Samantha Verant's Blog, page 11
July 16, 2014
Wednesday is All Write: Win a $100 Victoria's Secret Gift Card + Goodies from France
Or, in other words, get your romance on!
To celebrate the upcoming release of my memoir, Seven Letters from Paris (Sourcebooks in the US/Random House Australia), I'm offering a chance to win a $100 Victoria's Secret gift card and a yet to be determined basket of specialty goods from France. Of course, no purchase is required to enter the contest...
but, then again, pre-orders are very important for a debut author like me. Brian McClellan explained it best; here are the key points as illustrated in his article:"Why are pre-orders important? The most obvious reason would be bestseller lists. Pre-orders count toward first week sales that often determine whether a book winds up on a bestselling list, a possibility that can be huge for any author.A large number of pre-orders can cause a vendor (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million) to go back to the publisher and ask for another order of books.It's a snowball effect. The book hasn't hit shelves yet and it's already gotten both booksellers and publishers excited for it. All of these facets spin together to make pre-orders a huge part of the business. They're good for bookstores, publishers, and most especially for the authors whose living depends on their books selling well.If you have an author whose book you're planning on buying and you can afford to put the money down ahead of time, please pre-order their book."Yes with a capital Y! I'm trying to build up some pre-pub excitement! Seven Letters from Paris will be released into the wild on October 7th, 2014 (lucky number 7!), also the day the contest will end. Again, no purchase is required to win...but if you're so inclined, you can pre-order Seven Letters from Paris here:AmazonBarnes and NobleBook Depository(and everywhere else books are sold!)
TO ENTER THE CONTEST:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Here's the advance praise for Seven Letters from Paris so far: ***Please note some quotes will be shorter in the final book. “A charming story, and a delightful tribute to the power of a good old-fashioned love letter.” --Peter Mayle, bestselling author of A Year in Provence“Seven Letters from Paris is a real-life fairytale. You’ll be rooting for this bubbly American heroine and her prince charmant.” --Elizabeth Bard, author of Lunch in Paris: A Love Story“Seven Letters from Paris is a celebration of l’amour across cultures and across decades…Samantha Vérant embraces France, and her French love, with an all-American enthusiasm that is nothing if not infectious.” –Hilary Reyl, author of Lessons in French“You’ll tear up reading this inspiring love story… Seven Letters from Paris is sweet, touching, and real.” --Kristin Espinasse, author of Words in a French Life: Lessons in Love and Language from the South of France"A true story of long-lost passion found, but also a cautionary tale on the importance of small gestures and romance in everyday life." --Jennifer L. Scott, author of Lessons from Madame Chic"A sweet and comical modern love story of one woman's wonderful happily-ever-after." -- Wendy Lawless, author of the NY Times bestseller Chanel Bonfire“Seven Letters from Paris is a glorious, life-affirming testament to the power of love to change everything.” –Jo Maeder, author of Opposites Attack and When I Married My Mother"In a world where love letters and romantic overtures have all but disappeared, it is reassuring to know that feelings committed to a page still have the power to bring two people together. Samantha and Jean-Luc were clearly destined to be reunited and their story is an inspiration for anyone still searching for a soul mate." -- Patricia Gucci, author of In the Name of Gucci"Two star-crossed lovers must go up against the passage of time, the difficulty of distance, and many hilarious dinner-party faux pas to make their 40-something cross-cultural romance survive. Reading this book is like eating a bowl of strawberries in the sunshine. It’s a delicious and joyful story from beginning to end, one that makes you hold your breath and clutch your heart with vicarious excitement as you're carried along what must be one of the sweetest love stories that’s ever been told." -- Torre DeRoche, author of Love with a Chance of Drowning“Enchanting. A captivating real-life fairytale romance that will have you reading slowly so you can savor every delicious word. Castles included!” --Janice MacLeod, author of Paris Letters"Seven Letter From Paris is the story of a sexy, passionate, whirlwind romance twenty years in the making...and worth the wait. Sam shows us all the power of second chances and following your heart." --Teresa Rhyne, author of the NY Times #1 Bestseller The Dog Lived (And So Will I)“Wonderfully engaging and endearingly honest.” --Samantha Brick, author of Head Over Heels in France: Falling in Love in the Lot"Inspirational and heartfelt, this book illustrates that it's never too late to change directions in life. Verant's story reveals how having the courage to follow your heart and a take a big leap when you're feeling stuck can put you on the path that you're truly meant to be." --Holly C. Corbett, national magazine editor and co-author of The Lost Girls: Three Friends. Four Continents. One Unconventional Detour Around the World."Not since Dangerous Liaisons has French letter writing been this exciting." -- Helena Frith Powell, author of Two Lipsticks and a Lover"Seven Letters from Paris renewed my belief in the power of true love and made me believe that miracles can happen!" --Jamie Cat Callan, bestselling author of French Women Don't Sleep Alone Watch the Book Trailer for Seven Letters from ParisPlease help me spread the word about the contest. Tweet it, blog it, email it! Good karma will come your way! I'm just a girl standing in front of the world with a book that took five years in the making.
It's getting exciting! I'm delighted to share this journey you! Thank you all for your love and support.
Bisous from Toulouse,
Samantha
xox
To celebrate the upcoming release of my memoir, Seven Letters from Paris (Sourcebooks in the US/Random House Australia), I'm offering a chance to win a $100 Victoria's Secret gift card and a yet to be determined basket of specialty goods from France. Of course, no purchase is required to enter the contest...but, then again, pre-orders are very important for a debut author like me. Brian McClellan explained it best; here are the key points as illustrated in his article:"Why are pre-orders important? The most obvious reason would be bestseller lists. Pre-orders count toward first week sales that often determine whether a book winds up on a bestselling list, a possibility that can be huge for any author.A large number of pre-orders can cause a vendor (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million) to go back to the publisher and ask for another order of books.It's a snowball effect. The book hasn't hit shelves yet and it's already gotten both booksellers and publishers excited for it. All of these facets spin together to make pre-orders a huge part of the business. They're good for bookstores, publishers, and most especially for the authors whose living depends on their books selling well.If you have an author whose book you're planning on buying and you can afford to put the money down ahead of time, please pre-order their book."Yes with a capital Y! I'm trying to build up some pre-pub excitement! Seven Letters from Paris will be released into the wild on October 7th, 2014 (lucky number 7!), also the day the contest will end. Again, no purchase is required to win...but if you're so inclined, you can pre-order Seven Letters from Paris here:AmazonBarnes and NobleBook Depository(and everywhere else books are sold!)
TO ENTER THE CONTEST:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Here's the advance praise for Seven Letters from Paris so far: ***Please note some quotes will be shorter in the final book. “A charming story, and a delightful tribute to the power of a good old-fashioned love letter.” --Peter Mayle, bestselling author of A Year in Provence“Seven Letters from Paris is a real-life fairytale. You’ll be rooting for this bubbly American heroine and her prince charmant.” --Elizabeth Bard, author of Lunch in Paris: A Love Story“Seven Letters from Paris is a celebration of l’amour across cultures and across decades…Samantha Vérant embraces France, and her French love, with an all-American enthusiasm that is nothing if not infectious.” –Hilary Reyl, author of Lessons in French“You’ll tear up reading this inspiring love story… Seven Letters from Paris is sweet, touching, and real.” --Kristin Espinasse, author of Words in a French Life: Lessons in Love and Language from the South of France"A true story of long-lost passion found, but also a cautionary tale on the importance of small gestures and romance in everyday life." --Jennifer L. Scott, author of Lessons from Madame Chic"A sweet and comical modern love story of one woman's wonderful happily-ever-after." -- Wendy Lawless, author of the NY Times bestseller Chanel Bonfire“Seven Letters from Paris is a glorious, life-affirming testament to the power of love to change everything.” –Jo Maeder, author of Opposites Attack and When I Married My Mother"In a world where love letters and romantic overtures have all but disappeared, it is reassuring to know that feelings committed to a page still have the power to bring two people together. Samantha and Jean-Luc were clearly destined to be reunited and their story is an inspiration for anyone still searching for a soul mate." -- Patricia Gucci, author of In the Name of Gucci"Two star-crossed lovers must go up against the passage of time, the difficulty of distance, and many hilarious dinner-party faux pas to make their 40-something cross-cultural romance survive. Reading this book is like eating a bowl of strawberries in the sunshine. It’s a delicious and joyful story from beginning to end, one that makes you hold your breath and clutch your heart with vicarious excitement as you're carried along what must be one of the sweetest love stories that’s ever been told." -- Torre DeRoche, author of Love with a Chance of Drowning“Enchanting. A captivating real-life fairytale romance that will have you reading slowly so you can savor every delicious word. Castles included!” --Janice MacLeod, author of Paris Letters"Seven Letter From Paris is the story of a sexy, passionate, whirlwind romance twenty years in the making...and worth the wait. Sam shows us all the power of second chances and following your heart." --Teresa Rhyne, author of the NY Times #1 Bestseller The Dog Lived (And So Will I)“Wonderfully engaging and endearingly honest.” --Samantha Brick, author of Head Over Heels in France: Falling in Love in the Lot"Inspirational and heartfelt, this book illustrates that it's never too late to change directions in life. Verant's story reveals how having the courage to follow your heart and a take a big leap when you're feeling stuck can put you on the path that you're truly meant to be." --Holly C. Corbett, national magazine editor and co-author of The Lost Girls: Three Friends. Four Continents. One Unconventional Detour Around the World."Not since Dangerous Liaisons has French letter writing been this exciting." -- Helena Frith Powell, author of Two Lipsticks and a Lover"Seven Letters from Paris renewed my belief in the power of true love and made me believe that miracles can happen!" --Jamie Cat Callan, bestselling author of French Women Don't Sleep Alone Watch the Book Trailer for Seven Letters from ParisPlease help me spread the word about the contest. Tweet it, blog it, email it! Good karma will come your way! I'm just a girl standing in front of the world with a book that took five years in the making.
It's getting exciting! I'm delighted to share this journey you! Thank you all for your love and support.
Bisous from Toulouse,
Samantha
xox
June 3, 2014
Tuesday Travels: Diving in Le Cap d'Agde
My frog grew up in La Ciotat, right on the Mediterranean Sea, and the neighbor to the better-known village of Cassis. The frog loves the water– so much in fact, he has been diving in unchartered waters for well over twenty years. He is a moniteur fédéral-- basically a pro diver. He’s also my dive instructor. Could be a big mistake. Could be a way to tighten the link between us. Put it this way: a little positive reinforcement goes a long way, or you better tell me what I'm doing right before you launch into a diatribe of what I'm doing wrong.
THAT, my dear frog, is a hint. I know you read my blog. And I love you.
In any relationship, it’s important to embrace your partner’s passions. You’re able to share experiences together, to live for the moment, to take adventures together. Admittedly, I was a reluctant diver at first. I suffered panic attacks to the point where my bottle of air was depleted in twenty minutes. But slowly, and surely, fear left my system.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Last year, I received my niveau 1, or open water diving license, which means I can dive with a moniteur for twenty meters (sixty feet).
This year, I’m working on obtaining my PE-40- diving 40 meters (120 feet), and this past weekend, we had an outing with the frog’s diving club to train. The water? 15 or 16 degrees (60 F). Cold as ice, but not too bad when you’re wearing a surf-shorty under your 6mm wetsuit, gloves, and booties.
The crazy little things we do for love.
It all looks tranquil enough at the dock.
Suit up.
I'm smiling. But I'm not. But I am. Oh, I don't know.
I'm just rolling with the tides.
Here we go. Yay?
I DO love diving. Well, now. But this weekend had me questioning my decision to continue with the sport. I also questioned my sanity. 'Cause I be cray-cray. Four days. Eight dives. Cold water. Choppy sea. And nearly ZERO visibility.
Day One:
Dive one: 10-meter dive (31 feet for 30 minutes). One-meter (three feet) of visibility. It was okay. But where the hell are the pretty fishies? We performed a few “tasks”- taking our masks off, putting them back on, pretending we had run out of air (sharing the spare regulator), and using our parachutes to signal our climb.
Dive two: 9.5-meter dive (twenty-four minutes). No visibility. Maybe five inches at best? Did you see the fish? Maybe it was a squirrel? A squirrel of the sea?
Day Two:
Dive one: 21-meter dive (63 feet for 20 minutes). One foot of visibility. We descended by the anchor, where Jean-Luc attached a string. The other diver and I followed the string, otherwise known as le fil d’ariane. Saw a couple of fish--when they were five inches from my face. Why, hello.
Dive two: 11-meter dive (33-feet, 25 minutes). Better visibility. I saw two crabs. Humping. I didn't interrupt them.
Day Three:
Dive one: 10-meter dive (30-feet, 28 minutes). Tried a nitrox bottle. (34% oxygen/66% air) Saw a brown fish. Blah!
This next dive sucked. Big time. It’s also the reason I’m referring to Jean-Luc as “the frog” (again) in this post. Like, dude, where’s the romance? Are you trying to get rid of me?
Dive two: 8-meter dive (5 minutes). No visibility. ZERO. It was so bad the frog lost me and the other diver. I saw his flippers disappear into darkness. I waited for him to return. Alone. In a sand storm. I panicked at first, yes. Then I got mad, muttering every curse word under the sun, hard to do with a regulator in your mouth. I counted for ten seconds, as instructed. I paddled a couple of feet. Still nothing. Then, I said, “What the hell am I doing? I want out! Like now.” My inside voice said, "I'm going to kill the frog. And it will be a painful death." Slowly, I finned my way to the surface (alone) and made my way back to the boat. Don’t worry. I was trained for this kind of situation.
Jean-Luc popped to the surface a couple of minutes later, the other lost diver following suit.
"Want to come back in?" asked Jean-Luc.
Uh. Hell no. Was he crazy? Not my idea of a good time. And I didn't want to lose whatever passion I had left for the sport.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" I said.
Day Four made up for everything...
Day Four:
Dive one: 23-meter dive (21 minutes). No visibility at first. ZERO. I grabbed onto the handle of Jean-Luc’s air bottle so I wouldn’t lose him. Again. The other diver held onto the spare regulator. We were like little fish, hanging onto the frog. For five minutes, we saw nothing but blurry shapes and blackness. Then, all of a sudden, the sea opened up. Woo-hoo! We had at least four meters (12 feet) of visibility and the creatures of the sea performed a little show. IT WAS FANTASTIC! The coral was purple. Tiny, spiny lobster peeked out from rocks. Beautiful Angel fish! Black fish with Flamenco- style dress tails! Bring it on!
Dive two: 10-meters dive (40 minutes). Simply awesome. Octopuses inking. Jellyfish a blinking. And beautiful Mediterranean fish galore. (Some ugly ones, too, but who am I to pass judgment...)
Unfortunately, due to the mostly nasty dive conditions, I wasn’t able to obtain my PE-40, as we needed to dive at least 35-feet. But there’s always next time. Watch out Spain! Here I come. I’ll be in your waters at the end of June. Damn straight. I'm doing it again. As the frog put it, "If you can handle adverse conditions, just think how easy and enjoyable it will be with the good."
My inner chant goes somewhat like this: Maldives! Australia! Thailand! Bora Bora! Seychelles! And so on...
I want to dive with dolphins, swim with turtles and manta rays and whales, while discovering the this magnificent under water world of ours...in crystal clear waters. Yep. One day I hope to check these dreams off my bucket list. Until then, though, I'm still in training.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Lunch on the beach. Yep. Very beautiful...and soothing for frazzled nerves.
An apéro!
We stayed at a "camping site" called Mer et Soleil, where you can rent 'bungalows'
or a patch of land to pitch your tent or park your camping car. Sure, it's a mobile home.
Off season, our little two bedroom was 60 euro/night. In season? Triple the cost.
The fully equipped kitchen (save for an oven) helps the budget!
Mer et Soleil is a five-star camping resort, complete with a pool...
and nightly entertainment.
Yeah. Quite interesting. Let's scare the kids? Nah, the kids loved this guy. Girl? Whatever.
All in all, it was an excellent long weekend. The bad conditions just prepared me to be a better diver.
I feel a song coming on.
"At first I was afraid...I was petrified...Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side..."
But I SURVIVED! I survived. Hey, hey!
And, damn it, if I'm not proud of myself.
THAT, my dear frog, is a hint. I know you read my blog. And I love you.
In any relationship, it’s important to embrace your partner’s passions. You’re able to share experiences together, to live for the moment, to take adventures together. Admittedly, I was a reluctant diver at first. I suffered panic attacks to the point where my bottle of air was depleted in twenty minutes. But slowly, and surely, fear left my system.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Last year, I received my niveau 1, or open water diving license, which means I can dive with a moniteur for twenty meters (sixty feet).
This year, I’m working on obtaining my PE-40- diving 40 meters (120 feet), and this past weekend, we had an outing with the frog’s diving club to train. The water? 15 or 16 degrees (60 F). Cold as ice, but not too bad when you’re wearing a surf-shorty under your 6mm wetsuit, gloves, and booties.
The crazy little things we do for love.
It all looks tranquil enough at the dock.
Suit up.
I'm smiling. But I'm not. But I am. Oh, I don't know.I'm just rolling with the tides.
Here we go. Yay?I DO love diving. Well, now. But this weekend had me questioning my decision to continue with the sport. I also questioned my sanity. 'Cause I be cray-cray. Four days. Eight dives. Cold water. Choppy sea. And nearly ZERO visibility.
Day One:
Dive one: 10-meter dive (31 feet for 30 minutes). One-meter (three feet) of visibility. It was okay. But where the hell are the pretty fishies? We performed a few “tasks”- taking our masks off, putting them back on, pretending we had run out of air (sharing the spare regulator), and using our parachutes to signal our climb.
Dive two: 9.5-meter dive (twenty-four minutes). No visibility. Maybe five inches at best? Did you see the fish? Maybe it was a squirrel? A squirrel of the sea?
Day Two:
Dive one: 21-meter dive (63 feet for 20 minutes). One foot of visibility. We descended by the anchor, where Jean-Luc attached a string. The other diver and I followed the string, otherwise known as le fil d’ariane. Saw a couple of fish--when they were five inches from my face. Why, hello.
Dive two: 11-meter dive (33-feet, 25 minutes). Better visibility. I saw two crabs. Humping. I didn't interrupt them.
Day Three:
Dive one: 10-meter dive (30-feet, 28 minutes). Tried a nitrox bottle. (34% oxygen/66% air) Saw a brown fish. Blah!
This next dive sucked. Big time. It’s also the reason I’m referring to Jean-Luc as “the frog” (again) in this post. Like, dude, where’s the romance? Are you trying to get rid of me?
Dive two: 8-meter dive (5 minutes). No visibility. ZERO. It was so bad the frog lost me and the other diver. I saw his flippers disappear into darkness. I waited for him to return. Alone. In a sand storm. I panicked at first, yes. Then I got mad, muttering every curse word under the sun, hard to do with a regulator in your mouth. I counted for ten seconds, as instructed. I paddled a couple of feet. Still nothing. Then, I said, “What the hell am I doing? I want out! Like now.” My inside voice said, "I'm going to kill the frog. And it will be a painful death." Slowly, I finned my way to the surface (alone) and made my way back to the boat. Don’t worry. I was trained for this kind of situation.
Jean-Luc popped to the surface a couple of minutes later, the other lost diver following suit.
"Want to come back in?" asked Jean-Luc.
Uh. Hell no. Was he crazy? Not my idea of a good time. And I didn't want to lose whatever passion I had left for the sport.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" I said.
Day Four made up for everything...
Day Four:
Dive one: 23-meter dive (21 minutes). No visibility at first. ZERO. I grabbed onto the handle of Jean-Luc’s air bottle so I wouldn’t lose him. Again. The other diver held onto the spare regulator. We were like little fish, hanging onto the frog. For five minutes, we saw nothing but blurry shapes and blackness. Then, all of a sudden, the sea opened up. Woo-hoo! We had at least four meters (12 feet) of visibility and the creatures of the sea performed a little show. IT WAS FANTASTIC! The coral was purple. Tiny, spiny lobster peeked out from rocks. Beautiful Angel fish! Black fish with Flamenco- style dress tails! Bring it on!
Dive two: 10-meters dive (40 minutes). Simply awesome. Octopuses inking. Jellyfish a blinking. And beautiful Mediterranean fish galore. (Some ugly ones, too, but who am I to pass judgment...)
Unfortunately, due to the mostly nasty dive conditions, I wasn’t able to obtain my PE-40, as we needed to dive at least 35-feet. But there’s always next time. Watch out Spain! Here I come. I’ll be in your waters at the end of June. Damn straight. I'm doing it again. As the frog put it, "If you can handle adverse conditions, just think how easy and enjoyable it will be with the good."
My inner chant goes somewhat like this: Maldives! Australia! Thailand! Bora Bora! Seychelles! And so on...
I want to dive with dolphins, swim with turtles and manta rays and whales, while discovering the this magnificent under water world of ours...in crystal clear waters. Yep. One day I hope to check these dreams off my bucket list. Until then, though, I'm still in training.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Lunch on the beach. Yep. Very beautiful...and soothing for frazzled nerves.
An apéro!
We stayed at a "camping site" called Mer et Soleil, where you can rent 'bungalows' or a patch of land to pitch your tent or park your camping car. Sure, it's a mobile home.
Off season, our little two bedroom was 60 euro/night. In season? Triple the cost.
The fully equipped kitchen (save for an oven) helps the budget!
Mer et Soleil is a five-star camping resort, complete with a pool...
and nightly entertainment.
Yeah. Quite interesting. Let's scare the kids? Nah, the kids loved this guy. Girl? Whatever. All in all, it was an excellent long weekend. The bad conditions just prepared me to be a better diver.
I feel a song coming on.
"At first I was afraid...I was petrified...Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side..."
But I SURVIVED! I survived. Hey, hey!
And, damn it, if I'm not proud of myself.
May 27, 2014
Tuesday Travels: Le Prieuré de Marcevol
This past Sunday, five good friends (two Americans, une Française, and two Canadians) drove a little over two hours to find some sun and do a little hiking. Le Prieuré de Marcevol was a recommended randonée (hike) in one of the local magazines, so we loaded up the car with backpacks filled with water and a gourmet picnic lunch...and the adventure began. Soon, rolling hills replaced the flat urban sprawl of Toulouse, the buildings replaced with forests and mountains. This is seriously one of the bonuses of living in France-- within two hours the landscape changes quite dramatically. We girls were getting back to nature!
Two Americans, Une Française, and Two Canadians getting out of the city.
We've arrived!
Let the hiking begin-- 1 hour and twenty minutes (mostly uphill) to Marcevol.
The red stripe means were headed in the right direction! So far, so good!
A walk in nature with a view.
After trailing it, we made it to our destination: Le Prieuré de Marcevol.
We took in the views and had a nice picnic lunch.
Our neigh-bors!
A door! Let's explore!
The Prieuré de Marcevol dates back to the 17th century.
One of the paintings on the walls that hasn't been completely destroyed.
Throw in a beautiful village to explore.
And life is good!
Great hike, great lunch, great discoveries, and great friends.
It took us forty five-minutes to hike down the trail (so much easier), even though it began to drizzle out. But what's a little water? In fact, it felt great. After the two hour drive back to Toulouse, we closed the day off with a last minute BBQ chez moi. Thankfully, the frog is always happy to entertain. And I, for one, went to bed that night feeling tired and content.
Two Americans, Une Française, and Two Canadians getting out of the city.
We've arrived!
Let the hiking begin-- 1 hour and twenty minutes (mostly uphill) to Marcevol.
The red stripe means were headed in the right direction! So far, so good!
A walk in nature with a view.
After trailing it, we made it to our destination: Le Prieuré de Marcevol. 
We took in the views and had a nice picnic lunch.
Our neigh-bors!
A door! Let's explore!
The Prieuré de Marcevol dates back to the 17th century.
One of the paintings on the walls that hasn't been completely destroyed.
Throw in a beautiful village to explore.
And life is good! Great hike, great lunch, great discoveries, and great friends.
It took us forty five-minutes to hike down the trail (so much easier), even though it began to drizzle out. But what's a little water? In fact, it felt great. After the two hour drive back to Toulouse, we closed the day off with a last minute BBQ chez moi. Thankfully, the frog is always happy to entertain. And I, for one, went to bed that night feeling tired and content.
May 7, 2014
L’amour! Encore l’amour! Toujours l’amour!
We met at a café in Paris the summer of '89. I was nineteen. He was twenty-six.
After a 24-hour whirlwind romance, I left him standing on a train platform at
Gare de Lyon on July 24th, 1989.
He wrote me seven love letters in an attempt to
keep the spark between us lit.
But I never wrote him back...until twenty years later.
We rekindled our unfinished romance in August of 2009...
..and discovered there was only one path for us.We married in a civil ceremony in France
on May 7th, 2010.
But why marry the love of your life once... when you can marry him twice?
On July 24th, 2010 we tied the knot again,
celebrating our union with our
family and friends at my parent's home in California.
Jean-Luc is-- and will always be -- my prince charmant (even when he teases me).
And I'm his American princess-- most of the time.
Today is our 4th wedding anniversary.We've had our ups and our downs, our highs and lows.
It's called life.
Open communication and love (glorious love)
have glued us (a rocket scientist and a writer) together.
Happy Anniversary, mon coeur.
Sometimes love really does give you a second chance.
Je t'aime très fort. Je t'aime.
(comments are disabled...)
May 1, 2014
May Day! May Day! The First of May- A Holiday in France (with pictures!)
The First of May is a holiday in France, known as La Fête du Travail (National Labor Day) or La Fête du Muguet (Lily of the Valley Day). Oddly, the whole 'labor day' movement in France began in Chicago (where I consider my 'roots') in 1886, when the American Unions campaigned for 8-hour work days. In 1889, France chose May 1st as their 'labor day,' to commemorate the Chicago events.
But The First of May is not all about work and no play. There's some romance, baby!
Since the early 1900s, it's been a tradition for men to offer sprigs of lily-of-the- valley (muguet in Français, and pronounced mew-gay) to their sweethearts. Today, it isn't uncommon to offer flowers to close friends, family members, or neighbors. (I lucked out! I received two bouquets today- one from my husband, who ran out this morning when I was showering, and one from neighbors).
Every year, my little town south of Toulouse hosts a grand marché. Believe me, there is something for everyone-- blocks and blocks of stalls, selling everything from cheeses to clothes and soaps to saucissons. Later this evening, a New Orleans style jazz band will play center stage. There will be wine and dancing and revelry. Am I going back? You betcha'!
Until then, enjoy these photos...
Say cheese!
This little piggy went to the market...
Sail away!
But not too far!
Beautiful craftsmanship and details, but tiny boats (not fit for humans!)
My husband's idea of heaven: different varieties of saucissons- fig, pepper, nuts...
Lots of people out and about.
You'll need a basket to carry your breads and cheeses...
For the little ones...
Let's go fish...uh, ducks!
I LOVE all the wonderful soaps.Happy First of May! Please accept some 'virtual muguet' and a Gros Bisous from Toulouse!
xox
Samantha
April 15, 2014
Seven Letters from Paris- Cover Reveal and ARC tour!
Well, here it is. The cover for the US edition of SEVEN LETTERS FROM PARIS! And it's beautiful, gorgeous, and OH MY GAHHHHH! The hummingbird holds a special place in my heart and is symbolic in the story. Oh my stars! I'm doing the happy dance. (But not to Pharrel Williams. They seriously play that song way too much in France).
At the end of May, I will receive 5 advance copies of SEVEN LETTERS FROM PARIS. I'm planning on an ARC (advanced reader copy) tour for three of them. You'd read my memoir (w/in a week)...and then send it on to the next person on a list I would provide. The catch? All I want is an honest Amazon/Goodreads review on October 1, when the book is released to the public. Apparently having at least 20 reviews on the pub date helps. Space is limited! Five spots have been filled up. Twenty-five are left. (Two tours are slotted for the US-twenty readers- and one for the UK/Europe- ten readers). To my friends in OZ- I hope to do a tour too with the Aussie edition. I'm not leaving you out! Okay, so. What's my memoir about? And why do you want to read it? Glad you asked...
As Heidi Klum would say: are you in or are you out? Sign up for the ARC tour using the form below! (Don't worry your deets will be kept private and I'll email you to coordinate dates. The tour will take place from June until late September. I know some of you have summer vacations planned!)
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Please help me spread the word! Use the social links buttons (Twitter, G+, and Facebook) in the comment form. And don't forget to add SEVEN LETTERS FROM PARIS to your Goodreads! (This makes me so happy I may just dance to 'Happy'). Thank you so much! I can't believe I'll have a real book in my hands soon. This has been one looooooong journey!
March 25, 2014
Thoughts on a Tuesday: Live a BIG and BEAUTIFUL life
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We’re all human. We’re all afraid of rejection, of failure, or of having our hearts broken. Some of us are even scared of (insert your greatest fear here). The problem with fear, though, is it handcuffs us to iron chairs, keeping us from fulfilling our dreams, discovering new things, opening up our hearts, and living the lives we are truly capable of living.
It’s time to kick fear to the curb.
Six years ago I made the conscious decision to stop living a small life. In order to get over my fears, I knew I had to face them head on-- like a bull charging through the streets of Pamplona. At first, it was terrifying. Because how does a frightened mouse become a ferocious bull?
The answer is quite simple: one mouse step at a time.
Through a whole lot of soul searching, I pinpointed the issues holding me back from living a big life. In my case, I was petrified of opening up my heart because I had ‘abandonment issues,’ due to the fact my biological father deserted my mom and me when I was six months old. Now, just replace my issue with yours. It could be you’re feeling insecure because you’re heavier than you’d like to be, or because you weren’t popular in high school, or because (insert your own self-doubt here).
But here’s the thing. We can’t control the world from spinning or control what other people think, feel, or do. The only thing we can control is the way we feel about ourselves. We are ALL human. And we are ALL worthy of LOVE. Some people will ‘get’ and embrace the lovable you. And other people won’t.
Once I realized that, I asked myself what I was so afraid of? Was I the kind of woman who wanted to live a life filled with regret because I was afraid to take risks? To me, a failure is somebody who doesn’t follow their dreams, who doesn’t take every chance they get to live and to love big.
And that’s when I kicked fear in the ass and I became fearless. Oh, believe me, my life changed for the better and I’m doing things I’d never thought I’d be able to do. Seriously, hook my ankles to a bungee cord. At first, I’d tremor with fear, but then I’d jump. (Fear can be a motivator if used correctly...)
Just call me Sammy the Bull.
When I opened up my heart, I rolled with the crazy, no longer fearful of rejection. I also promised myself I would dare to live and to love big. It's amazing what happens when fear leaves your system.
To my writer friends: get out there! Send those finely tuned queries out! Or email a famous author asking her to blurb your book! If you need to rewrite your passion project...just do it. Don’t let rejection get you down. To my friends looking for love: open up your heart. You just may be surprised to where it leads you. To anybody who is letting fear stand in their way of achieving their dreams...become a bull and face your fears. Head-on, baby. (Fine. You’ll have nerve wracked, heart palpitating moments... but as they say- no risk; no reward!)
We all live. We all learn. And we all (as far as I know) only have one life. So get out there and live a big and beautiful and passion-filled life. Lose the naysayers. Believe in yourself.
"Live! Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death"- Auntie Mame.
Never let fear hold you captive.
If it isn't too personal, I'd love to know: what's holding you back?
March 3, 2014
Seven Questions with Jennifer Barclay, author of Falling in Honey
I usually post my seven-question interview of Wednesdays, but today is really special. My very own agent's memoir, Falling In Honey, will be released tomorrow, March 4th, in the US!RAISE A VIRTUAL GLASS AND TOAST THE AMAZING JENNIFER BARCLAY!
I first discovered Jennifer while researching the types of memoirs my now publisher, Sourcebooks, was acquiring before I sent my pitch off. Eventually, Jennifer and I connected on Twitter. And then we started exchanging emails. One thing led to another and Jennifer agreed to represent little ol' me.
I WAS THRILLED!
Which brings me back to Jennifer's memoir.
I read the UK edition of Falling in Honey this past November. A true armchair escape, I found myself discovering the small island of Tilos right along with Jennifer, and pondering how life's simpler pleasures — like taking the time to stop and smell the honey and savoring every moment – can change your entire perspective towards life. Jennifer weaves a wonderful tale, introducing us to the Greek culture while searching for her inner happiness and mending a broken heart. But, in the end, Jennifer's love affair isn't with a man; it's with an island, and, more importantly, herself.
Falling in Honey is written from the heart– one of those feel good reads that transports you. Today, I'm thrilled to introduce you to both Jennifer and her beautiful story.
About Falling in Honey: How a Tiny Greek Island Stole My Heart
by Jennifer Barclay
"I came here looking for some kind of happiness. I think it might be the cleverest thing I have ever done."
One heartbroken winter, Jennifer decides to act on her dream of moving to a tiny Greek island – because life is too short not to reach out for what makes us happy. Funny, romantic and full of surprising twists, Falling in Honey is a story about relationships, tzatziki, adventures, swimming, Greek dancing, starfish… and a bumpy but beautiful journey into Mediterranean sunshine.
'Barclay's beautiful memoir recalls both Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love and the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding...' - Booklist
I've asked Jennifer seven questions about life and l'amour.
1) In Falling in Honey, instead of falling in love with another man after a traumatic break-up, you leave your life in London and find solace on the small Greek island of Tilos. What was it about this island and/or the Greek culture that awakened your inner happiness?
Thank you, Sam!
There’s something about the dramatic intensity of the landscape here that speaks to me; I love it when it feels empty, abundant, wild, untamed, untamable… I grew up in a village in the north of England surrounded by rugged hills and wild open spaces, and we also spent part of every year in the Scottish Highlands; Tilos feels like all that combined with all the sunny, warm Greek island holidays I had with my family when I was a child. When I went to Greece to teach English after finishing university, I found life a constant adventure, an escape from the grey, the dull and the difficult. Here I often walk through lush countryside bursting with wild flowers, dive off a beach of pink sand into clear, deep blue sea where I can watch the fish, then dry off in the sunshine…That seemed, to a person disappointed by love, a more reliable route to happiness.
2) As an expat living on a tiny island, what are some of the frustrations you’ve faced? Do you ever get island fever?
I’ve been pretty lucky actually in that respect. The difficulties – which I felt most acutely in my first winter – were mostly of my own making, for example committing to an English class for some island kids on Fridays, without thinking that Friday was the only day I could take the boat off the island. Since that first year I’ve learned a few things about life on a tiny island; e.g. at the first sign of a storm, unplug all cables – rain here means lightning that can burn a modem in seconds – and where are you going to get a new one?!
The main hilarious frustration at the moment is that we haven’t had a functioning ATM machine on the island for over two months – and you can’t pay for anything with a card. Last week I managed to get some cash thanks to a friend, so a gang of us went out for dinner, and enjoyed it all the more because we’d waited so long. The village shop yesterday didn’t have any fresh vegetables because the supplier forgot to put them on the boat. But when I went to pay my rent, my landlord gave me potatoes he’d just dug up, and fresh mandarin oranges that smell amazing, and I have a lemon tree in my courtyard for fresh lemons…
Every now and then I feel the need to be in a big buzzing city, so I go to Athens or London, have a blast and spend loads of time with family and friends, and then look forward to getting back to Tilos.
3) Moving to a foreign country by yourself is an extremely brave undertaking. Would you consider yourself to be an adventuress?
I like to think I’m a little bit adventurous, but coming to live here was simply something that I knew I wanted to do, a dream that had been with me for a long time, which I finally felt in a position to put into action. I’ve lived in several countries and I think I’ve taken good things from everywhere I’ve stayed for any length of time. I already spoke some Greek when I moved here, and had my own work. There are people who’ve moved here without a source of income, or easy way of going back or moving on – that’s brave!
4) How has your life become more simplified? More complicated?
Life has become simpler because I know what makes me happy – writing, editing books from home, walking my dog, swimming in the sea, reading, eating good food, spending time with friends. Some people think that because life is simpler, it’s slower; but in fact I’m mostly pretty busy. For the last couple of summers I was helping in a busy kantina on the beach in the mornings, doing my own work in the afternoons, walking the dog in the evenings, and there was often a dinner out or a festival at night with traditional dancing til late… In the winter here you have to cook for yourself more, bake your own bread and cakes, which is time-consuming but fulfilling. But I do take the time to appreciate my surroundings – sometimes I’ll just stand and watch the stars or the moon.
5) If there was one lesson or thought you’d like readers to leave Falling in Honey with, what is it?
Life is too short not to reach out for what makes you happy. A friend of mine died last year in an accident, and once again it reminded me to do what you love every day.
6) How did you come up with the title? What does falling in honey mean?
In my book, there’s a Greek friend who uses the phrase to mean falling in love. Isn’t that a wonderful image? Coming to a sticky end… but what a way to go! Drowning in sweetness… Tilos is famous for its honey and I found my new life here very sweet, living next door to a honey factory.
7) What’s next for Jennifer? Have you fallen in honey?
This little island still makes me happy and feels like home. Although it’s small (about 14 km by 5 km), its shape is complex with lots of hills and coves, and there are still walks I haven’t done, beaches I want to go back to when I’m not so busy with work; our permanent population is only 500 people but there are still people I don’t know or would like to spend more time getting to know. As readers of my blog know, I’m continually amazed by how much there is to explore here; so much more to write about. I also want to explore other Greek islands – there are hundreds I’d like to see or re-visit. Coming to live here was one of my better ideas…
Thank you, Jennifer, for taking the time to answer my questions. I'm once again inspired to pack up my bags and head to Tilos-- what a way to go!
Buy Falling in Honey or Add it to Your Goodreads
Amazon (US edition, available March 4th, 2014)
Book Depository
Add Falling in Honey to your Goodreads
Connect with Jennifer
Goodreads
Jenifer's Personal Blog
Jennifer's Work Blog (Agenting/Editing)
Twitter @JenBarclayBooks
February 18, 2014
I Neknominate YOU to share this
There is a sick and twisted phenomena floating around the Internet. It's called Neknomination, originating in Australia, and now spreading through Europe and the UK. Guess what, peeps. The US is next. Be prepared.
So, what the hell is Neknomination?
Urban dictionary defines "neknominate" as "the mating ritual of Aussie Bogans, who in order to demonstrate their penis length/girth and demonstrate their readiness and desire to mate with other Bogans, must chug a full beer on video, and then nominate another Bogan to do the same. Most commonly practiced before a night taking the Commo out to Chapel Street, downing a slab at Bazza's place, or hitting the drags at Dandy."
It started with chugging beer. Since then, it's become an online drinking game, where an idiot films themselves drinking, and then challenges another person to top them by drinking more. By more, I mean glasses of grain alcohol or tequila or vodka -- one after the other.
Five victims of this "cool" game have already been claimed in the UK. And, just yesterday, The Daily Mail reported anybody who 'neknominates' somebody could face manslaughter charges.
I'm a pretty cool step-mom. My kids talk to me and I won't betray their trust by outing their secrets to their Dad. Hey, I did a lot of stupid shit when I was young. I know. I remember. I did 'telephone calls' with a tap from a keg. I'm not a hypocrite. But when my daughter tells shows me the below video, thinking I'll laugh, cool mom vanishes and super-parent mode kicks in.
Watch this. If you laugh, your moral compass needs a serious tweaking.
This HILARIOUS video came with a disclaimer: NO REAL Drugs or Alcohol were actually consumed!! This video is for entertainment purposes ONLY!
Okay, kids, entertain these thoughts.
1) People have died from drinking like that— not a joke, and certainly not entertainment, even in a parody with America's most 'beloved' clown. (God, I hate clowns).
2) The Internet is freaking forever. You want a job? Great. I'll just do a Google search. When I find your neknominate video, you're out of the running. I'm going to choose the smart kid, the one who didn't make a video of himself chugging two pints of tequila and then throwing up the worm.
3) Experimenting is fine. Succumbing to peer pressure is not. Because guess what? You could DIE.
4) Or you may face manslaughter charges because of your stupidity.
5) And what about rape? Yes, rape. When José Cuervo has rendered you incoherent and immobile, anything can happen.
As a parent, I'm pissed. I'm worried. And rightfully so.
As a parent, I want to my kids to come to their own decisions. I know if I say 'don't do that,' chances are they will. What I do is open up the lines of communication. We can agree to disagree, but, damn straight, I'll present the facts.
And I neknominate you to share this.
February 14, 2014
Happy Valentine's Day (and a Letter)
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My Love,Your first look this morning will turn to this message, and in my words you will see all the love that I carry for you. When we met, you were just a teenager and I was a young man, but a page of love was already writing itself— one page in a history book, our history with a capital H. This book was then closed as quickly as it was opened. Then one day in May 2009, twenty years later, the book was opened and the blank pages were filled with words of love... again and again. This is what I did, what we did, every minute, every hour of every day since the month of May. I've got your heart in my hand and I will protect it as a priceless treasure. My words are never wasted when they speak or sing of My Love for You. The book is open today ... Love ... on this first Valentine's Day that we share for the first time. My heart beats for you as it never has previously beaten. I am faithful to your soul and your body. I am faithful to our oath. I'm faithful to my commitment. I am a man so in love, with you my princess, my beauty, my belle. I love you.
Happy Valentine’s Day. (Excerpt from Seven Letters From Paris, Written by Jean-Luc, Valentine's Day, 2010).
Jean-Luc doesn't write me love letters anymore, but doesn't need to. For us, every day is a celebration of LOVE, as I hope it is for you and yours too.
