon have to get on that faster-moving train.   For now though, don’t call, don’t text, don’t ask about my new smart phone.  It’s in the box in the bag.Last weekend when my favorite little guy came for a sleepover, my favorite big guy and I took him to City Treehouse, an indoor playground, where we all had a hoot once before.  The slide, water pond, stage (on which my favorite 3-year old on the planet performed a great show for us), toys, and kitchen occupied us for hours.  Last Saturday, when my guys disappeared to play hide-in-seek in the tree house, I was left in the pool of colored balls.I might still be there with my green dinosaur friend if I didn’t have to get out and upgrade.