I just joined a lovely group of women mystery writers on a new blog.

THE MYSTERISTAS

We’re mystery writers who love to talk about reading, writing, and other relevant topics.

Please join us in an interactive tweeting session on Wednesdays at 1 p.m. Hashtag: #mysteristas

Meanwhile, check out our page: http://mysteristas.wordpress.com/

The lovely Cynthia Kuhn put together the page, including suggesting we all get Mad Men Avatars. Too much fun. Also, check out the ABOUT page to see how we all “look”. (Mine is above!)

xoxo

Kristi

ROASTED ASPARAGUS AND EGGS

Ingredients:
1 bunch asparagus
Olive Oil
Salt
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
4 large eggs
2 ounces shaved Parmesan

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Toss asparagus with oil and season with salt. Bake on baking sheet about 15 minutes or until tender.
2. Meanwhile, in small saucepan, heat balsamic vinegar and sugar over medium high until reduced to a syrup.
3. Fill large skillet with about 2 inches of water and bring to simmer. Add cider vinegar and season with salt. Break egg into mug or small bowl and then tip into skillet, one at a time. Cook until whites set and yolks soft but nearly set.
4. On four separate plates, arrange asparagus and drizzle with balsamic syrup and sprinkle with Parm shavings.

I have so many things to say about Mickie, but I’d rather she do most of the talking. But here’s just a smidgen about her: Mickie not only has the coolest name, she’s ultra talented in so many areas: writing novels, writing films and documentaries, and taking photographs. She’s just overall cool and I’m honored to be friends with her.

1.  Describe your writing routine and/or schedule.

I wish I could say something like, ‘I write for two hours every morning, or, I write until I come up with 1000 words. Or even, I write everyday. I don’t have a routine. When I’m in the throws of a story, I write in the morning, I come back to the computer to write at night. Sometimes, I write as I work (in my head). Or while taking a walk. I write in the car when I’m listening to NPR. I will pull over and talk new ideas into my phone; sometimes I do it while I’m still driving, to the detriment of myself and everyone around me on the road.  I work best when I’m under pressure. Like when I have to submit to my writer’s group. I’m pretty faithful to coming up with something every two weeks, for the times we meet.

2. What do you do if you get writer’s block?

I cry. No, I wander around the house and outside and try to imagine scenes. I don’t get stuck too often, but when I do, it helps to break things down into itsy bitsy parts. If I need to write a chapter about a discovery the protagonist makes, or new mayhem, I write a broad outline of things and events and then, one word underneath each idea. Then I tackle one sentence at a time. This madness does occur from time to time.

3.Who do you read, or recommend other writer’s read, in regards to craft?

Stephen King’s On Wriing and  Eudora Welty’s On Writing.  Two smart people who came up with the same title. Interesting, right? Classes and books are helpful and necessary in the beginning, but to sustain life as a writer and sane person, I recommend a really good writer’s group. After a few times, after getting to know each other, the critiques you get, and more importantly, the critiques you write, teach the best. Every time I leave my writing group, not only do I feel like I’ve learned something I could use to improve my story, but I also learned so much about the world from invested and like-minded participants.

4. What do your read for fun.

Suspense. I like reading European writers—just to see what’s going on across the ocean. And I just love that unself-conscious way they write about flawed characters and flawed lives. A breath of fresh air. Lately, I’m really into Benjamin Black, Sophie Hannah, Minnette Walters, Reginald Hill, Henning Menkel.

5. When did you first know you wanted to be a writer? Tell us about it.

When the Coca Cola truck drove through my neighborhood giving away writing tablets. The cover was yellow with Coca Cola Advertising on the front. Inside were lined white pages. Yummy, I started writing stories. I was in second grade. In sixth and seventh grade, I wrote a lot of poems and essays. One poem was about wanting to be a writer in order to escape from the world.

6. What advice would you give an aspiring writer.

Try everything.

7. What do you think is the most important skill to have to succeed as a writer?

The want. The passion. Figure out the discipline later.

8.What is your favorite food and/or drink?

I love sushi. I love trying new things. If it involves fish and home-grown veggies, and flavorful and exotic herbs and spices—I’m in.  I love tea—all kinds of flavors. And Belgian beer and white wines. I prefer to drink and eat outside on a sunny day.

9. Do you have a favorite book or movie?

Too many too count—but okay – just for now, just for this:  One Hundred Years of Solitude and Satyricon.

10. Is there anything else I didn’t ask you that you’d like to share.

Wow, the podium all to myself. So . . . I am tremendously grateful to so many whom I’ve Ioved and who loved me back, and for all of the shared experiences – too sappy? It’s all I think about these days.

Born and raised in Minneapolis, Mickie Turk has worked independently and commercially in film, photography and journalism, for the past 20 years. She wrote, directed and produced several films, both short and feature-length narratives and documentaries. Wayward Girls, which appeared in festivals and on PBS, can be found in libraries across the United States and Canada.

Between 1992 and 2004, Mickie traveled extensively to photograph and film. Included were four trips to Cuba–during the last expedition she brought back a rare Cuban shorts film festival to show at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design–a gazillion times to New Orleans and the south generally, and to visit family in Russia and Ukraine.

In the past eight years, Mickie completed three novels, several feature-length screenplays, a variety of short stories and memoirs, and continues to write for a number of Minnesota journals.

One of Mickie’s favorite activities is keeping up with her globetrotting daughter, whose travels have included Peace Corps service in Bulgaria and teaching English in South Korea.

Here’s Mickie’s blog:  http://www.mickieturkauthor.blogspot.com/

Here’s the Amazon/Kindle site (The Delilah Case) : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00833790A

When you are a writer, there is often a story behind the story.

Last week, my writer’s group reviewed the first few chapters of my second novel in the Gabriella Giovanni series, BLESSED ARE THE MEEK. One of the other writers snickered about this passage:

“He didn’t get into the car naked. They found his clothes in the car. I’m sure whoever was wearing those lacy white panties had something to do with getting them off of him.” It’s not the first time I’ve written about a naked car crash victim. The last naked guy I wrote about was drunk and masturbating when he caused a four-car wreck.

After listening to the comments from my fellow writers, it was my turn to talk and I shared the story behind the story in that last sentence:

When I was a cops reporter at the Monterey Herald newspaper, I was making my routine cop calls when the sergeant on duty told me he had a good one for me.

I couldn’t wait.

He told me a hilarious story — and gave me really great, sarcastic quotes — about a drunk guy driving down the road masturbating. The story got funnier and funnier because the guy was combative with the ambulance crew, punching and kicking and they could barely keep ahold of him because his naked body kept slipping out of their grasp. It was a good story. Short and sweet. It didn’t get a whole lot of play in the paper and was buried on an inside page somewhere. But people found it. And loved it.

That weekend, my husband and I went to our favorite breakfast spot where I knew the owners from some previous newspaper story. When we got there, I saw they had taped my naked man story to the wall and we had a laugh about it.

I was digging into my eggs and sausages at a table on the patio when the owner appeared at my side. I looked up. Next to her was Hall of Famer Reggie (FREAKING) Jackson. (Part in parentheses my own addition!)

“Hey, Kristi, Reggie wanted to meet you. He loved your story.”

I practically choked on my hashbrowns. Reggie (FREAKING) Jackson wanted to meet me? Reggie Jackson, football AND baseball player AND Hall of Famer wanted to meet lowly girl reporter.

Okay. That’s cool.

Reggie (hey, we’re technically on a first-name basis at this point) whipped out his wallet, gave me his card, and unfolded a well-worn version of my newspaper story. He told me he’d been carrying it around for a week, showing all his friends.

So, there you go, the story behind the story, which is how writing about a naked drunk driver garnered me an introduction to Reggie (FREAKING) Jackson.

I first heard about David Corbett from the fabulous blog, Murderati. I immediately picked up one of his books and was not disappointed. He is not only a talented writer, but one of those rare writers who can actually teach a bit of his magic to others. I am thrilled he agreed to be on my blog and will be first in line to buy his book, THE ART OF CHARACTER, in January.

Please comment if you have questions as David said he’ll be available to respond.

Here’s David in his own words:

1. Describe your writing routine and/or schedule?

On a good day, I’m at my desk by 7 AM and I write until 2-3 PM. I take a break for lunch and may get back to things from 5-7 PM, at which point I quit for the day. This schedule includes writing for blogs, articles, stories, essays and other requested items as well as fiction, and includes time spent on research.

2. What do you do if you get writer’s block?

Keep writing. Writer’s block is just fear that you’re going to write badly. Admit that your first draft will be execrable and plow ahead.

3. Who do you read, or recommend other writer’s read, in regards to craft?

If I can plug, I’m coming out with a book this January from Penguin titled: THE ART OF CHARACTER, and I believe it’s an excellent and comprehensive text on the craft of characterization.

Oakley Hall’s THE ART & CRAFT OF NOVEL WRITING is one of the best general texts that exists. For more advanced tutelage, I’d suggest: Charles Baxter’s THE ART OF SUBTEXT, Robert McKee’s STORY, John Truby’s THE ART OF STORY, Elizabeth George’s WRITE AWAY; are all excellent. Although I’m not wedded to its approach, Christopher Vogler’s THE WRITER’S JOURNEY is revered by too many people in the business to avoid. For beginners, I’d recommend Jim Frey’s HOW TO WRITE A DAMN GOOD NOVEL.

4. Who do you read for fun?

Most recently I’ve read or am reading: Nicholson Baker’s THE HOUSE OF HOLES, Denise Mina’s THE DEAD HOUR, Ann Patchett’s BEL CANTO and a few non-fiction books, specifically a book on the neurobiology of affection titled A GENERAL THEORY OF LOVE and two history books, FREEDOM JUST AROUND THE CORNER by Walter McDougal and Gordon Woods’s THE IDEA OF AMERICA.

5. When did you first know you wanted to be a writer? Tell us about it.

I wrote poems and such like any dimwit in high school. Then I became a musician and wrote some songs, only seriously turning to fiction after studying acting in my mid-twenties. As I was trying to decide which artistic path to choose — fiction or theater — I got offered a job at a private investigation firm in San Francisco. I took it with the understanding it would form my “years at sea,” giving me the material I would draw upon in my fiction for years to come. It did just that, and more.

6. What advice would you give an aspiring writer?

If you want to write for yourself, keep a journal. Otherwise, remember you’re writing for others — respect them by making what you write worthy of their time.

Also: Learn to write scripts, and don’t rule out writing for the video game industry.

7. What do you think is the most important skill to have to succeed as a writer?

The ability to tell a story. I also think it’s important to have a unique and engaging voice, which is hard but not impossible to teach.

8. What is your favorite food and/or drink?

I’m an omnivore, so that’s rough, but I particularly love the buche (spicy pig belly) tacos from Tacos Jaliscos, my local roach coach.

My favorite cocktail at the moment is a tie between a perfect rye Manhattan, a Negroni, and a nameless concoction a friend invented, a kind of variation on the Jasmine, which is itself a variation on the Negroni (with Cointreau instead of sweet vermouth, plus Meyer lemon juice). I also like an Old Fashioned, but good ones are hard to make or find (they make an excellent one at the Chop House in Oakland).

9. Do you have a favorite book or movie?

Too many to name. I was very much influenced by these books: DOG SOLDIERS by Robert Stone, CLOCKERS by Richard Price, and GOD’S POCKET by Pete Dexter.

A few films I’ve enjoyed immensely: AMORES PERROS, THE SECRET BEHIND THEIR EYES, BELLMAN AND TRUE, SEXY BEAST, WINTER’S BONE.

10. Is there anything I didn’t ask you that you’d like to share?

Again, another bit of shameless self-promotion (thank you, Kristi): On May 15th, my first two novels, THE DEVIL’S REDHEAD and DONE FOR A DIME, plus a short story collection titled KILLING YOURSELF TO SURVIVE, are coming out in ebook format from Open Road Media in collaboration with Otto Penzler’s Mysterious Press.

A video profile of me, prepared by Open Road, can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEyBejWmjjQ

And the books are available for pre-order at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and a number of other online sites.

David Corbett is the author of four novels: The Devil’s Redhead, Done for a Dime (a New York Times Notable Book), Blood of Paradise (nominated for numerous awards, including the Edgar), and Do They Know I’m Running? David’s short fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, including Mission and Tenth, The Smoking Poet, San Francisco Noir and Best American Mystery Stories (2009 and 2011). He has taught both online and in classroom settings through the UCLA Extension’s Writers’ Program, Book Passage, LitReactor, 826 Valencia, The Grotto in San Francisco, and at numerous writing conferences across the US.

Editors note: I am beyond thrilled that my friend and former housemate has agreed to write a guest post — the last one — about life at 2777 Francis Avenue. I know you’ll enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you T. xoxo P.S. The photos are all of the housemates and close friends/family who hung out at our house. (No, I didn’t live with Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick, but Bibbe and her famous father, Al Hansen, were friends with Warhol and regulars at his Factory.)

I am the “Touch me and you die,” girl. Although in my defense, I must say, Satan and I were never more than passing acquaintances and I was never his concubine! What’s more, it wasn’t so much being woken up early that got my goat, (uh oh, is a reference to a cloven hoofed beast evidence of my association with a similar being?), as it was the loud whispering that Kristi and our Danish housemate were doing as they tried to decide whether or not to wake me up. Honestly, I had never before heard whispering that sounded like it was coming through a megaphone!

When I wasn’t threatening to kill my housemates, I was actually socializing with them at the café, going to art openings, to see bands play, etc. Our circle was tight, but not exclusive. We often ventured outside of our little community, but we could just as easily have stayed in and been equally entertained. We had among us poets, writers, musicians, philosophers, comedians, singers, chefs, critics, whistlers, and champion crossword puzzlers. There was never a shortage of conversation or debate.

Our house was a large, old Craftsman style in a part of town that had once been frequented by the rich and famous. It sat in the shadow of the Bullock’s Wilshire. Now an historical landmark, The Bullock’s Wilshire’s clientele at one time included Marlene Dietrich, Alfred Hitchcock, Greta Garbo, Clark Gable, and Mae West. However, at the time we lived there, old Hollywood was long gone and the wealthy shopped further west. The neighborhood fell into neglect and disrepair.

It had become an “unsavory” part of town. Now there were bars on the windows, heavy iron screen doors, and double dead bolt locks. Neighbors kept a wary eye on each other. Along the side of our house was a walkway with overgrown bushes that offered perfect cover for the weary traveler, (read: falling down drunk), to rest his tired bones, (read: to toss back another bottle of Night Train). We were used to the sound of bottles clinking or cans being crushed as the “guests” slunk around in their own debris. However, it’s one to thing to know they’re out there when you are inside. It’s another thing to come home and find them there in the dark. As Kristi mentioned in a previous post, it can be pretty frightening.

One night on the fourth of July, everyone in the house had gone out. Kristi, our Danish friend, and I were the first to return for the evening. As we pulled up to our house, we saw a man sitting on the front porch alongside the steps. He appeared to be smoking, but he also wasn’t trying to hide. Our imaginations collectively engaged and we immediately assumed he was the lookout for whoever was inside. No doubt they were big, scary guys, cleaning us out of all our thrift store purchased treasures. Kristi, our driver, turned her little car around and headed back out to the big street that intersected ours. We figured more traffic would increase our chances of finding a cop and we were right.

We spotted one right away and flagged him down. We told him that we lived right down the street and there was a suspicious man sitting on our porch and we didn’t want to go in our house without a man who was carrying a gun and wasn’t afraid to use it. OK, I just added that last part. Still, I’m pretty sure we were sufficiently frantic to persuade him to follow us home. On the way there, we saw the guy walking down the street. SCREEECH!

Kristi slammed on her brakes and we pointed him out to the cop. If memory serves, there was another police officer who put him into his car for questioning. Meanwhile, the first cop went home with us and entered the premises first. As he went through each room, we commented on whether we thought anything had been removed. Living room – clear. Dining Room – clear. Kitchen and laundry room – clear.

The downstairs back bedroom belonged to our Danish friend and her boyfriend at the time, who happened to be the son of the red-haired lady of the house. They were, shall we say, “artsy”. By artsy, I mean, not overly concerned with the oppressive nature of housekeeping, making a bed, or folding and putting away clothes.

When the cop walked into this room he probably thought he had found the scene of the crime. There was no sign of the floor underneath the strewn clothes and I think I even saw him walking on tip-toe. The three of us looked at each other, not quite knowing what to say, but when we noticed the cop was also at a loss for words we immediately assured him, “Oh, it always looks like this.”

He noticed, too, that the bars on the window were unhitched and we had to tell him that was not unusual either. We needed a way to get in should anyone ever forget their key. We had a feeling we were losing credibility fast, so we got him out of there and thanked him profusely. He assured us that he would make sure the guy was driven to the far end of town where he would undoubtedly fall off and never be heard from again. OK. I added that last part too.

Instead of my regular weekend inspirations, I wanted to share the pitch for my novel, BLESSED ARE THE DEAD, that ran in the newsletter my literary agency puts out. If you aren’t Facebook friends with me, you MAY not have seen it! : )

Gabriella Giovanni’s big Italian-American family can’t understand why she chooses her adrenaline-pumping career as a San Francisco Bay Area newspaper reporter over being married with little bambinos running around. Gabriella spends her days on the crime beat flitting in and out of other people’s nightmares and then walking away unscathed. That’s because for twenty years Gabriella has avoided confronting her own dark childhood memories: her sister’s kidnapping and murder followed by her father’s sudden death three days later. That changes in an instant when a little girl disappears on the way to the school bus stop, and Gabriella’s quest for justice and a front-page story leads her to a convicted kidnapper who reels her in with tales of his exploits as a longtime serial killer and promises to reveal his secrets to her alone. Meanwhile, her passion for her job quickly spirals into obsession when she begins to suspect the kidnapper also killed her sister. When the biggest newspaper in town continues to scoop her on the story, Gabriella begins to believe the fate of her career and the mystery of what happened to her sister both lie in the hands of the kidnapper. When he is sprung from jail on a technicality, Gabriella risks her life to meet with him, hoping to find answers that will help her confront her past and heal her deep psychological wounds. Award-winning former journalist Kristi Belcamino‘s debut crime novel, BLESSED ARE THE DEAD, is an atmosphere-rich sojourn that has been compared to Sue Grafton and offers chilling, authentic glimpses into the mind of a psychopath while also mining the psyche of an extremely likeable and sympathetic protagonist. The novel was inspired by Belcamino’s dealings on her crime beat with a serial killer who police and FBI agents linked to the kidnapping and murders of at least two little girls. When the man died in prison two years ago, she was called for a comment. Belcamino’s personal past colors this smart, effective novel that showcases a strong new voice in the market. (Please note, Stacey Glick is the agent on this project.)

http://www.dystel.com/newsletter/newsletter-54-may-2012/

Last Saturday morning we received an invite to come over and hang out at my sister-in-law’s house so the kids could play. My sister-in-law said that we could also all make dinner together. I told her I’d bring the main dish. So I basically made these Saturday morning (up to the very last step – 7) and then covered and refrigerated them. That afternoon, I stuck them in the oven at her place and voila! we had dinner! (I don’t have a picture of the finished dish. I forgot!)

Note: I usually use six or seven apples because my family likes them so much.

Easy and Yummy Pork Chops & Apples

1. Heat over to 300 degrees.

2. Brown chops in skillet

3. Place three to five peeled, cored, sliced apples in greased baking dish.

4. Sprinkle with brown sugar and cinnamon.

5. Dot with butter.

6. Top with chops.

7. Bake 90 minutes or until pork chops are done.

Had a blast taking snapshots for my Thursday post by visiting the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Here is part of the description of Art in Bloom from the MIA website:

Join us for Art in Bloom, a four-day festival of fresh floral arrangements and fine art, presented by the Friends of the Institute at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. This spring celebration highlights the talents of more than 150 floral artists, whose work will be on view next to the works of art that inspired them. 

I first met Peg Cochran through membership in Sisters in Crime. We “met” online and quickly discovered we had a few things in common. We were mystery writers, Italian-American women, and we both LOVE to cook. In fact, the first night I met Owen Laukkanen, I made Peg’s yummy bean salad as one of the side dishes. I can’t wait to meet Peg in person and would love to sit and talk food with her and, of course, eat! She’s been a very encouraging and supporting person in this writing business and I’m so glad we are friends. Here is Peg in her own words:

1. Describe your writing routine and/or schedule?

I wish I had a schedule!  Right now I basically have two books due a year, but they’re back-to-back dates a month apart.  I eat at my desk and write on my lunch hour at work almost every day.  Then I try to do a little writing before dinner and sometimes while cooking dinner (that doesn’t always produce the best culinary results!).  Then maybe another hour or two after dinner. I try to grab a big chunk of time on Saturdays and/or Sundays as well.  It all depends on how close my deadline is looming!

2. What do you do if you get writer’s block?

I don’t get writer’s block per se—as in can’t come up with an idea. At least that’s how I interpret writer’s block.  If the words aren’t flowing, it’s usually because I don’t know where I’m going.  Sometimes that means I need to think through a scene and just scribble it out on paper really roughly–like what needs to be said by whom, where they are, what the room looks like, what they might be doing.

Sometimes I’m just not sure where to go next with the story or I’m at a fork in the road.  Then I tend to brainstorm on paper—just write down all the possibilities and see where they lead.

And have faith!  The words somehow always end up coming!

3. Who do you read, or recommend other writer’s read, in regards to craft?

I’d recommend reading the types of books you want to write first off.  If you want to write cozies, then read some of the best cozies.  If you want to write hard-boiled, reading a cozy, no matter how well-written, isn’t going to do you all that much good.  I also like reading “traditional” mysteries because I think they are helpful no matter which direction you’re going in—P.D. James, Peter Robinson, Deborah Crombie, Val McDermid (hmmm, seems I’m drawn to English authors or authors who write about England!), Julia Spencer-Fleming.  All great story tellers with the ability to make it come alive on the page.

Oh, and A Christmas Carol for some of the most beautiful language in a book. I reread it every year.

4. Who do you read for fun?

All the above plus Janet Evanovich (for humor, you can’t beat her!), Harlan Coben (wonderful at suspense!).  Quite frankly, I don’t do as much reading anymore as I’d like.

5. When did you first know you wanted to be a writer? Tell us about it.

I was around seven years old, and I’d read my first Nancy Drew.  I decided I wanted to write stories like that someday.  I remember when I was around eight or so, my parents acquired a typewriter (the old, manual kind!), and I came up with some excuse to stay home from school so I could write a story on it!  I also used to write plays and force my cousins to perform them at Christmas dinner. Now that they are all at least in their forties, they’ve basically forgiven me.

6. What advice would you give an aspiring writer?

Don’t quit!  If you quit, no matter how good/talented/clever you are, you will not be published.  If you don’t quit…it’s always a possibility!

7. What do you think is the most important skill to have to succeed as a writer?

Perseverance!  (See above).  And a great interest in people, how they work, think, act. An eye for detail and a feeling for language—words are like music, if the rhythm is off, your sentences will fall flat.

8. What is your favorite food and/or drink?

Wine?  I love food of all kinds—Italian, Indian, Chinese, Thai.  I don’t think I could narrow it down to any one thing.

9. Do you have a favorite book or movie?

It’s way too hard to pick just one!  For movies, the ones that I’ve watched more than once, include Gone With the Wind, All About Eve, the Thomas Crowne Affair (remake), Bridget Jones.  I guess for books it would have to be A Christmas Carol since I’ve read it dozens of times and I’m still not tired of it.

10. Is there anything I didn’t ask you that you’d like to share?

Thanks for including me!  I’m still pinching myself that I’m now a *real* writer!

I have two books coming out in 2012 – Allergic to Death (August) is the first in my Gourmet De-Lite series.  Murder Unmentionable is the first in the Sweet Nothings Vintage Lingerie series written under my pen name of Meg London.  It debuts in September.

I also have an e-book out right now from Amazon, Confession Is Murder, first in the Patron Saint Mysteries.
 

Peg Cochran bio:

I grew up in a New Jersey suburb about 25 miles outside of New York City, and we moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan about ten years ago when my husband took a job here.  (I’m on exile from NJ!). Currently I am the manager of marketing communications for a company that provides services to seniors.

I have a schizophrenic cat (really) named Frazzle and a Westhighland White Terrier, Reggie, who appears in my Gourmet De-Lite series.  He likes to think he helped me write the books which is fine as long as he doesn’t start demanding a portion of the royalties!

Disclaimer: I am not a movie or book reviewer and would never attempt to call myself such a thing. I have utmost respect for those who do that. I am just a bookworm and movie lover who wants to share what I’m reading and watching.

BOOKS

CASE HISTORIES by Kate Atkinson. This is an author my friend, Mary Pols, recommended at some point in time. Mary, who wrote ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE, (the book that was turned into a TV show starring Jenna Elfman), once wrote a column for our newspaper where she listed the books she was taking to Maine for her summer vacation. I carried that list around for a year, reading every book on it. And every year since then I’ve begged her for a new list. (Are you reading, Mary?) Well, somewhere along the line she mentioned Kate Atkinson. It’s about time I read it. So far, it is gripping. I can’t wait to put the kids to bed and dig in some more.

MURDER IN THE MARAIS by Cara Black. I’m embarrassed I haven’t read Black yet. I mean, after all, I love mysteries, I love Paris. Enough said. Soon. Soon.

HELL GATE by Linda Fairstein I’m looking forward to reading this author for the first time, as well. You might have noticed that all I read lately is mysteries. Well, it’s sort of  my job to read as my books in my genre as I can. But that doesn’t mean I won’t read a really great book in another genre, so please send any recommendations my way.

(The other books in my To-be-read pile have been mentioned in past Books & Flicks posts.)

FLICKS

DUMA

Thanks to the super cool and awesome MA Talbott, I ordered this for family movie night. I am continually impressed by the calibre of kid’s movies out there. I now look forward to family movie night as much as my kids do. I’m always looking for recommendations, so please send them my way.

PERMANENT MIDNIGHT

This movie, starring Ben Stiller, had me laughing out loud at times, but had some extremely disturbing parts, as well. The film is based on the memoir of Jerry Stahl, a sitcom writer who gets hooked on heroin. My husband and I both cringed as his character shot up with a baby in the carseat beside him. Oh the life of a junkie. But a really decent movie.

GAME OF THRONES

Anyone who has read any of my posts before knows I’m obsessed with this series. It just makes me happy.

Me and some of my roomies at Troy Cafe (I miss my Alice in Wonderland dress!)

This photo, from 1991, brings back such fond memories. As I mentioned, my housemate and her husband owned a super cool cafe in downtown L.A. Here I am hanging out at the cafe with with three of my six housemates. Missing is Bibbe’s husband, Sean Carrillo, her oldest son, and Sean’s sister, my dear friend T, who is doing a guest post next week.

2777 Francis Avenue: The seedier side of our street

Despite the art-filled life we were living inside our house, the neighborhood outside was gangland.
The Mara Salvatrucha gang ruled our neighborhood and left their mark — MS, Mara, and MS-13 — everywhere, including spraypainting it on our house and writing it in the dust on my dirty car windows. It seemed like they all hung out at what I called “the gang house” at one end of the block. Unfortunately, that end of the block was on the way to everything within walking distance from our place: the tastiest Thai food in L.A., the convenience store where we bought our smokes, and even the payphone we used. (Our house didn’t have a phone.)

If I needed to walk past their place, I would lace up my Doc Marten boots, put on baggy jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, and try to put as much “Don’t fuck with me” in my walk as I could. Sometimes they would be sitting on the front porch with music blaring and I would feel a shiver of fear run down my spine. But the most they ever did was yell a random comment or two, which I ignored, holding my breath until I rounded the corner.

Don't even THINK about messing with these badasses

But Sean, who was Chicano, was not so lucky. It seemed they knew some punk white girl was not a threat, but they weren’t so sure about other men. One day he woke up and found all four of his tires slashed.

Another time, his nephew, a sweet, happy-go lucky, talented artist (whose illustrations would later be featured in the New Yorker) drove up on his scooter. He was immediately accosted by gang members who asked him, “Who you with?” After a few minutes, they realized this skinny young kid wasn’t a gang member and in fact, wouldn’t hurt a fly, so they left him alone.

One night, they scared the shit out of me, though. I mentioned before that if you came home late and couldn’t park nearby, you left the neighborhood for an hour or two and came back hoping for a closer parking spot so you didn’t have to walk far. Even then, there was zero talking and a fast-paced walk up to the front door and it’s double deadbolts.

I wouldn't even look sideways at this MS member

One night, I came home alone and felt lucky to find a close spot. But as soon as I parked, a van pulled right in front of me. Crap. Now what? I waited. Two guys got out. Sean had advised me to never make eye contact with a gang member. So, I stared straight ahead out my window as they got out and “split” my car.

That means they each walked on a different side of it as they passed. Gang members do this so they both aren’t gunned down at the same time. Learn something new every day, don’t you? I watched the guy on the driver’s side notice me sitting in my car as he drew near. I held my breath, but kept looking right ahead. He took his finger and slowly drew it across my window at eye level as he passed. My heart was pounding and I was frozen in fear, not daring to look over at him, staring right ahead, but seeing him out of my peripheral vision. As soon as they were a few cars behind me, I started my car and got the hell out there, changing my plans about going home right then.

Another night, my Danish housemate and I came home. Let me back up and say that our standard procedure at night was not to walk up the brightly lit series of steps from the sidewalk to the front porch. Instead, we would creep up the grassy hilled lawn in the shadows so nobody would see us. This time we started up the lawn and two men were standing there in the dark near the house. We both silently did 180-degree turns, went back down the grass and then up the steps, too afraid to even breath. My hand shook as I undid the deadbolts and finally got in the house, slamming the door behind me. We ran, terrified up to Bibbe’s room, and told her what happened. Of course, as I mentioned we didn’t even have a phone to call the police.

Bibbe, a savvy New York born and bred woman, had been mugged several times and thought nothing of going downstairs and confronting the men. But to my surprise, instead of yelling at them to get the fuck off our property, she took a different tact. She told them, in Spanish, that they had scared her daughters, who were good girls, and that they must leave now. To my surprise, the men became supplicating and apologized to her, saying they meant no disrespect and were leaving immediately.

For that day on, my understanding of the Latino and Chicano cultures changed forever. For the majority of them hold honor above all else. I never was as afraid of the gang members in my neighborhood again. They had their own code of ethics and it most likely didn’t involve harassing some college girl minding her own business. Especially when she actually lived in their hood, the area they worked to protect.

Bad asses.

That didn’t mean we didn’t live around some crazy people. One time we pulled into the convenience store. While one housemate was in buying smokes, the other, the future Rolling Stone rock star, went to make a call on the payphone. A few minutes later, he came running back and jumped in the car, locking the door saying some psycho had come after him with a baseball bat.

Another time we were hanging out in the living room talking and a volley of gunfire made us hit the floor. It sounded like it was coming through our front window. We Army crawled through the living room and to the stairs and then peeked out a second-story window but saw nothing.

Police helicopters with giant spotlights were nothing unusual, but they always sent a thrill of excitement through me to hear the sound so close by. One night I was bored and so I sat out on our front porch on the cold cement, silently spying on a man who kept hanging out in the street and watched his drug deal go down. I could probably go on and on, but this post is long enough.

Dear reader, please stayed tuned until next Monday, when I have my last post about 2777 Francis Avenue (but not my last LA Life post), which I’m hoping will be a guest post from one of my favorite housemates (I should clarify: she was one of my favorite housemates as long as I wasn’t trying to wake her up too early in which case she would turn into Satan’s concubine and hiss like the exorcist: “Touch me and you die!!!!!” )

I’ve seen a few versions of this one but to be fair to Regina Brett, I wanted to post her original column.

With that said, I did like one replacement I saw. Instead of number 5 (pay off credit cards), I saw this that I actually prefer: “Don’t buy stuff you don’t need.”

Originally published in The Plain Dealer on Sunday, May 28, 2006

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me.

It is the most-requested column I’ve ever written. My odometer rolls over to 50 this week, so here’s an update:

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.

8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.

12. It’s OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don’t compare your life to others’. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don’t worry; God never blinks.

16. Life is too short for long pity parties. Get busy living, or get busy dying.

17. You can get through anything if you stay put in today.

18. A writer writes. If you want to be a writer, write.

19. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Overprepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don’t wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: “In five years, will this matter?”

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.

35. Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

36. Growing old beats the alternative – dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood. Make it memorable.

38. Read the Psalms. They cover every human emotion.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d grab ours back.

41. Don’t audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

42. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.

43. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

44. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

45. The best is yet to come.

46. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

47. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

48. If you don’t ask, you don’t get.

49. Yield.

50. Life isn’t tied with a bow, but it’s still a gift.

I served these bruschettas, which the same sister-in-law I mentioned above dubbed crack cakes a few years back, saying they were like crack, you couldn’t get enough of them.

Bookclub didn’t have any discussion of the book, but every month I can count on laughing until I cry and this proved no exception.

Fun times.

Here is the recipe for crack cakes. Enjoy.

Date and Blue Cheese Bruschetta

Ingredients:
1 loaf French bread, sliced into 1/2 inch slices
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
Black pepper
8 ounces blue cheese
12-18 dates cut in 1/2 with pit removed
8 oz proscuitto

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Brush both sides of bread with the olive oil and put on baking sheet.

3. Bake for 5 minutes. Flip and bake for five minutes more. Remove from oven.
4. Turn broiler to high and move rack up in oven.
5. Season bread with salt and pepper. Spoon a small amount of cheese onto bread to cover it.

6. Place date halves on bread to cover.

 
7. Broil one to two minutes or until cheese melts and date begins to carmelize.
8. Remove and place piece of proscuitto on top.

 
9. Serve.

Joelle Charbonneau is tied with Donnell Bell for being the most generous, encouraging writer out there. I met her after she judged my novel in a contest and invited me to contact her on the judging form. Since that day, she’s been in my corner, going way out of her way to help me succeed and offering unending encouragement and support. She is a true gem. Joelle is an incredibly hardworking, terrific writer who always weaves a great tale with unforgettable characters. She is also a classically trained singer, an actress and a voice teacher. She does it all! Here is the lovely Joelle in her own words.

1. Describe your writing routine and/or schedule?

Since I have a toddler at home, my schedule has to be more flexible than I’d like. However, the typical routine is answering e-mails in the morning in between dodging the toddler as he races around and running errands. The tot still naps, which means the minute his head hits the pillow in the afternoons, I start typing. I typically get about 2 hours of writing time in during the afternoon before I have to be “mom” again. Once the tot goes to sleep for the evening, I then start writing again. Often you’ll find me at my laptop well past midnight.

2. What do you do if you get writer’s block?

Writer’s block? What’s that? Ha! I am only half kidding. I write every day no matter what. Some days I write less than others, but I am always moving the story forward. I think writer’s block happens most when writers give into the fear of telling the wrong story or worry about how far they still have to travel until they finish the manuscript. I try to focus on what happens next…the next hook…the next line…the next moment. Small steps. If I keep my focus on the path in front of me, I am less scared about the miles that stretch ahead.

3. Who do you read, or recommend other writer’s read, in regards to craft?

I have never been one to read books on how to write. Instead, I read books by authors I love. If I find one that I think is exceptionally well done, I read it over again with an eye on the craft I think has been done well. I believe the best way to really learn is to understand why something works and figure out how to apply that to your own writing.

4. Who do you read for fun?

The one problem with being a published author is that I have less time to read that I once did. I admit that I used to be a 200 book a year kind of girl. Now I’m lucky if I read 30-40 books in a year. Sigh…. However, when I do read, I am a sucker for thrillers (adult or YA), science fiction, fantasy, mysteries and anything that makes me laugh.

5. When did you first know you wanted to be a writer? Tell us about it.

Um….I never actually wanted to be a writer. True story! My love of reading started when I was in first grade and continued through adulthood. I admired writers who could craft such amazing stories, but I never considered joining the ranks. As a professional stage performer, I enjoyed acting out other people’s stories on the stage. About ten years ago, I was in a production of Evita. On the way home from a show, I had an idea for an opening line of a book. It startled me since I had never considered writing. Heck, I’d never even taken an English class in college. (Yes, this is another true story…one for another time!) But, the opening line was stuck in my head so I wrote it down. Since my performance schedule gave me Mondays and Tuesdays off, and most everyone else works on those days, I decided to see if I could add to that opening line. Once I did, I wanted to see if I could actually finish writing the story. When I did, I realized I’d enjoyed the process of figuring out what came next and decided to try my hand at writing something that might be publishable. It took a lot of practice (trust me, no one should ever see those first manuscripts) but finally, I managed to write a manuscript that landed me my fabulous agent and sold to an editor!

6. What advice would you give an aspiring writer?

Write. Ha! This sounds totally lame, but true. Sit down and write. Get to THE END and revise the book and then write another one. In this day and age of self-publishing, it is easy to get swept up in the idea of hitting a button and being published. I think a lot of young writers don’t give themselves time to develop their own unique voice and style. They’re so busy trying to get to the finish line that they don’t really take time to learn what makes their writing special. The only way to develop your writing voice and learn the craft of writing is to write, revise, edit and write some more. For some people this learning process takes years. For others it takes months. Don’t listen to other people’s journeys to being published and assume yours will be the same. Take the time you require to be the best writer you can be.

7. What do you think is the most important skill to have to succeed as a writer?

Self-motivation. Being a writer is a strange job. Unlike a lot of jobs, there is no one looking over your shoulder making sure you get your daily word counts in. There is no one telling you to sit down and write instead of cleaning house or taking a nap or any number of other myriad things that need your attention. Self-motivation is something writers need to learn before ever getting that first contract.

8. What is your favorite food and/or drink?

Popcorn (with real butter and salt) and Diet Pepsi.

9. Do you have a favorite book or movie?

Hmmm….my favorite movies are The Fugitive, Die Hard, Hoosiers and The Rookie. Give me stuff blowing up or great sports films any day of the week. With books, I love to read just about every genre. Some of the books that really made an impression on me growing up were Stephen King’s The Stand and The Tailsman, and David Eddings Belgarion and Malloreon series and Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians (now retitled And Then There Were None).

10. Is there anything I didn’t ask you that you’d like to share?

Nah! Redheads need to keep a few secrets, right?

Joelle Charbonneau has performed in a variety of opera and musical theatre productions across Chicagoland. She now teaches private voice lessons and uses her stage experience to create compelling characters in her books. She is the author of two mystery series: The Rebecca Robbins mysteries (Minotaur Books) and the soon to debut Glee Club mystery series (MURDER FOR CHOIR, Berkley , July 3). Joelle is also the author of the Graduation Day young adult trilogy that will debut with THE TESTING (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Children’s) in Spring 2013. Learn more at www.joellecharbonneau.com

Here’s some info on Joelle’s next book, Murder for Choir:

Even as a struggling opera singer, Paige Marshall has never seen anything like the uber-competitive egos of Prospect Glen High School show choir. As their new coach, she’s getting an icy reception from championship-hungry students who doubt she can take them to a first-place trophy. Toughing this gig out may prove harder than scoring her big break…

Especially now that her best young male singer is suspected of killing the arrogant coach of Prospect Glen’s fiercest rival choir. For Paige to clear his name, she’ll have to sort through a chorus of suspects—and go note-for-note with a killer who’ll do anything to knock her out of the spotlight for good…

Books & Flicks

Books

This week was a bit slow. I am about halfway through KILLING RED by Henry Perez, which features a newspaper reporter and a serial killer and kids. Sound familiar? But the protagonist is a Latino male. I’m really loving this book so far.

And I did finish THE REINCARNATIONIST by M.J. Rose. Really liked it and hope to read more in this series.

Unfortunately that was all I’ve had time to read this week.

Digging the addition of dragons to the storyline

Flicks

Game of Thrones!!!! Thanks to my husband’s connections and know how, we were able to get the first three episodes of Season Two this week. LOVE this show. I haven’t been hooked on a show in this way since Battlestar Galactica! Eagerly awaiting episode four. Didn’t have family movie night this week and looking forward to that again this weekend.

I didn’t just move into a room, I moved into a subculture when I was handed the keys to 2777 Francis Avenue.

Our house, with the double dead-bolted, iron-barred screen door, was a haven for artists. I soon found out that Bibbe was the daughter of a famous performance artist. A picture in a book on Andy Warhol showed her dancing next to Edie Sedgwick at The Factory.

Her husband, Sean Carrillo, was ultra hip in the art scene, too, and had some super cool film background. This couple knew everybody. EVERYBODY. I’m pretty sure Bibbe was Whoopi Goldberg’s maid of honor or something like that. And this couple was friends with everyone and anyone who were famous and cool in the Chicano arts world. It was all a bit mysterious, glamorous, and vague to me. The husband’s sister, a girl my own age, stayed in the nonfiction library. Another bedroom housed one of Bibbe’s sons and not long after, his Danish girlfriend. Before long we were all good friends. We lived at the house, but we also hung out at the cafe, Troy Cafe, that my roommates owned in downtown L.A. on the border of East L.A. in Little Tokyo.

Rolling Stone Boy

One day, I met Bibbe’s older son, who was a year younger than me. He was browsing through the fiction library in what I think was a big straw Panama hat, and what appeared to be an old man’s shirt and pants. A few years later at one of his concert’s, I would see a crowd filled with boys dressing just like him (minus the hat). I’m fairly certain he dressed that way because he didn’t have any money and didn’t give a shit, so he shopped at thrift stores and spent his money on demo tapes to send to record companies.

About a month later, this cute boy musician moved into the room next to mine, a small space overlooking the street. At first, he was really hard to get to know. He would hole himself up in his room and play guitar. He didn’t have a guitar strap, but used a piece of rope he found on the ground. Whenever he would venture out from his room, I would rush to be near him just so I could listen to him play. One day, he was playing guitar on the front porch and a bunch of stray cats gathered around to listen. Magical.

Then one day I had a dream about him. I dreamed we kissed. I told Bibbe about it and she thought it was great. She thought I should marry him and become her daughter-in-law. It sounded good to me. But he was very, very, very shy. And I wasn’t the type of girl to make a move so it never went anywhere.

Within two years, his face was on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine.

Urban Rabbit

In addition to the feral cats, we also had a neighborhood rabbit. We told Bibbe about it. For some reason, one of the cats had adopted the rabbit. They hung out on our urban street together. They were inseparable. You usually saw them at night. One day, we spotted them across the street and ran to get Bibbe. She opened the door, saw the rabbit and the cat snuggling and said, “I’ll be. It is a goddamn rabbit!”

Jack W.

Artists and musicians of all types dropped into our place all the time. I’ll never forget meeting Jack W. He walked in with a crisp white shirt on, skinny black tie and black shorts. He was a beautiful, impeccably groomed Asian boy. He sat down at the piano and played like a superstar, singing and playing for us like he was born to perform Frank Sinatra songs.

Jack and I became friends. I soon noticed that he always wore a tie. He even slept over at our house once and his silk pajamas — as my redheaded roommate would say — had a goddamn tie. “I’m never without a tie,” he told me.

Jack and I would often go watch old movies, such as Brazil and Chariots of Fire on the big screen at the New Beverly Theater. He would always drive us in his BMW. One time, I opened by bag and pulled out my lipstick to apply a fresh coat. I was just pulling down the visor to look in the mirror when Jack swerved to the side of the road. At first, I was confused, but then realized he was being Jack: He pulled over so I wouldn’t smudge my lipstick.

And forget being a woman and trying to light your own cigarette around him. If you happened to beat him to the punch before he whipped out his Zippo, he would pout and act hurt, saying “Please let me light your cigarette for you.”

Same goes with opening doors. He took it personally if you opened your own car door.

My favorite memories of living at 2777 Francis Avenue are the simplest ones. The days we all sat on the floor in the kitchen, lighting our cigarettes from the gas burner, and talking about music, philosophy, books, movies, and art.

Or the nights we sat around singing, drinking, and smoking and laughing deep into the night. Our faces lit by candles and the licking flames of the fire in the hearth nearby. But we had many more adventures than just those …

Dear Reader, will you stay tuned for  more?

“If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.”
― Anaïs Nin

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
― Anaïs Nin

“The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.”
― Anaïs Nin

“Passion gives me moments of wholeness”
― Anaïs Nin

“Writers do not live one life, they live two. There is the living and then there is the writing. There is the second tasting, the delayed reaction.”
― Anaïs Nin