Tia Silverthorne Bach's Blog, page 114

Melodies, Marketing & Music Videos

A little birdie told me the movie Top Gun is celebrating 25 years! Immediately I felt old, but then the soundtrack filled my head as did the music videos. MTV was movie's best friend. Before any big-budget movie came out, images from it were circulating MTV in the form of a music video.  I remember the video for Kenny Loggins' "Danger Zone" as music spliced with Tom Cruise's image. And who could forget John Parr's "St. Elmo's Fire" video. I couldn't wait to see these movies.Today, movies don't take advantage of this tie-in and marketing. I rarely know a song belongs to a movie, much less having a song sell the movie. I was too young to watch Breakfast Club when it first came out, but the music video "Don't You Forget about Me" allowed me to feel a part of the experience. And I knew the words to every single song on the Footloose and BOTH Dirty Dancing soundtracks. Now MTV showcases pregnant teenagers and a bunch of 20-somethings living together and discovering themselves. Gone are the days of music videos, or at least those being the focus. A mountain in Colorado on a lovely hike
(in my mind, Wolverton Mountain)
In our novel, Depression Cookies, we used song lyrics in several chapters. Why? I don't know about everyone else, but so many of my childhood memories are wrapped up in songs. Every single time I hear the lyrics, "Her tender lips are sweeter than honey, and Wolverton Mountain protects her there," I am transported to my family's Ford LTD, my father's voice, and a memorable cross-country car trip. When the 13-year-old in our novel prepares to face a hoard of angry teenage girls, she has the song "Eye of the Tiger" running in her mind. And when the mom is dealing with yet another day of difficult parenting, she hears The Shirelles' words, "Mama said there'll be days like this, there'll be days like this Mama said." Our book was set in the 80's, so I was thrilled to revive the images and melodies from my 80's childhood. But you know who still does movie music tie-ins really well? Kids' networks like Nickelodeon and the Disney channel. My girls knew several songs to the movie Lemonade Mouth before the Disney original movie even aired. Over and over the channel played the music video for the song. They sold my kids the movie. (Okay, they sold me the movie, too, but now I get to pretend I'm only sitting down to watch such things so I can bond with my kids.)I love to pick up a book and have the author mention a timely song that transports me. Now there's even the concept of making book trailers to sell books. Images and songs as a marketing gimic to sell product. Hmmmm, I guess the 80's are being revived. Do you have a favorite song that transports you to a specific memory? If so, please share! I'll be singing right along with you!

Friday Feature: My Favorite Thing I Read this Week and Why

My darling Mom took on our Friday Feature this week. Enjoy!! ******** Time is running out. The seconds are ticking away toward midnight. Bathing suit season strikes again. Women everywhere are beginning to take the fatal plunge. Which diet shall we turn to? Is there any truth out there? Which headline do we follow?            Drop 43 lbs. by Memorial Day!            Melt off 15 lbs. & 3 inches drinking Dr. Travis Stork's Flat-belly Shake!            Walk off 3 belly inches each week!            Shrink your FAT zones; Lose 7 lbs. in 7 days!            Melt off 45 lbs. fast on the new EXTREME WEIGHT WATCHERS!            The Dr. Oz Plan: Lose 10 lbs. in 4 weeks!            TURBO LOW-CARB! Lose 2 sizes in 17 days!            Hate working out? Lose twice as much body fat−with chocolate milk! The last time I went to the doctor, the nurse weighed me. I was proud−same weight as a year ago. Now that's something for a woman of 60+. But I only had two seconds to smile before she handed me a copy of a magazine article. "Read it," she said.  WebMD magazine's feature article "Waist Not" began, "Is a muffin top a fact of life for women approaching the big M?" Well, you know, I'm thinking "Yes, a muffin top diet. Now this one is right up my alley." Don't get excited. It's the excess fat spilling over your jean band−the pooch, but now it's called "menopot." In my younger day, the mention of any kind of "pot" might have excited some women. Today, it's a badge of defeat.I cannot even go to the grocery store without feeling the tension of the bulge; my fat cells expanding even as I type. Looking over the row upon row of magazines at the checkout fills me with angst. Should I buy them all? As I'm pulling out the Cracked Pepper Chips, Double Chocolate Chip Cookies and two cartons of Moose Track Ice Cream, placing them on the conveyer belt, a svelte, athletic looking woman pulls in behind me. I panic. How do you cover up that much sin food? You can't. So you lie."Boys! They'll eat you out of house and home!" I loudly announce, tossing the box of Little Debbie Oatmeal Cakes behind the rest of the junk. She nods as if understanding. Thank goodness she doesn't know I only have daughters. Still, I see the disgust and the three cartons of Greek yogurt, plain, a head of lettuce and bottle of wine, all looking naked and lonely in her cart. Come to think of it, I'd need more than a bottle of wine to live on such a meager diet. Where's the "Drink to Oblivion and Shrink to a Size 2" diet? Give it to me; I want her body!Before the last item is placed on the belt, I pick up Woman's Day, Good Housekeeping, First, and Prevention magazines. I pull back my shoulders to draw in the fat lady menopot. With a quick calculation, I realize I can quadruple my weight loss by Memorial Day weekend with one simple method. Once I stacked up all the results, the food recommendations came down to Greek yogurt, plain, a head of lettuce and loads of veggies. Now I get it . . . the miracle of weight loss no one wants to share is skip the food and sip wine as you walk. Yeah, that skinny broad thought she had one on me. Huh! I turn my filled cart around and headed right back up the aisle and straight for my weight loss additive−Merlot! Note from Tia: I laughed at this until my sides hurt. I swear my mom was not funny growing up. We've always attributed the family's gift of humor to my father, so he must have finally rubbed off on Mom after 40 years of marriage! Still, I couldn't help but add my own amusement at always seeing the diet headlines on women's magazines. I love the headlines that claim "Lose 10 pounds a week" in bold print. It leaves me wondering . . . would a 100 pound person simply disappear in 10 weeks? We hope everyone enjoys a lovely, stress-free weekend. A special shout-out to all the Blogathoners who use Blogger: have an extra glass of wine or extra piece of chocolate this weekend! We deserve it!

Guest Blogger, Eden Sterlington, on the Mother-Daughter Bond

Life is a beautiful journey, and sometimes you meet extraordinary souls on the path. I had never heard of LinkedIn before publishing a novel. I'd never used Twitter and only used Facebook as a way to connect with friends and to sometimes put out a parenting distress call. And now the Blogathon. Through all of these, I have met so many wonderful, creative and inspiring people.

Eden Sterlington is one of those. I reached out to her after reading several of her LinkedIn and Facebook postings. We exchanged several lovely messages and comments. When I asked her to guest blog, she was immediate. Yes. When I read her post, a tear fell down my cheek. It was beautiful and real, exactly what I expected.

Eden is the author of SatisFillment: Your Proven Pathway to POWER Action Guide (SatisFillment: Your Proven Pathways to Power, Passion, and Peace of Mind). But there's so much more to her story. Please visit Eden's websites at http://www.intimacyofficer.com/ and http://www.getbacktopassion.com/.

***********
I was alone in my studio apartment; living in Maryland at the time. I was 30, single, childless, gainfully employed, and 600 miles away from my family. I wanted it that way. I was enjoying discovering who I was independent of family entanglements. Little did I know that very soon, those entanglements were going to be my rescue.
I followed the instructions exactly. Some things you just don't want to be wrong about. It wasn't the first time I'd missed a period. I'd been on the Pill for years. I was accustomed to an occasional missed period. I wasn't pregnant then. I'd never been pregnant. I didn't feel any different now. Surely, something as life-altering as pregnancy would at least feel different.
The test was positive. I was going to be someone's mother. This was not my intention. My "relationship," as it turns out, was only exclusive on my side. When I let him know, he wanted me to have an abortion. When I refused, he moved to the US Virgin Islands. Suffice it to say, I got his point. I also promised myself and my baby that if he got back in, it would be on the child's terms−not his.
Fast forward 40 weeks. I'm back home with my family−the only help I could count on. In the stirrups after 28 hours of labor, I finally met her. I met Mommy's little bodily organ rearranger. She was a warm, soft, well-swathed little lump in my arms. Her tiny eyes struggled to focus. I held her closer to my heart. She calmed down. I introduced myself; seemed appropriate somehow. After all, I knew all about her. She only knew me from the inside and the sound of my muffled voice.
In that moment, I believed I understood unconditional love better than I ever had before. It didn't mean that she wouldn't make mistakes; it didn't mean that she wouldn't make BIG mistakes. I knew she would make bad decisions, do wrong things, exhaust me in a way no one else ever would. But the unbounded trust and love I saw in her little dark grey, blinky eyes pierced my fear, sadness, abandonment, and overwhelm straight to the center of my heart and the core of my soul. The love I had for her was different than ANYTHING I'd ever felt or would ever feel again. I knew she was counting on me for everything. I purposed in my heart, I would use all my remaining breaths not to let her down.
Fast forward to the present. She's 17 and preparing for college. She is unquestionably the best thing I've ever done in my life. She still leaves lights on when she leaves a room, she only answers her cell phone "sometimes" when I call, and she can wreck a room faster than anyone I know. She's a teenager. She's a popular teenager. Weekends are never our own in our tiny apartment. It seems I get to lease a regular rotation of other people's daughters week after week.
At the same time, she's beautiful, healthy, smart, funny, compassionate, and artistic. She's blossoming into quite a young woman. She's more focused than the average teen. Her ambition is to be an engineer. Her dream is to appear on the covers of Time and Newsweek at least once. I admire her conviction. She's my Shero! She's been through a lot with me. Yet, 17 years later, one thing hasn't changed. I will still use all my remaining breaths not to let her down. She shares her heart with me. She trusts me with her feelings. We communicate openly (I always make sure I'm sitting down first). Most of the time, we even like each other. We always love each other, but liking each other is another dimension of "groovy" that is absolutely miraculous to achieve.
I became a mother by surprise. She became my daughter without her consent. Together, we have forged the bond unbreakable. She will forever and always be my "Pooh." My life has been forever changed by a title I wear with the greatest honor−Mom.

Ten Mistakes I Made in my Writing Career so that You don't Have to by Elaine Isaak

Elaine IsaakFirst of all, a huge thank you to Elaine for allowing me to post her mistakes. I am paraphrasing her very informative and eye-opening presentation I attended recently as part of the Maryland Writers' Association Frederick Chapter. Please go to www.ElaineIsaak.com to find out more about Elaine and her novels (several of her covers are featured in this post as well).

1.       Writing a lousy synopsis – the "synopsis" she initially sent with her sample chapters was longer than the sample. A good rule of thumb for a synopsis: 5-7 pages, single-spaced, third-person, present tense (try to sound like you are describing the book to a friend).
2.       Not sending what the editor asked for – An editor was interested in her series and asked for the completed first two books as well as whatever was finished with book #3. She wasn't ready to share and didn't send it. As a result, she was only offered a two-book deal. Lesson: Don't reject yourself−let the editor decide!
3.       Letting big talk sway my own instincts – know your genre and talk to writers to know where you fit, and then trust your instincts.
4.       Signing the wrong contract – specifically avoid "evil option clauses" in contracts. For example, her contract listed a Right of First Refusal (customary) on her "next book 90 days after the 2nd book in contract is published." Make sure the clause is tighter like Right of First Refusal for the "next in the series" or "next fantasy novel." She couldn't shop around some other books she was working on, a romance series and a YA series, because her clause was too broad.
5.       Selling the wrong book first – Crazy as it may sound, it's easier to sell the first book (author has potential) than a second or third. Consider where you see yourself as an author in 5/10 years. What book represents that vision?
6.       Not researching competing titles or comparing my work to other authors – it's as simple as knowing where your book "fits" so you can sell it.
7.       Dropping the ball on publicity for the sequel – the publishing house will not market for you; keep in touch with readers between books via blogging and a website. Another idea: sell articles based on your book or a theme in your book.
8.       Keeping my agent after she stopped working – you want open communication with your agent. If you feel he/she stops believing in you, don't feel indebted. Better to have no agent than a bad agent.
9.       Losing momentum in drafting new work – Stay in the habit of writing; ideas flow when you are actively engaged. Set a goal (for example so many words per day) and stick to it.
10.   Forgetting that I write because I love it!
I was inspired, particularly because it helped me realize mistakes are part of the learning process. So, I  wanted to share my five mistakes (so far):
1.       Not researching all our options before publishing – Mom and I were fortunate to have a small publishing house pick us up right away (thanks to a contact), but went into a tailspin when the owner suddenly died, as his company died with him. We knew we had good, professional editing (something we did right!), but we jumped into self-publishing. We were ready to roll. We didn't send ONE query letter. We didn't really understand agents, but that's no excuse. We should have hit the internet and found out. 
2.       Having no marketing plan until after we published – everything I've read now says to start pre-marketing your book between six months to a year BEFORE it comes out. Build your "brand." Most marketing efforts take time. We were so busy preparing the book that we forgot to consider how to sell it! Also, since we published in late 2010, we didn't realize how quickly we had to get up to speed to enter contests and other things before our book was no longer eligible as "new."
3.       Querying agents too late – Querying agents is good, right? Sure, if you haven't already published your novel. I didn't get that until I had a sit-down with an agent at a writers' conference. She asked me why I needed an agent if we had already published. I sat blankly staring at her for a few minutes. "To get our novel into traditional publishers so we'd get better marketing," I finally said. (see Elaine Isaak's #7 above) She said we needed marketing help, not an agent. So true. If we were going to be serious about querying, we should have tried that before choosing self-publishing (see my #1).
4.       Publishing a novel during personal crisis – I was so eager, too eager (again see #1). My family was in the middle of a cross-country move and our self-publisher was pushing us to get the book out. I should have taken a few breaths and slowed down. I was making important decisions (like the cover!) while trying to sell a house and transition three kids. So I rushed to publication, but put off marketing until after the move!
5.       Not having another book in the works – although Mom and I will remedy this soon (suspenseful enough for you?), we didn't see past this book. It was only as people were asking what was next that we started to put it together. Wish us luck!
These are my top five; there have been more and will be more, so we'll keep you updated! And, don't get me wrong, we are both very proud of our novel (stay tuned for some exciting awards news that we can't quite publish yet!). I just wish I knew then what I know now.
I often compare the publishing world to parenting−every time I think I know something about it, it changes!


Haiku Day!!

When Michelle Rafter of WordCount's Blogathon suggested we write haikus for our May 10th posting, I went straight to my mom. First of all, she's a poet, something I am not. Second, I always go to my mom when I'm in over my head, and a haiku definitely qualified. Thank you Mom for always being there.

Here's Mom's post . . .

There's something about being a mother. Your children ask and you do somersaults to grant their wishes, even if it makes you look foolish. Then again, foolish isn't so bad if it puts a smile on your daughter's face or gets your granddaughter to giggle, is it? Here are two gimmicks I recently fell for.Tia said, "Mom, let's write a book." Ten years later Depression Cookies was published.Tia said, "Mom, please write a haiku." This is my first and my last . . . so enjoy. 
Motherhood beginsNo lessons or a manualJust sheer off the cuff
Come to think of it, my grandmother would find haikus very frugal. Moderation was her philosophy on life. From my viewpoint, this poetic form goes beyond scrimping. It's like buying the designer matching wallet without the purse. That's wrong. Mom and Tia 1973
(Psst . . . don't tell Mom I found this
old picture, much less posted it)

A Letter from my Daughter

My oldest daughter, Jackie, gave me the sweetest letter yesterday for Mother's Day. I had to share:
Dear Mom,I love you so much. You are inspiring and a gift from Heaven. Thank you so much for always being there for me. As long as I remember, you have answered all my questions. No matter how disturbing the answer may be. I can't believe you have such a variety of knowledge from mean girls to my body. I can't believe God himself has sent me a present=you. You are the best mom anyone could ask for.Love, Jackie (will be 11 on 5/15/11)
This tear-inducing letter brought about the following prayer last night.
Dear Lord,Let me always live up to these sweet words, and let her always believe I have a variety of knowledge instead of thinking I don't know anything or I just don't understand. Please give me the strength to raise her to leave me, to go out into a world which I both know and can't possibly fathom. May she know You and turn to You when I am gone. I want these for each of my daughters and so much more.In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

Happy Mother's Day: The Gifts of Mother & Daughter

Five Generations
(after my Great-Grandmother,
we are all first born women) From Angela : As long as I've been writing, it never dawned on me that one day I'd be co-authoring a book with my daughter.  But I do remember thinking when she was thirteen that I'd write a mystery-turned-realism on how to smuggle your child onto a slow boat to China with a two way passage not to return until she was eighteen. Then when she hit eighteen, I envisioned writing an epic novel on how to keep her from going to college and losing everything we had worked so hard to plant in her head. It would have extended into the future, planning her life, naming her children, selecting her career and choosing her husband. None of this was to gain control of her life, but to protect her from harm's way and getting hurt. I knew too well that life was hard. Why not save her the angst?But I didn't have to do any of that. Tia managed it all much better than I could have ever imagined. In fact, she has excelled in all areas of her life. All that mind-wrenching planning was unnecessary; she bloomed into her own unique woman.When Tia approached me about writing a book told from both a mother and daughter's perspective, I laughed out loud. But she planted a seed that over the next few conversations began to germinate and finally come to fruition. Writing Depression Cookies with my daughter has been an honor. How many mothers can say they worked for ten years with their daughter on a project? But looking back over our writing venture, I remember the many times we laughed and cried. Sometimes I laughed so hard I couldn't finish a sentence. There's also been plenty of frustration to the point one or both of us were ready to abandon the project. But as it always is with us, when one was ready to throw in the towel, the other encouraged and we kept going. We mothers always think we are the only ones imparting knowledge, but Tia taught me a lot during the process of writing with her−perseverance, insight and verb control. I never realized how much I wandered between the past, present and future. She has been a professional, reminding me to push my writing . . . unless I venture anywhere near sex. Suddenly the conversation was over. On that note, but don't share it with her, if I wanted to get her goat while we were writing, I got very gifted at slipping in a love scene. Most of those ended up being eliminated . . . poor Bob!On this Mother's Day, I want to say how proud I am to be at the vantage point to watch Tia walk her life's path, especially in motherhood. I think Abby's life would have been less challenging if she had been birthed with your words and your inspiration. And if the tides were turned and I had written Krista's, don't you know that would be one messed up child!**** From Tia : I was simply going to say, "Ditto." Mom said it beautifully, as she always does. I was blessed with wonderful parents. My mother and father alternatively reined me in and let me fly. Moving all over the country growing up, sometimes all I had were my mom, dad and two sisters. Now, between the three of us, there are seven granddaughters. We are a family strong in women, for sure, but also strong in men. My dad and husband have to be strong, show leadership and love in equal amounts while surrounded by women. When Jackie was born, we had five generations on my mom's side. How many kids these days get to take a five-generation picture? God has given me many gifts.Mom gave me many things, but my love of reading and writing is the one I most treasure. She also taught me to pull for the underdog, have strong faith and believe in myself even when I thought I couldn't or shouldn't. She is my backbone. I can only hope to keep the female strength alive now with my own three daughters.Writing a novel with Mom was icing on the cake. We started the novel when my first was six months old and finished it when my girls were 10, 8 and 5. It's a journey I will never forget. At a recent mother-daughter speech Mom and I gave at NC State University, the moms were talking about mom-isms. Things like "money doesn't grow on trees" and "I told you so." All I could think of was the time my mom sat rocking back and forth on the edge of her bed, with her head in her hands, saying, "Good Lord, please don't let me kill her." I guess it's true: what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.I love you Mom.Happy Mother's Day

One More Thank You by Angela Silverthorne

My mother died two years ago in April. A bit of me died then as well. It was the part where I couldn't pick up the phone and say, "Guess what?" Or ask her advice. Or have lunch, recollecting funny childhood stunts and silliness. Or say, "I love you." There was a hole in my chest without a name that ached . . . constantly.Someone once said, "Women hold up half the sky." My mother held the entire heaven with her pinky. She worked full-time and then came home to mounds of dirty laundry, whiny and hungry kids, a mother-in-law who lived next door, and a man who felt watching the television was an earned privilege. I watched her run on empty. On rare occasions, I saw her staring dreamy-eyed out the window, and I wondered what she saw. Was she dreaming about the characters in the volumes of books she devoured? My mother was the only mother I saw read books, and she could read them on the fly. I'd never seen anyone so efficient at holding a book in one hand, a ladle in the other, nod as if listening to nagging children, and then laugh a gutsy laugh to the wind without seeming to mind all the turbulence around her.I only saw my mother lose her temper twice. Both times it was directed at me. The last time I understood and did not repeat the offense. I never realized how efficient my mother could be at waling my cheek with a brush in ten seconds flat. She proved her point without the need for a repeat performance.Mama often cried at old movies.  But, beyond that, I only saw her cry one other time. Mother stood with her feet firmly planted, defying every storm that assaulted her−until Daddy died. At the moment his soul released itself from his cancer-ridden body, my mother buried her head into his chest and wailed a heart-wrenching cry. I stood and watched like a voyeur not able to release my eyes from the misery of loss. Two years ago in April I buried my mother. A part of me lies next to her empty body. The other parts continue on their path of living without her. Joy and love fill my days. Friends and family pull in tighter, not to fill the void, but to hold on not to fall apart. During Bible study, the Word reminds me that death was defeated at the cross and one day all believers will be together again. I understand. I believe. But I still want my Mama, one more time . . . just to say, "Thank you."

Favorite Thing I Read this Week and Why: New Friday Feature

I'm so excited about our new Friday feature inspired by all the lovely folks at the Blogathon. Please check out some of the wonderful bloggers at Blogathon Blogroll.

As a writer and reader, I always read something memorable every week, so why not showcase it here?

This week my favorite is a poem by Tina Fey. It's perfect for heading into the Mother's Day weekend.

A Mother's Prayer for Its Child by Tina Fey

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it's the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach's eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called "Hell Drop," "Tower of Torture," or "The Death Spiral Rock 'N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith," and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I'm asking You, because if I knew, I'd be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. "My mother did this for me once," she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby's neck. "My mother did this for me." And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I'll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen." -Tina Fey
Humor is a key ingredient to raising children (and life in general in my opinion), and Tina Fey expertly illustrates this with her hilarious poem featured in her book Bossypants. We all want so much for our children, but sometimes too much of a good thing like texting, the internet, Facebook, beauty, money, etc. can destroy. Often in life the unanswered prayers are dearest.

Mom and I will be writing a blog post on Saturday, May 15 celebrating the idea of humor and wishes. We will each detail our prayer for Jackie, my oldest daughter and my mom's oldest grand-daughter. Please tune in.

Also, as a shout-out to my fellow Blogathon participants, I wanted to highlight the blog I've enjoyed the most this week (although it was VERY hard to choose). Please stop by and read Liz Sheffield's Motherlogue.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

What Not to Do During a Television Interview

Mom and I just taped our first television interview about our novel on Monday. There are several things we did right. First and foremost, we practiced over and over again the questions we were given and knew our answers cold. We also practiced in front of a mirror, painful but helpful. I seriously don't know how people do live television. Without this practice and knowing our questions beforehand, I would have puked for sure (see #4 below).

Still, there were several things we learned:

1. Don't Use Someone Else's Beauty Products

My mom has very coarse, dry hair while I have my Dad's thin, oily hair. So it should have dawned on me not to use her shampoo for dry hair the day before a television interview. It didn't. The next morning, I touched my hair and wondered why it felt so oily. I started to panic. I started styling, but the more I touched my hair, the greasier it felt. Mom's attempt at teasing, which could easily be listed as Mistake #1 all by itself, only made matters worse. I finally rewashed my hair with the "God awful soap the hotel gives you" as Mom said. We made it to the interview on time, and now I know to bring my own products. Stick with what you know works for you.

2. Don't Assume you Know Anything about Television Production

I did my research. I watched the show many times and noticed when the host was interviewing two people, the guest on the outer edge of the couch got the widescreen shots. Never would I want to be on the receiving end of a widescreen shot. So, I devised a plan to sit on the inside, and jokingly (well, not completely) told Mom I would run to the couch and tackle her if she attempted to get my coveted spot. She gracefully motioned me forward. I got my spot. However, little did I realize from the beautifully edited shots I viewed in the mornings, this spot was problematic. First, I had to ping-pong my head from the host to my mom when I wasn't speaking. Whiplash and awkward only beging to describe the sensation. Then, I realized I could see the camera man as he was frantically doing the "wrap it up signal" while Mom was facing away from him and blissfully unaware. So much for trying to be prepared.

3. Resist Green Room Goodies
(otherwise known as "Eat and Drink Something Before you Go to the Set")

The production staff was so nice. They led us to our green room and told us to please have some coffee, soda or pastries while we waited. We were starving. We didn't want to eat anything before in case our nerves decided to reject it. Still, Mom decided some pastry would calm the fear that her stomach would growl mid-taping. She bit into a nice chocolate pastry, and I immediately pointed out the remnants in her teeth. She fixed it. We went to makeup and then came back to wait. Now we were thirsty. Don't want to do an interview with dry mouth, right? Have you ever tried to drink from a water bottle without disturbing your professional makeup or dribbling on your pristine and carefully-chosen outfit? It's not easy.

4. Don't Text your Husband After with a Joke

Right after the taping, I wanted to text my husband to let him know how it went. I knew he was nervous for me, plus I owed him the courtesy after leaving him with our three kids for three days. I thought a humorous text immediately followed by a "JK" text would be fun. I should never underestimate how slow I text. Lord knows my daughter wouldn't. I texted him, "Mom and I did great after the producers cleaned up my puke." I couldn't even get in the "JK" before I received, "Come on. Oh no!" Then, just to make me feel worse, I lost my signal for a couple of minutes before I could finally let him off the hook. My kids better NEVER pull a trick like that on me.

In the end, have fun and trust yourself. And, if you feel you can't go it alone, definitely take your mom like I did.

We will have a link to our interview up soon, but in the meantime, go to http://www.thebalancingact.com/ and check out the show. Danielle Knox was our host, and she was lovely.

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Tune in tomorrow for a new feature.
Every Friday we will feature the "Favorite Thing I Read This Week and Why." It could be anything from a magazine article to a novel or even something a child wrote. Check back tomorrow!