Suzan Colon's Blog, page 4

Do-It-Yourself Exorcism!

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"I'm telling you, get rid of those old magazines or you'll never sell your novel!"

Why spend time and money hiring pricey clergy to banish evil spirits from your home when you can do it yourself? All you need is a few hours and a desire to move on in your life.

Okay, here's where I tell a little life story that will make sense of my humorous intro. We have a small room that we use as an office (essential as yours truly runs this mini-empire from home), but it has limited storage space. Back when I was newly freelance [read: had just been laid off], I kept lots of copies of the magazines I was writing for as reference. I couldn't put them on the desk anymore, so I used a shelf in our linen closet.

Time sauntered on, as it will when it's feeling sassy, and the work I did with these magazines fell away, replaced by a book and other kinds of work–including taking care of the house. Every time I went to get fresh towels or bedsheets, I'd see the old magazines, and somewhere in my head was a thought: I don't work for them anymore (sigh).

Keeping around old things we don't use and that make us feel bad was the subject of SHED Your Stuff, Change Your Life, a book by organizer extraordinaire Julie Morgenstern. She wrote about keeping things from a previous vocation, and how, when she finally got rid of it, her new career began. I remembered this one day when getting a clean washcloth. I saw the old magazines, the pile for reference that hadn't been referenced in three years. In fact, the only reference it had was to the past–one I wanted to move on from.

Oh, the hours of fun I had going through those mags, tearing out articles I'd written and photos of cute hairstyles, and then recycling them. What took their place in the linen closet? Copies of my books, with space for more.

Now, I am rather airy-fairy and I do believe in this stuff, and if you don't, toutes fines. But witnesseth: Since my purge, I have officially signed with a rock star fiction agent, and a few amazing work opportunities have popped up.

So look around you. (Yes, right now.) If you see anything–photos of exes, notes with stern admonishments about losing weight instead of encouragement, books with titles implying you're a dummy–that gives you the icks, it may be creating bad juju that keeps you from moving on. Get rid of it. (Yes, right now.) Recycle and donate where you can, because one person's demon is another person's treasure. But exorcise those demons, and be reborn.

Hallelujah,

S

The Case for Pleasure

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The Hubbins watches PBS Newshour every night, which details what's going on in the nation and the world. And the news is never good. Lately, it's been so bad I expect to see a small fuzzy chick delivering the headline, "The sky started falling today, with more pieces expected to crumble tomorrow."

I'm not one to turn a blind eye to trouble–I donate to causes that are effective in relieving the suffering of humans, animals, and the environment, and I try to help where, and how, I can. But after that, I'm responsible for finding a way to be positive so my sadness doesn't add more suffering. With everything that's been going on since this recession began, I think maybe we've forgotten about a simple concept: pleasure.

Ooh; that almost sounds like a dirty word. Or maybe just a frivolous one. But I think pleasure is necessary, perhaps now more than ever, because there is so much sadness and trouble in the world. Part of doing what we can to help each other is maintaining a positive attitude and knowing that it's okay to seek a little pleasure in life. It feeds the soul, and that helps (OMG I'm getting so new-age sappy right now) us bolster each other.

The word "pleasure" has been tarnished by an association with guilt. (Unless you're talking about watching The Jersey Shore, in which case please go right ahead and feel guilty.) I say we take the guilt out of the pursuit of pleasure. If it's been too long since you've allowed yourself anything other than cookies chased by remorse, I have two suggestions for you.

First, read this great article by my friend and former Cosmopolitan Magazine colleague Michelle Stacey. She interviewed Paul Rozin, a professor of psychology at the University of Pennsylvania, who has made the study of pleasure (particularly the joy derived from eating; my man!!) his life's work. Read it, love it, eat crusty bread and enjoy it.

Second: Get yourself a book. Not a bummer book; a summer book. One of the reasons I started writing romantic fiction was because I needed to turn my mood ring from bleak black to joyful blue. What better way that with a good ol' fashioned love story? I found a great one yesterday: French Lessons by Ellen Sussman. I heart this book major and am savoring it slowly. What a delicious summer read–and one that I'll enjoy again in fall, and winter, and whenever I need artful writing and compelling characters. (Which is always.)

My point: The pursuit of a little pleasure in this life of ours is not a crime, nothing to feel guilty about, and in fact is completely necessary right now. I find my pleasure in a nice meal and a good book. How about you?

xx,

S

Mwah! The Case for Gushy Fan Mail

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Every day I get an e-newsletter called Cynopsis, which is a genius look at what's going on in the wild world of TV production. Most of it is beyond me and I don't always have time to read it all, but one day a small item grabbed my eyes: The first-ever vegan cooking show was coming to TV this fall.

The item was about Laura Theodore, aka The Jazzy Vegetarian, who combined two seemingly disparate interests–her jazz singing career and her love of vegan cooking–into a whole mini-empire of cookbooks, CDs, a great website with recipes and music, a radio show, and now a TV show.

I loved Laura's philosophy of better living through healthy eating and green living, so I decided right then n' there–because these days, if I don't do something immediately, I forget–to write and congratulate her on the Jazzy Vegetarian TV coup. I didn't want anything out of it; I was just really happy for her.

Well, Ms. JV wrote me back, a small e-lovefest ensued, and today I'm going to be a guest on her radio show. Not only that, but two veganized versions of recipes from Cherries in Winter will be posted on Laura's recipes page.

Long blog short, I love writing fan emails. It's how I got to do a bookstore Q&A with another vegoddess, Isa Chandra Moskowitz, author of many amazing vegan cookbooks, and how I have a chic pen pal in the South of France–Elizabeth Bard, author of Lunch in Paris. I've even gotten a few of these emails myself, from incredibly sweet people who took the time to tell me that Cherries got them through a difficult time in their lives. I can't adequately explain how much that means to me.

Nana taught me the power of the big-kiss-I-heart-you-major fan email, and though the method has changed from her lovely script on paper to my weird word stringings in e-mail, the sentiment is the same. It only takes a moment to tell someone that their work is meaningful to you, but that moment can make someone's day.

xx,

S

Into Thin Hair

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Whenever someone asked my Nana how she was doing, she'd always answer, "Fabulous! Never better," whether that was true or not. (She didn't see the point in venting; she never would have been a reality TV star.) It's a great response, and, I'd thought, an even better title for a book about aging.

Only problem: So far, I don't like aging. I think it sucks. And since Nora Ephron already wrote about feeling bad about her neck, I decided to boil the years and thousands of words it would take me to write a book about aging down to two lines: The good thing about aging is getting your head together. The bad thing is that, by the time you've got your head together, everything else is falling apart.

Ba-dum-bum. Thank you, ladies n' gennlemen, and I'll be in the Poconos this weekend. Please be kind to your waitress. And speaking of getting your head together, one of the suckiest things about getting older is watching your hair get thinner. And when I say "your," I mean "my."

I've always had a ton of hair. I've made stylists break out in a sweat just by trying to blowdry my hair straight. My mother used to spend hours trying to detangle my tangled mass of waves. No mas, chicas. While I still have a lot of hair, some of looks like it's been on a diet.

Brief scientific explanation: As you get older, your hormones change; your hair follicles get smaller, so your hair gets thinner. Brief scientific theory (Mom's): "As you get older, your best childbearing years are behind you; Mother Nature gives you a mustache, thins your hair, stoops you over, and generally makes you look like hell so males of the species will procreate with females of child-bearing age, and not you. Mother Nature is a bitch." Mom should be on Nova.

I'm not trying to lure the likes of Tom Hardy away from some pretty young thing; I'm not lying about my age. I'm even letting my hair go grey, for goodness' sake. I just want to keep what I have the way I've always had it. So, it was time to call in a pro.

To be continued . . .

Books That Make Me Feel Like Wonder Woman, Part 1

Whether you're a writer or a gardener, a veterinarian or a web mistress, you have days when you feel like Wonder Woman . . . And then you have days when your tiara's missing and your bracelets aren't deflecting those bummer-inducing bullets the way they should.

As a writer, I seek help from other writers–specifically, from writers in written form. I have a toolbox of books that never fail to pull me out of the proverbial gutter and get me back in the game. If you need a pocket cheerleader, maybe some of these recommendations can help. They're not listed in order of favorites as the top slot changes depending on my needs, but the first one I want to list is…

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On Writing by Stephen King

A meditation on writing is all the more compelling when it's told as an autobiography; well, when we're reading about King, anyway. The legendary master of horror and all-around great writer is a compelling enough character that what you came for–writing advice–is a sort of tangent as King tells stories from his life. And they're good stories. Now you'll know where he got all those crazy ideas about possessed laundry machines and rabid dogs.

In addition to his invaluable recommendations about writing (turn off the TV; "How many repeats do you really need to see?"), King gives readers something extra: incredible amounts of encouragement. Seldom is heard a discouraging word in On Writing, which isn't the case in some other "This is how I approach my craft [

Stay tuned for more recommendations of books that can have you flying like you own an invisible plane. And if you've got a list, send it to me in the Comments section!

xx,

S

Chocolate and Charity!

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Rescue Chocolate's resident mascot, Mocha. Cutie!

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Charity never tasted so good.

This is one of the best ideas I've ever heard of, and it combines two of my great loves. Rescue Chocolate is a chocolate company whose proceeds go to animal shelters across the country.

I mean, need I say more? I cannot wait to sample their Peanut Butter Pit Bull and Pick Me! Pepper chocolates! Now, instead of feeling guilty when I eat chocolate, I can feel good. Not only will I be supporting animal rescue organizations while I indulge, but all of Rescue Chocolate's products are vegan, kosher, green, and just about every other good thing you can think of.

Major props to Sarah Gross, her dog Mocha, and all the people who make Rescue Chocolate happen!

Under Reconstruction!

Hi all!

I'm back after a brief absence to do a little writing, reviewing, and reconstruction–both on this site, my career, and, interestingly, myself.

First off: Many, many thanks to those of you who've written to tell me you read Cherries in Winter. Your words are what keep me going, so thank you beyond thank yous!!

Next: The reconstruction, which I've also heard called "a reinvention" and "a mid-life crisis." You'll notice a few changes on the site (including that VERY flattering photo of me on the home page, which was taken by The Hubbins!). These changes are going to reflect the next stage of what's going on with me, which is writing fiction. I think I said everything I had to say about myself and my family in Cherries, for now, anyway, and most of my writing has been good ol' fashioned made-up stuff (with the exception of an essay in Whole Living Magazine's June issue–big thanks to my editor, Geraldine Sealey!). I'll keep you posted as to what's going on with my novel, which was just completed–WOO HOO!!–the other day.

Also under construction is, ahem, moi. No, I'm not getting new boobs to go with that sexy blowout in the photo. I've just reached that "special" time in life where my body and my mind can't agree on my level of maturity. Hijinx have ensued. I'll be blogging about some of those developments, and what I intend to do about them (most plans involve kicking and screaming).

That's it, and enough, for now. Many thanks for visiting, and see you soon!

xx,

S

Happy Mother's Day!

Mother's Day has always been special to me. I was raised mostly by my mother, as well as my grandparents, and Mom, Nana, and I were inseparably close. Of course, that's a temporary situation; ultimately, we're all separated for a while, until we're reunited in some other place, at some other time. After my grandmother passed away, I valued my already-priceless mother even more.

I'd always wanted to tell Mom what she and Nana meant to me, and while it took me forty-something years of well-meaning cards that missed the Hallmark, I think the mission was accomplished when I wrote Cherries in Winter.

That's why Mother's Day is the perfect day for me to close this blog and say goodbye for now. The book came out in November of 2009, right as the economy was hitting a low we hadn't seen for decades. Since then I've been the smiling, teary-eyed recipient of letters, cards, and emails telling me how much the book has meant to people who either have been or are currently going through challenges that could break their spirits–but hasn't. Their lovely messages usually end with, "I'm going to give the book to my Mom." You cannot know how much this has meant to me, and to my mother.

While I won't be posting any further blogs, I will respond to emails sent through this website. And in case you're wondering, my next act will be writing fiction, though probably under a different name (my Nana's nom de plume!).

With all my heart, I thank you for reading the stories about my family in Cherries, and for sharing your stories with me.

My best wishes to you and your families,

Suzan

Special Mother's Day Offer!

Around the time of my last book signing, Cherries readers in other states asked if they could get autographed copies shipped to them to give as gifts. Well, the answer to that is now yes, you can!

This year, Mother's Day is May 8. I'm doing a special promotion from now until April 25, 2011–buy a copy of Cherries in Winter as a gift for your mother, sister, aunt, best friend, coworker with a new baby, or even yourself! I'll autograph it, tuck a free Cherries in Winter recipe card/bookmark into the book, and ship it off to the recipient in time for Mother's Day!

Here's what you do:

1. Go to Amazon.com and order a copy of Cherries in Winter. (The paperback is a super-inexpensive $10.17!) Note: Don't add any other books you're buying; this order is coming to me.

2. On the order page, check the box on the left that says, "This will be a gift." Then click "Proceed to checkout."

3. Enter this shipping address:

Suzan Colon LLC

P. O. Box 13157

Jersey City, NJ 07303

And click "Ship to this address."

4. The next page is for Gift Wrap and Free Gift Message. Leave "Don't gift-wrap this item" checked and do not check gift wrap, or I'll have to tear it open to sign the book. In the "Free gift note" box, write the name of the person you'd like me to inscribe the book to, and the address where the book is to be sent. If the book is going to you, include your full name and address. (Example: "Please inscribe the book to my mother Carolyn, and ship to S. Colon, P. O. Box 13157, Jersey City, NJ 07303.")

5. Continue to payment pages until Amazon tells you your order has been shipped. Then email me at suzan@suzancolon.net to let me know that your book is coming my way. Please include the name of the recipient and where the book should be shipped in this email. Once I receive the book, I'll inscribe it, include the bookmark, and send it off–at no extra shipping cost to you! (Please note: Books must be shipped and email notifications must be received by April 25, 2011. Emailed notifications of books shipped after April 25, 2011 are not guaranteed to arrive in time for Mother's Day.)

I wrote Cherries for all the mothers and grandmothers who've kept their families going. Since then, many Cherries fans have shared the book with their mothers, grandmothers, sisters, book groups, and friends, and now you can make that gift a little extra special.

Many thanks to all of you, and happy Mother's Day!

Have Black Eyed Peas Over for Dinner! (Um…the other kind of peas.)

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If you're anything like me, the New Year's Resolutions you made last month are now sitting on the couch next to you, hogging the remote and eating all your pita chips. (You did see that I gave away my luxe Moleskine exercise journal on my Facebook page, didn't you? I sure wasn't using it, so I thought one of you might like it. Congratulations, Ang!)

In a past life, I may have been more diligent. And in a past blog, I mentioned that I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions; I do Now Year's Resolutions, which means I can rekindle my reinvention any day of the year. Today? Sure. December 29? Fine! No time like the present when you want to do something good for yourself.

If you'd like a do-over of New Year's so you can be more resolute in your resolutions, here's a fabulous New Year's dinner from Cherries reader Pamela Murray, along with her story. I love guest chefs on the blog; takes SO much pressure off me. Thanks, Pamela, for this great New Year's feast in February!

Pamela writes:

I grew up in the South but am third generation Chinese, thus the rice accompaniment. The tradition is to eat collard greens to symbolize bringing you dollars in the new year. The black eyed peas bring you cents. I eat both. These seem very simple and plain but if you try them you'll see how good simple food is. The greens are very nutritious, as are the peas. Even though there is pork in both, given the amount of good stuff, the bad is small in terms of quantity.

You can substitute pork chops, ribs, or country ribs, but the baby back ribs are best in my opinion since they have the most bones which give so much flavor. Both of these recipes make large quantities, so make sure you invite plenty of hungry people.

I read Cherries in Winter at a time that I really needed a lift. It was so comforting and warm–just like a warm blanket in the dead of winter.

A big fan of Cherries in Winter,

Pamela Murray

Collard Greens

Strip leaves from 1 large bunch of collard greens. (Discard the stems or save for a vegetable stock.) Wash very well in a sink full of water as you would wash spinach. Roughly chop the greens.

Cut a half rack of baby rack ribs and brown in a very large pot. Add greens to the pot as much as you can each time. It may take 3 or 4 times to get them all in the pot. Add some water each time, about a cup at a time. The greens will cook down so you can add subsequent amounts. You'll want as much liquid as possible as this will become the pot liquor.

Add salt and pepper to taste (about 1 tsp. salt, ½ tsp. pepper). Cook until greens are tender, about an hour if you like them soft; less if you want a little crunch.

I like to eat these with rice to soak up the pot liquor and to accompany the black eyed peas. Some people like a few dashes of vinegar. Try it to see if you do; I like mine plain.

Black-eyed Peas

Wash and sort through one 1-lb. bag of dried black eyed peas, discarding any small stones. Soak peas overnight, or all day if you're cooking them for dinner. Drain and rinse.

Cut up 3 slices bacon and fry in a large pot. (Reserve and crumble over the peas to serve, or just leave the bacon in the pot.) Dice 1 onion and sauté in the bacon drippings along with 1 clove of minced garlic. Add peas and cover with water.

Add salt and pepper to taste (about 1 tsp. salt, ½ tsp. pepper). Cook until peas are soft, about an hour. Serve over rice. For a little kick, add chili paste or cayenne pepper.

[Yummy photo by Monika Dabrowski on Flickr.com.]