Libby Cudmore's Blog, page 3

True Confessions: Billy Joel Edition

I’ve had more than one person confront me on my deep loathing of Billy Joel since the publication of The Big Rewind and a series of tweets decrying the fact that “Only The Good Die Young” is a serious neg and terrible song in it’s own right.  But I value you, dear readers, and so I feel that it’s time to come clean with this black mark on my soul.

You want to know why I hate Billy Joel?  Because I used to fucking love Billy Joel.

Billy Joel was my first concert, the Carrier Dome in Syracuse, 1998.  I went with my boyfriend Aaron and his dad, because I was 15 at the time.  It was a great show.  He’s phenomenal live, with an energy that just can’t be captured in the studio.  I was heartbroken when I had to miss him in Albany because our school’s production of Anything Goes was that weekend (don’t worry, Aaron went without me!)

But as I got more into artists like Tom Waits and The Smiths, I began to realize what a fucking cornball Billy Joel was.  And as developed a deeper appreciation for the lyrical wordplay and the musical genius of Warren Zevon and Steely Dan, I started to see that Billy Joel was a hack, a rip-off artist of the highest caliber.  It’s one thing to pay homage to someone who inspired you–it’s another thing to water down their songs to make them palatable for khaki-wearing middle managers to listen to on their way to Lowes to look at, (but not buy!) doorknobs for home improvement projects they will never actually get around to doing.

Songs like “I Go To Extremes,” and “Prelude/Angry Young Man” that once seemed deep and evocative of what I was feeling as a frustrated teenager suddenly sounded heavy-handed and whiny.  And how was I supposed to take a lyric like “It’s a bad waste, a sad case, a rat race/It’s breaking me” from “Running On Ice” seriously when it was being sung by Billy Joel, who banged supermodels and had a yacht?  His “poor me, I’m just a normal guy like you, workin’ for a living and barely making my rent” shtick was as transparent as a Macy’s Christmas windowpane, especially when my world was now filled with the sounds of “Heart Attack and Vine” and “Sentimental Hygiene,” songs that has the same world-is-a-mess sentiment as “Running On Ice,” yet didn’t feel like something out of a sophomore poetry class.

(And don’t get me started on “Piano Man.”  I’ve always hated “Piano Man.”  “Piano Man” is the worst fucking song in the whole universe, worse than “Margaritaville,” worse than “Firework,” worse than “Achy Breaky Heart.”  The fact that radio stations are allowed to play “Piano Man” has got to be violating some sort of convention against torture, and I have been known to put down items I intend to purchase and walk out of a store because “Piano Man” comes over the loudspeaker.)

But then, as the final nail in the coffin, Aaron and I broke up, and I broke up with Billy Joel too.  Our song was “And So It Goes,” off of Storm Front (sample lyric: “And so it goes/and so it goes/and so will you soon/I suppose.”) so in retrospect, he probably should have seen that coming.

Billy Joel knows how to craft a hook and he’s a competent lyricist.  I’ll go to bat for “Allentown” any day of the week.  I still think the live version of “Summer Highland Falls” is raw and beautiful.  And I’ll bet that I could still sing any Billy Joel song that came on the radio without missing a single lyric.  I don’t want to hate Billy Joel, he never did anything to me personally, but the more I hear him, the more annoying he gets.

If you love Billy Joel, awesome.  I mean that.  His music meant a lot to me for a time, and I’m sure it means a lot to you too.  But if you put on “Piano Man,” you can’t be surprised when I walk out of your living room and never speak to you again.  You’ve been warned.

Mix Tape Monday: Worst Song On A Mix?

Welcome back to Mix Tape Monday, the blog series that doesn’t care that no one owns a boombox anymore.  Last week, while setting my radio alarm, I heard Billy Joel’s “Only The Good Die Young.”  And it suddenly occurred to me EXACTLY how much of a dick Billy Joel was being to this girl.  Virginia has clearly said no to the sex, (which, given that it’s Billy Joel, is probably a good plan) and instead of being like “well, okay, I respect your decision to do what you feel is right with your body,” he proceeds to insult her by shaming her faith.  “Don’t let me wait/you Catholic girls start much too late/sooner or later it comes down to fate/I might as well be the one.”

I seriously fucking hate this guy.

Translation: Your needs and values are meaningless because I want sex, and eventually you’re going to give it up to someone, so you might as well fuck me.  There’s no mention of love, or even that they’re dating.  He wants to bone her, she said no, and he’s negging on her.  This is not a romantic song, and Billy Joel has once again shown that he is a horndog douche.

I tweeted this, and my friend Emily replied that a boy had actually put this on a mix for her, despite her not even being Catholic.  He used a mix tape for evil!  That’s just wrong.

So I ask…what was the worst song anyone has ever put on a mix for you?  Bad in sound or intention or both?

I’ve got a few.  My ex, Aaron, put Third Eye Blind’s “Jumper” on the one and only mix he ever made me, his logic being “well, you’re like, sad all the time.”  Aww, how sweet…?  Aaron was good at many things, like video games and being emotionally witholding, but mix tapes were not his strength.

Another guy, Raphael, who was the last person to make me an actual tape, put “Rent” from the musical Rent as the opening number.  (I think “What You Own” was on there as well).  He was very deep, you see, and he showed this by stalking me, threatening suicide on more than one 4 a.m. phone call and telling everyone that not only had we dated (we did not), but he dumped me because I was too needy.  He later became a professional poker player, although his last game appears to have been played in 2010.  I think this was the start of my deep, seething hatred for Rent, although I’ll confess I still have a weird, late-90s art-girl soft-spot for “What You Own.”  I’m pretty sure I taped over his mix, which is a a fantastic fuck you on it’s own, with the Goo Goo Dolls Dizzy Up The Girl, adding insult to injury.

The last one is actually a great song on one of the best mixes anyone has ever made me, Sonata Arctica’s “Shamandalie” from She Doesn’t Think My Tractor’s Sexy Anymore, the second volume in Jason’s Down With Love trilogy.  It’s a phenomenal song that really got me into the band, but it is ultimately a break-up song, and coming at the end of a mix that also included Cracker’s “I Want Everything,” and “All For Love” by Sting, Bryan Adams and Rod Stewart, seemed a touch out of place.  Years later, when we actually did break up, I looked back on this song as though it had predicted our end and used fate as a justification for not contacting him.

But when we finally did get back in touch and talking about the secret language of mixes, I asked him about it.  And he told me that he couldn’t remember why he picked that song, but in retrospect, it was probably not the place for it, and we had a good laugh.  Things are fun when they’re fun.

Got a bad mix memory?  A good intention, but a bad call?  Add yours in the comments below, or tweet them to me @libbycudmore with the hashtag #WorstMixEver.  

Mixtape Monday: The Crush Mix

Welcome back to Mix Tape Monday, the blog series that celebrates all things mix-related.  Today we’re talking about the whole reason Mix Tapes were invented–The Crush Mix.

You know the drill.  You’re so head-over-heels in love with someone that every song you hear reminds you of them.  You savor the music that played on the radio when they happened to glance your way, convinced it was destiny that that song came on at that exact moment. But you don’t know if they’re feeling the same, so you test the waters with a tape that could be plutonic…but really, your heart is bleeding through every single lyric. The Crush Mix is meant to be listened to on headphones, alone and in one go, so plan your lyrics and transitions accordingly.  Sound clips are not advised here.

There are two types of Crush Mixes–the hopeful and the unrequited.  Today, we’ll be looking at the first, using a mix I titled Songs For Your Future Front Office (2005).  I’m not going to tell you who I made it for, but if you’re out there, Darling Recipient, feel free to identify yourself.  Obviously, this one went unrequited, but it was still fun to make, and I still think fondly of the recipient.  Let’s get started!

So, Love, Maybe?

I believe in upfront honesty when it comes to mix tapes, but you also don’t want to blow your load on the first song. So you make it something fun and maybe a little flirty. It’s a call to action, but you want it to be a good enough song on it’s own merits so that you don’t show your whole hand.  Because I’m me, I opened with The Smiths’ “Is It Really So Strange?” for the lyrics, “You won’t change the way I feel/because I love you/Is it really so strange?”

Lower His Defenses

After the first shots are fired, you want to bring things down a little.  This is a good place to introduce some not-necessarily-romantic tunes, songs you can claim you added because “I thought you’d dig this band.”  Songs that reference movies or other things that he likes (I went with Fluke’s “Absurd” because we saw Sin City together) will help fill out this section.  Keep it to 2-3 songs, max.  Don’t want this to turn into a LISTEN TO THIS OR YOUR LIFE IS MEANINGLESS mix.

Precious Moments

I remember hearing Depeche Mode’s “It’s No Good” for the first time in My Crush’s car, so onto the mix it went.  You don’t want to announce that you’ve been hording this song for weeks, that’ll make you sound like a stalker.  This is subconscious.  He’ll know, and if he’s gotten this far, he’ll be flattered.

Wanna Make Out?

This is where you can get sexxxy.  Slow things down a bit.  Play your cards right and this might be your official make-out song.  I went with The Police, “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” because I am a bad person.  It made him laugh, anyways.

Hello, You Fool, I Love You

This is a 2-3 song set of songs about falling in love.  Tell him how he makes you feel–gooey, dizzy, sweet, shy, show him what he does to you.  I generally feel like a giant dope when I fall  in love, so songs like the Magnetic Fields, “I’m Tongue-Tied” or the Long Winters’ “Pushover” went on this mix.

The Kicker

We talked about The Kicker in a previous installment, but here, it has a different purpose.  This is the moment where your true feelings come out.  No bullshit, just pure, unadulterated adoration.  This is the moment where it all comes together.  He’s listened this far,  it’s time you told him how you feel.  On Songs For Your Future Front Office, my kicker was Sting’s “Be Still My Beating Heart”

Pen in Hand

I carried two bags to school every day.  One was my backpack, which was adorned with keychains and patches because it was 2000 and that’s what we did back then, and the other was this awesome white leather messenger bag, the coolness factor of which can never be replicated.

In this messenger bag was everything I needed to write my novel–notebooks, printed pages, pens.  I wrote in math class, during study hall, lunch.  My whole world was consumed with my writing.

So when I was accepted to the Pen in Hand writer’s conference in Little Falls, I couldn’t believe how fucking lucky I was.  Finally, my writing was being taken seriously!  For 24 hours, I would be surrounded by other writers.  I would get to meet authors and they would talk to me!  It was everything I’d hoped for and more.  I made friends there that I still have today.  It’s where I first drank coffee.  It was better than my prom.

So after I published The Big Rewind, I looked back on Pen in Hand and realized what an impact it had on my view of myself as writer.  And I was happy to see that it was in it’s 20th year.  And happier still when I was able to get in touch with Diane Wager, who not only remembered me as a student (right down to the black lace fingerless gloves I wore upon my arrival!) but invited me to come back and mentor.

Everything, right down to the food they served, was the same, but in the best way, like coming home.  A familiar shyness settled in for a moment — will they like me?  Will I make any friends? But a cup of hotel coffee later, I was feeling a little braver, and sat down for my first workshop.

What struck me about these kids was how passionate they were.  They were there to learn, sure, but more importantly, there were there to be writers.  And sure, I could have worked them to death on sentence structure and plot devices, but my approach was this.:

Let them be writers.

I wanted them to feel the same magic I felt when I was there.  To know that my work was valued, rather than picked apart.  These kids have their whole lives to have their work nitpicked, their characters dissected, their plots shredded.  But by my logic, if they nurtured that magic, that love of craft would help them continue to push forward even when the haters, as the kids say, tried to get them down.

Each kid who read got to hold Valerie, our workshop mascot, and she got tossed around the table like a little football.  I let them thumb through Lucca and Dutch, and at lunch, set up a little table where they could cut up magazines to decorate their own notebook pages.  I gave them prompts and paper to write on.  I gave them the kind of workshop I would want to be in — on that celebrates the spirit of writing.

For me, it was about giving back.  It has always been my policy, as a writer, to share what I have learned.  Diane and the authors at Pen in Hand were the first people (outside of my family, obviously) to really believe in me as a writer.  Diane and the staff helped set me on the path that produced The Big Rewind, and I couldn’t think of a better way to thank her for that gift than helping nurture the next generation of writers.

And at the end of the workshop, I asked all of them to sign my anthology as a memento.  It’s sitting on my coffee table as I write this.  I don’t know how many of them will continue on their writing careers, but I was honored to be a part of all of them.

 

Mix Tape Monday: The Apology Mix

There’s a lot more to making a mix than just throwing a bunch of songs onto a Spotify playlist or a CD.  It’s about creating a mood or emphasizing an emotion, playing to a theme or singing what you can’t speak aloud.  You don’t make someone a mix unless they’re really important.

So I have a new feature here on the blog–MIX TAPE MONDAY.  I’ll dissect mixes I’ve made for other people, and maybe even a few people have made for me, to dissect what works.  A note before we begin: we’ll use the term “Mix Tape” as a general term here, because “Mix CD” or “Playlist” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Up first, we have the APOLOGY MIX.  I’ve made a few of these in my day, but this one, titled The All Or Nothing Days (2014) is especially poignant because it was made for my friend Jason.  The epic fight we had, which lead to seven years of silence between us, was part of the inspiration for The Big Rewind, and the first thing we did when we reconnected (thanks to our awesome friend Corey, seriously, she rules and I owe her my whole life.) was make each other mixes.  I would be lying if I said I hadn’t planned a lot of this mix ahead of time, and I was glad I finally had a chance to use it.

A quick word about Jason: He was my mix tape protege, and has taken the art form to a new level.  He can pick songs and clips that are so precise, so devastatingly perfect, that it borders on sadistic.  He has made several of my all-time favorite mixes, including She Doesn’t Think My Tractor’s Sexy Anymore (2005) which should be in some sort of mix CD museum for it’s sheer brilliance.

The Apology Mix is meant to be listened to on headphones.  It’s a close, intimate type of mix, so make sure each of your messages comes through loud and clear.  You won’t around to explain the meaning of each song, so be precise in your choices.

The Title:

Pictured: Me and Jason

Your mix needs a title.  Untitled mixes are for chumps.  The title tells the listener what they’re in for.  This one, The All-Or-Nothing Days comes from one of Marv’s lines in Sin City: “These are the old days, man, the bad days, the all-or-nothing days.  They’re back.”  One of my geekier talents is how much of Sin City I can recite.  Get Jason & I together and we can do pretty much the whole movie.

The Opening Number

I cannot stress how important the opening number of a mix is.  It sets the tone, and if you pick the wrong song, you can set the listener up for a confusing experience.  In this case, I went with the Tragically Hip’s “In View.”  Not only is it bright and upbeat and fun, it also sets up the tone, lyric-wise:  “I’ve been meaning to call you” is a particularly poignant sentiment, given the circumstances under which this mix was made.

The Apology

Might as well get down to it.  Now, I think the Smiths are the perfect mix tape band; they have a song for every wonderful miserable niche emotion, so I went with “Bigmouth Strikes Again.”  But a single song won’t do it, so you’re going to want to group them.  I tied “Bigmouth” into a nice package with Tom Waits “Bad Liver & A Broken Heart,” then capped it all off with New Order’s “Regret” to bring things back around.

Sound Clips

Using sound clips is a great way to create transitions, hint at what’s next, or change the mood.  Because Jason & I quoted movies constantly, I used a wide variety, including Down With Love, Sideways, Mystery Science Theater 3000 and, of course, Sin City, at a number of different points on the mix.  But be careful–like a phone conversation or a dinner party, you don’t want to get too chatty.  Let the music do the work, and keep it short.

Things Are Fun When They’re Fun

Yes, it’s an apology mix, but you want to get some good times in there too, otherwise the whole thing drags.  I used The Replacements “I Will Dare” and Tenpole Tudor’s “Love and Food” to remind him how much fun we could have when they two of us really got going.

Callbacks

If you and your pal have been exchanging mix CDs for awhile, callbacks are always a good way to acknowledge the conversation that mix tapes make up.  In this instance, I used Sinead O’Connor’s version of “Why Don’t You Do Right,” mirroring the Amy Irving version (from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) from his first mix, Barbara Novak? Oh, That Don’t Ring a Bell.

I’m Still Sorry

Get a few more apologies in there, just to make sure they know how fucking sorry you are.  I went with Ryan Adams “My Winding Wheel” and Warren Zevon’s “Reconsider Me.”  But this late in the game, the apologies need to have an “I’ll do better,” promise to them.  We’re looking forward, not backwards.

The Kicker

Love and apology mixes have one thing in common: The Kicker.  The Kicker is the track, usually near the end, that puts all your feeling out there, hard.   This is where it all comes out, cards on the table, heart in your hands.  On the apology mix, it’s generally designed to make the listener cry.  On The All Or Nothing Days I went with Simply Red’s “Sunrise.”  Not to be outdone, Jason’s kicker, in reply, was Warren Zevon’s “Keep Me In Your Heart For Awhile.”  He plays dirty.

The Last Track

You want the last track to have a sense of wrapping it all up and closing it all out.  The songs between the Kicker and The Last Track should gradually bring things to the end, so don’t have a bunch of super bouncy songs and then slow things down, or vice-versa.  The apology mix is a journey, from heartbreak to reconciliation.  You want the last song to look to brighter days ahead.

Pictured: Totally 100% me & Jason.

Why I Don’t Leave Negative Reviews

Pictured: The Internet

I have friends that leave reviews constantly.  Liked the restaurant we ate at? Write a review on Yelp.  Hated the movie we saw?   A full rant is up on Facebook that night.

The phrase “Everyone’s a Critic” has never been truer.  Between Amazon and Yelp and, I dunno, MoviePoopShoot, everyone can tell you exactly what they think about everything.   Especially when we hate something.  Then we cannot shut up about it.

Me, I’m opting out.  I am no longer leaving bad reviews.

For me, writing a bad review is bossy.  It’s saying, “I’ve decided, in my infinite wisdom, that no one else should like this book/bar/movie/album because it did not please me.”  But tastes are subjective, and people have every right in the whole world to enjoy Ready Player One or The Force Awakens, even if I didn’t.

So why is it suddenly my job to tell people how I feel about something?  Why does Amazon pester me with demands that I rate my experience with my new lipstick?  It’s fine, I like it, so why am I now paying to be your marketing person?  That’s what my rating is, right?  It’s an advertisement for your product, couched in the First Amendment and our ingrained human desire for people to know our opinions on every single subject.

If I like a book, I buy someone I love a copy.  If a meal makes me especially happy, I’ll leave a big tip and bring a friend to the restaurant for dinner.  If I thought a movie was great, I’ll tell all my friends to go see it and won’t shut up about it.  And I will, on occasion, leave a positive review, but generally only for friends, because it’s my way of helping to support their careers.  I’m happy to advertise for them, but Disney has plenty of money to buy our love, so they don’t need to ask me to give it for free.

(And if my friend’s work is terrible, I tell them quietly, rather than embarrass them on the internet.)

It’s not my job or my civic duty to tell strangers about stuff I hate.  I’m happy to have individual conversations with my friends, dissecting what I thought worked and what didn’t work (especially over drinks), but the world is a negative enough place as it is without me shouting into the void about Kylo Ren.  Dippy as it sounds, I want to focus on the good things in life, not the bad.  Let’s praise, rather than drag down.  And let’s talk, rather than perch on a platform and holler.

If you didn’t like something, I’m truly sorry that you had a bad experience. I really am, and I hope the next book/movie/restaurant/album you spent time with is super-rad and you can praise it to the stars.  Because you deserve awesome things that make you happy…so why waste another moment on something that made you miserable?

What The Heck Is #RecordSaturday?

I love sharing music with people.  It compliments both my generous and my bossy nature (“Seriously, you’ll like this Steely Dan song, I swear….”) and for years, it’s what propelled my love of making mix tapes.  To be able to give someone a song that reminds you of them is a profound gesture, a portable party, a way of saying “You Are Rad.”

So I created RecordSaturday as a group listening party, since my 900 friends on Twitter probably can’t fit in my apartment.  I live-tweet an album from my collection (@libbycudmore) every Saturday night at 8 p.m., with stories about my personal connection to the album, cool record facts and a theme — I shared pictures of my best girlfriends with Cyndi Lauper’s She’s So Unusual for Galentine’s Day, and a Star Wars theme alongside Men At Work’s Business As Usual.

There’s also usually with a album cover pinup, which is my favorite part of the project.  These evolved simply from showing me with the record (so you know I’m not just a poser with a Spotify playlist) to full-scale photo shoots, whether I’m replicating the album cover, a piece of a music video or just playing on the theme.  Trademark to each are my black nerd glasses (even in the sexiest shots) and my Sephora Lip Last #23.

The Vapors, NEW CLEAR DAYS (1980)

(Miss this week’s pinup?  You can check them out on my Tumblr page)

Record Saturday is about getting a conversation going.  I want to hear how you like the album, your own stories with it, if you’re discovering it for the first time or if it’s a classic or even if your parents played it a hundred thousand times and now every time you hear Steely Dan’s “Peg” you want to scream.  So tune in at 8 p.m. every Saturday for some fun!

NEW NOTEBOOK: Lucca

Chrono Trigger’s Lucca was the first video game character I could really connect with.  She had big glasses, for starters, and she was smart and bookish, plus she wore sweeeeeeet boots.  And Crono’s ignoring of all of these great qualities in favor of busty blonde bimbo princess Marle was a good lesson for my late teens/early 20s: some basic bitch with a high ponytail and a tube top will always get the man you want*. (Eponine was a great tutor for this lesson as well).  My happiest snow days were spent playing that game on the TV in my mom’s bedroom, where I could surround myself with pillows and play in (relative) solitude.

I got on a Chrono Trigger kick awhile back; buying up old issues of Nintendo Power and reading the Boss Fight Books entry on the game.  I even played the unofficial sequel, Crimson Echoes, which was good until the stupid ending left Lucca behind to clean up idiot Marle’s mess because she’s a shit-for-brains queen. (and also I had a weird Marle glitch; serves the hussy right). Time travel is my favorite sci-fi concept, as evidenced by my great affection for Back to the Future, and I have always loved the look of skeleton keys and old clocks, of maps and worn paper.

It was time for a new notebook.

I finished Dutch’s last signatures with a scene from a piece Matthew and I are working on.  I needed a notebook that would be ready for anything; a scrap of poem, a scene from a dream.  I wanted this one to have the feel of something that traveled long distances, that is sturdy but beautiful, that balances between the an antique and the new feel.  And she would be named Lucca in tribute.

Lucca–Cover View

Because I started Lucca before I made Mona, I didn’t use endpapers, but I did sew an envelope into the back to keep track of stickers and pictures I intend to glue in.  I wrapped the covers better, and even got to use a cleaned “You Deserve a Donut” bag from the former Wenchell’s Donuts on May Ave. in Oklahoma City.  Lucca’s picture, cut from a 1996 issue of Nintendo Power, adorns the front cover, as does a 3D clock sticker.  The Nintendo Power issues I got off Ebay were some of the best ephemera purchases I have ever made.  I’ve been mailing random articles to people and it always makes them smile.

Lucca–Back View

I used a variety of papers for the signatures; parchment, and map pages, as well as origami paper on the spines.  I’ve become quite obsessed with soft sketch paper, finding it a perfect match for the gel ink I use to write while creating a wonderfully tactile writing experience, but I wanted the color contrast of the thin map pages and the slick parchment to create a diverse landscape of page textures.  To me, there’s nothing more thrilling in a notebook than to turn the page and find yourself writing on a new surface.  It’s what makes a notebook unique and exciting.

Lucca–Page View

I had every intention of finally learning French stitch, but I thought it would distract from the colored spine, so I went with my old coptic standby.  I’m getting really good at it too, which means it’s probably time to learn something new.

Right now I’m between novels, enjoying the release of The Big Rewind and waiting to submit my next novel proposal.  So I’m letting myself write whatever comes to me, regardless of whether or not I think it will ever develop into anything.  It’s a fun place to be in.

 

 

 

*I eventually did marry the man I wanted most of all, so it all worked out.

….And Introducing Valerie

Valerie is my good luck charm.  She has been at every reading I’ve ever given; either in my pocket or on the podium right next to me.  If I’m in a play, I carry her onstage in my purse.  She was with me when I walked across the stage to collect my MFA, tied into the sleeve of my graduation gown.  Nothing goes wrong when Valerie’s around.  I carried her on my wedding day and even brought her on my honeymoon!

Valerie, visiting family in Cave City, Kentucky

I got her on a museum trip when I was eight, along with a small Dilophosaurus.  I forget their original names, but they were re-discovered in a box when my mom moved, and I couldn’t bear to part with them like so many Pikachus.  I renamed them for Geena Davis & Jeff Goldblum’s characters in Earth Girls Are Easy, and later, gave Mac to my friend Matthew in grad school.  (They have a little reunion whenever we get together).  It was one one of these trips that I bought a third dinosaur, a stegosaurus named Ralph (in homage to Jurassic Park).

Dinosaurs are kind of a thing for Matthew and I; whenever we go to a conference, the first thing we check out is whether or not there’s a museum around.  We’ve been to cheesy dinosaur parks in Connecticut and The Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago.  We like to explore the cities hosting us, and dinosaurs dioramas are always fun to look at.

Valerie/Ralph 2016!

If you’re at a reading or event with me, ask for your picture with Valerie and post it on Twitter with the hashtag #ValerieSelfie.  I promise to retweet!

 

The Moment We’ve All Been Waiting For….

The Big Rewind is OUT!  Buy it at your local bookstore! Buy it on Amazon!  Buy it at Barnes & Noble!  Buy one for yourself, and another for someone you respect and admire!

Packed The House at the Green Toad Bookstore!

And if you love it, spread the word.  If you don’t, well, here’s hoping you find something ELSE you love and can talk that up instead!