More Tales from Revision Land

Procrastination is my friend. No seriously. We're BFFs.

I'm back in Revision Land, this time doing a line edit and making some minor (and hopefully final!) changes on LOVE STRUCK (which is now officially available for pre-order!).

Note: You can tell it's a minor revision by the number of Post-its. When I'm in writing or first-revision mode, there are more than 30 Post-its in several colours. Now, there are only 7! Yippee.

Still, I don't have a lot of time to do my revisions. I'm on a strict deadline. Which means I should be spending every free minute working on my book.

But I'm not.

Unfortunately, I chose this past week to have my website redesigned. The company I hired promised me that he would work quickly -- I tend to have a bit of a problem when I decide I want to do something (cut my hair, get a manicure, the list goes on and on), I want to do it right now. Not in five weeks. I'm so impatient. The company said it would be no problem.

So now, the real problem is that the guy doing my site wasn't kidding. He's in Holland, which means every morning when I wake up, I've got a new change to my site that I need to approve before noon. I'm very excited, but it means I'm choosing the right colours for my new website rather than words for my book. Yikes.

The good thing about being in Revision Land is that The Hubs gets me dinner so that I don't wander into the kitchen, get distracted and end up watching TV for hours. And Hubs dinners are the best. Today we had our friends over for brunch, so dinner was leftover almond croissants and pain au chocolat from Epi Breads with homemade jams from the farmers' market on King Street West. Maybe that's why I like being in Revision Land for so many days on end...

Why everyone needs an editor...

After finishing the latest revision of Love Struck, I asked The Hubs if he would read it over. He's very good at catching things that I just make up, but which, in reality, make no sense. In Stuck in Downward Dog, he was my go-to guy when it came to Mara's ex-boyfriend's business-y career. He knew why he was leaving and where he was going. And I trust him that when it comes to numbers and suits, it all makes sense.

The Hubs said he'd read the manuscript if I took it to Kinko's and got it double-side photocopied and bound so that the pages wouldn't go flying when we took a trip out west on the weekend. So I did, then he read the book on the plane while I drank red wine and pretended to read a book and discovered a new love for Lionel Richie on XM radio ("Hello! Is it me you're looking for?") But I couldn't focus. As soon as he pulled the top off his pen and circled a word on the page, I just had to know what he was doing.

I looked over as he circled the words "MBA" and "Cambridge". In my mind, I thought it sounded lovely that one of the characters got an MBA from Cambridge. I pictured him eating scones with clotted cream and looking very smart in an argyle v-neck over a shirt and tie.

Me: "Why did you circle that? Can't he get an MBA at Cambridge?" (I had no clue. That's why it's called fiction. I just make it up).

The Hubs: "He can. But I doubt anyone will hire him."

Yikes. I hope no one reading this has an MBA from Cambridge and a job they love. Anyway, the character in question is no longer a Cambridge student. I hope he enjoyed the ride while it lasted.

Mr. Baz's TV debut

Mr. Baz is going to be a TV star!


This weekend we went to a studio so that Mr. Baz could be a part of a documentary that's going to air on TV in a few months.


What is the name of the documentary?

Cat Ladies.


Only, for some reason, everyone keeps calling it Crazy Cat Ladies.

Which, when my good friend heard about this Crazy Cat Ladies production, tipped off the director of the documentary that she had a friend (me) who may or may not (may) dress up her cat every chance she gets.


That's crazy?! Doesn't everyone dress their cat up at some point?

Apparently not, because Mr. Baz was the final cat of the day, and everyone kept telling me how I was the only one who brought their cat dressed up. The only one? Now that's crazy. To me, at least.


"Is it to keep him warm?" the makeup artist (for me, not Mr. Baz. I'm not that crazy that I'd put eyeliner on him) asked me curiously, eyeing Mr. Baz in his Chinese New Year jacket, while he was still inside his carrying bag.


"Um. No," I said.


Obviously she had not seen Mr. Baz in all his glory because if she had she wouldn't worry about him keeping warm. I mean, he's not exactly petite.


Which, to be honest, was quite evident when I changed him into his Valentine's Day sweater for the camera (Of course he has a Valentine's Day sweater. I mean, am I only supposed to dress him up once a year?! Now that's crazy. Especially when he loves dressing up!). Anyway, his V-day sweater may be more of a belly shirt than a full-on sweater. Which, when everyone saw him in it, made them start laughing and I had to tell Mr. Baz we weren't laughing at him. We were laughing with him, because he's just so cute. He's just not as svelte as he was in his younger days. But who is, really?




Actually, I was a bit concerned that our on-camera time was going to be about two seconds, because all the other women who went before me were apparently telling totally sappy stories about their cats. But I didn't really have any sappy stories to tell, unless I was going to talk about when Mr. Baz had to have an operation on his privates because he had crystals and couldn't pee and he had to stay overnight after the surgery and The Hubs went to visit him and stayed for hours and talked to him and the vet thought we were totally crazy and had to tell us that visiting hours were over and that we should go home and get some rest (even though I'm almost positive they don't even have visiting hours and he was totally making that up). Obviously I wasn't going to tell that story because that would mean talking about Mr. Baz's wee-wee on national television, and that's just not fair to him.

And also, the other women also seemed to talk not only about their cat but about all the cats they'd ever had in their entire lifetime and even cats that aren't theirs, like, their parents' cats or their friends' cats or random cats they see in the street, and I'm really only obsessed with Mr. Baz.

Which may have come out slightly wrong, because when the director asked me why I love all cats so much, I had to say that I don't really like other people's cats and that my friend has a theory about OPB: Other People's Babies and I sort of have the same theory about OPC: Other People's Cats. I mean, I actually find "cat talk" rather boring. Which they thought was totally hilarious. And then I had to beg that they cut that part out, to which the director stopped laughing just long enough to say, "Um. No." And then started laughing again. So, now I'm going to come across as not only crazy but also a jerk. Yikes.

Kitty Party Book Club

The other day one of the members of the Kitty Party Book Club (how cute is this book club's name and why am I not in a book club called the Kitty Party? Actually, mine would be called the Pretty Kitty Book Club and Mr. Baz would be the mascot but nevermind). Anyway, one of the group's members, Deepi, wrote me the loveliest email saying they were reading my book in their book club this month! Hurrah! 

Although I heard from several book clubs last summer, after the book came out (and likely, because they wanted to take advantage of this book club offer!), I haven't heard from many book clubs recently (also because the book club offer is sold out, and would you bother to write to the author whose book you're reading just because you're reading it? I mean, I didn't email Barbara Walters this month to let her know I was reading her memoir, though this is likely because a) I do not know Barbara Walters' email address, b) Babs probably doesn't read her own emails (who has time for that....I do, sadly), and c) Everyone is reading Barbara Walters' memoir so big deal. But for me, it IS a big deal, so thank you Kitty Party members!

The Kitty Party book club was hoping the offer might still be valid, but since the cupcake mixes have been long turned into pretty pink cupcakes, it isn't. But I sent them a little something anyway -- some Dermaglow lip glosses (a favourite of Mara) and some bookmarks. 

Then, they sent me this picture of them at Book Club night. Cute!

Seriously, they could be called the Pretty Kitty Book Club because they're all so pretty! 

Thanks for reading girls!

Lists...

It's September! Can you even believe it? Yesterday, the Hubs and I played hooky from work and went back-to-fall shopping. We spend our summer weekends golfing so I love that time when our weekends are for getting lattes and strolling on Bloor Street. The Hubs was looking for a few tres-chic items for our upcoming trip to France in our pants. I was looking for a New York-y outfit for my book launch later this month.

If you live in New York, I hope that you can come. And if you don't live in New York, I have comprised, for the September list on my website, 10 very worthy reasons to drop everything and spend the month in New York. Obviously if you can drop everything and spend an entire month in another city, you are leading some sort of life that involves much intrigue, spies or lunching with ladies, and I envy you. But if there's just one day you can go to the city (like me), will you come on the 12th?

That is when the fabulous people at the Canadian Consulate in New York, along with my publishing house and Lululemon in New York have teemed up to have a book launch for Stuck in Downward Dog! I can't think of a better place for the event. I just hope that we won't be actually doing yoga. Because the jeans I just bought are so tight I can barely breathe. If I attempt a downward dog, I will literally get stuck. Also ever since I finished writing the book, my yoga (which was quite regular for research) has gotten a little rusty. I seem to be spending more time sitting on the couch eating potato chips. I'd like to say it's research for the next book... note: I should probably try to add a potato-chip-eating-couch-sitting scene. Anyway, this isn't about me, this is about you. So here are my 10 best reasons why you should visit New York this September...

1. Courtney Thorne-Smith at B&N, Sept 19. Who even knew that Allison on Melrose (btw my favourite character on the show, and yes I liked her much better on that than on Ally McBeal or the show with the fat husband) was an author?

2. Megan McCafferty at Borders, Sept 6, promoting her latest book in the Jessica Darling series, Fourth Comings. It's already a bestseller!

3. International Carpet Show, Sept 18-21. Because who doesn't need carpeting?

4. NY Film Fest, Sept 28 onwards... Movies, popcorn, Mark Wahlberg...

5. US Open, Sept 1-9. Tennis anyone?

6. Autumn Crafts (crafts! crafts!) Festival, Sept 9.

7. Alan Alda?!, B&N, Sept 5. Again, who knew he wrote a book?

8. NY Fashion Week, Sept 4-12. Don't forget your grannie boots.

9. Walk it Out Harlem Hip Hop Walking Tour, Sept 5. This is just fun to say.

10. Stuck in Downward Dog NYC launch, Lululemon, Sept 12!

In the meantime, I hope you're spending your long weekend exactly the way you like to. Whether that's lattes, potato chips, shopping or yoga.

Freebie Friday!

I have a friend who's a contest addict. She's in even in a club for contestors. It's called the T.O. Wanna Winners. The thing is, it's not a contest support club, like Contestors Anonymous, because none of these contesters actually want to stop contesting. Just the opposite. They meet and swap tips on new contests, new websites that list contests, and compare notes on what contests and prizes they've won since the last meeting. And they all win. A lot. Some members win up to 10 different prizes every month. Know why? Because the reality is, that if you actually dedicate a substantial amount of time to entering contests, you will actually, eventually, win. The key is to be strategic.

Here are a few contesting tips:

1. Go local. Enter contests open only to your town, province or grocery store.
2. Read what the contest is for. Do you really want to drive to another city to pick up fishing lures?
3. Enter online. You'll save time and stamps.

And now...because there's no sense talking about contests if you're not going to get to enter one, I'm kicking off a new segment on Getting Unstuck called Freebie Friday. Each Friday (or as often as I have something free to give away), I'll be holding a contest or sending you links to other contests that have cool things (IMO) to win!

This Friday, the theme is WIN A COPY OF STUCK IN DOWNWARD DOG! Hmm, how surprising...

There are three ways you can win:

1. LouLou magazine is giving away 100 copies of Stuck in Downward Dog! What are the odds? (Very good, I think!). You have to be Canadian or live in Canada to enter.

2. Enter to win one of 2 copies at Women Can Do Anything, an amazing site that offers business tips to inspiring stories of entrepreneurs who've turned a hobby or passion into a successful business. You can live in the U.S. or Canada to win!

3. Chatelaine magazine has named Stuck in Downward Dog the Book of the Month(!), which I'm super thrilled about, and if you join the book forum, you can win a copy of the book! Plus, the forum has some great discussions about other fabulous books.

Just remember, "A quitter never wins and a winner never quits." Good luck!

More from the deleted scenes warehouse...

Last week, in response to many emails I've received from fabulous readers wondering when they can read more about Mara's life, I decided to post a deleted scene. Initially, one of Mara's to-do items on her OM list (a personal pathway to perfection) is to learn to sew so that she can create fabulous one-of-a-kind outfits. Unfortunately, it seemed that Mara had enough to do, what with learning to cook and getting a promotion at work and throwing fabulous parties, that learning to sew would just be impossible. I mean, I've been learning to sew for about three years now, and still, I can't seem to make a straight seam. So instead, Mara got to just shop for more unique clothes, which means that the sewing scenes are now deleted scenes for you to enjoy!

If you didn't read the first deleted scene, you can read it here, so that you'll know what's happening. The following deleted scene picks up where the first one left off.

Happy long weekend!

***

I was running short on sewing time, so I called Mrs. Freudel to find out the lesson plan for my second class. She informed me that I’d be ironing my seams flat and serging the edges so they wouldn’t fray. I decided I’d be further ahead if I skipped the class and taught myself to sew. Surely the library had a Sewing for Dummies book. And I intended to find it.

It was while roaming the aisles of the old Yorkville library searching for the Sewing for Dummies book (seriously, what is up with kids using the lookup computers for IM? Isn’t there supposed to be a rule against that? And why weren’t the librarians enforcing it? Is the Dewey decimal system still in effect? And how are sewing books categorized when one doesn’t know the last name of the author of Sewing for Dummies?) that I discovered the video section – and more importantly yoga videos – and picked up Yoga Instant Calm. The back of the DVD cover promised me that the video would help me improve my asanas, honor my body and bring a sense of peace to all aspects of my life.

The girl on the cover was wearing all black and sitting in Salutation Seal pose, which seriously isn’t the most flattering position in real life because it’s like sitting cross-legged except if you’re not super thin and super flexible then your knees aren’t down on the ground and so you’re sort of awkward looking and your belly’s sort of hanging over the top of your yoga pants and even though you’re supposed to be focusing on your hands in prayer position at your chest, it’s much too distracting to see your toes in front of you and wonder when you’ll remember to take off the chipping polish on your toes because you only seem to remember during this pose or cobbler’s pose when your toes are right beneath your nose.

Anyway.

It couldn’t hurt to practice yoga at home – especially if it promised to help me make peace with those around me. Plus, it was fulfilling my multitasking requirement – I was getting items to help me with more than one item on my checklist, and by doing yoga at home, I could have a pot of ratatouille simmering on the stove, completing several domestic tasks at once without even living the house. Or I could do it before work, something I couldn’t do at Bikram due to the inability to wash my hair with the hideous tea tree oil shampoo.

After considering the integration of yoga videos into my schedule, I headed to the help desk to find what I really came for.

“We haven’t got a Sewing for Dummies in book form in the library, but I can order you a copy from one of the other branches,” the lovely nanny-type lady with blue-tinted glasses said to me. “Or,” she said, looking back at her computer screen, “we have it on tape. Would that do?”

I should’ve ordered the book and waited an extra day or two, but listening to Sewing for Dummies on tape sounded like a much better idea. After all, I’d need my hands to sew, and if I had to read through the book and then stop, do what it told me, stop, read the book, and so on, all day long, I’d never get the dresses made. But if I listened on tape, I could sew as I listened. It was a perfect solution.

Perfect, I thought as the librarian handed me Sewing for Dummies on tape.

Perfect, except for one small point, which didn’t dawn on me until I got home – I didn’t actually own a tape deck.

***


“That’s because tape decks went out of style along with Rick Springfield and Debbie Gibson,” Bradford explained bluntly. “So did my car, though, so if you really need a tape deck, you can come over here and listen to it in the Skivvy” he said, referring to his beloved purple Honda Civic.

I wasn’t sure that was going to work, but what other choice did I have. “Where can I plug in my sewing machine, though?”

“Do you have an extension cord?”

I walked over to the kitchen and pulled the extension cord that allowed the fridge to run, and unplugged it. “Yep.”

“Then you’re in business.”

And that’s how I came to sit in Bradford’s driveway, with my pink sewing machine set up on a TV table outside the passenger’s seat in his magenta Honda Civic.

Bradford was no help at all, since once again, he lacked in a typical gay flair for fashion. He touched the interfacing that I pulled out of the bag and made a face. “That’s sort of scratchy, isn’t it?”

I handed him Pumpernickel to take inside, and shut the door to the Civic. Then, I pushed Play and the tape started to whirr away. The beginning was quite simple, explaining the parts of the sewing machine. First we wind the bobbin.

No problem – I did that in Mrs. Freudel’s class and my bobbin was already threaded with silver thread, ready for the dresses. Next, I was supposed to put my bobbin into place in the machine, then thread my needle. Over and down and up and down and through the needle. A cinch. Then, catch the bobbin thread. Catch. The. Bobbin. Thread. Why wasn’t it catching? Was it still down there? I was afraid to actually open the bobbin compartment because, truth be told, I didn’t actually remember how to thread it through. There was something about a waterfall and it going down the river and the bank on the left. Or right. I wasn’t sure, and I was pretty sure if I opened up the bobbin compartment it would be worse than a can of worms scenario. So I kept rolling the side dial toward me hoping the thread in the needle would eventually catch the bobbin.

Finally, it did, and I exhaled heavily and then felt proud of myself for keeping my yoga composure. I had just worked through a difficult pose – call it “waterfall besides a bank” and pushed through.

The instructor, however was already talking about stitches and moving the dial to 10. 10? I only had pictures of stitches on my machine and orange dots to match up. Was 10 the stitch on the end? Or were there 100 numbers on most machines and 10 was near the beginning? Or 50? Now the instructor was telling me to put two pieces of fabric with the right sides together and pin them in place. Then to place the material 2 cm over from the foot, backstitch and then start sewing. I didn’t even have the right stitch figured out. And 2 cm? I only had fractions that I was pretty sure were inches. What was I going to do. I looked for the STOP button on the tape deck but there was only an EJECT. I pressed the button and the tape popped out. I pushed it back in and hit REWIND. Then PLAY. This was going to be a long afternoon.


Around five o’clock Bradford opened the door to the driver’s side of the car and sat down beside me, holding Pumpernickel in his arms. He nodded, surveying the scene. The patterns were spread out across the car, but there were so many lines and pieces to cut I had abandoned them long ago. After all, I knew what a dress looked like and since the patterns required zippers, something I had no idea how to make, and something I wasn’t sure where if at all the instructions would be on the Dummies tape, I decided to boycott them and instead, make tank dresses. Thankfully I had been wise purchasing cotton with a bit of spandex, so surely the girls could wiggle their way into the dresses. I had one dress pretty much complete – okay except for the unhemmed collar and bottom – I held it up for Bradford to see. He nodded with approval.

“So these are armless girls?”

I looked at the armpits. I’d sewn them shut.


I wanted to cry, but Bradford pulled me out of the car before I could work up the tears.


“How about a cocktail?”

The Mayor and his bling

On Saturday, I went to St. Catharines, my hometown, to do a reading & signing at the Chapters at the *NEW* Fairview Mall. I say "new" because that's what it's now called, and I was excited to see why, since growing up, the Fairview Mall was the secondary mall, to the larger, more impressive Pen Centre. The Fairview Mall was always one of those malls that isn't quite a mall, that has a Zellers and a food court and a lotto stand, but the rest of the shops sort of come and go, and are the type you can never really remember the name of.

Since we were early getting to Chapters, my stepmom and I decided to walk around the mall for a few minutes, which is all it took. The lotto booth was still there, though it was doubling as a funeral and gravestone flowers express pickup, which struck me as sort of odd. I mean, people die suddenly, and that's awful, but is anyone ever in such a rush to get the flowers on time? But what do I know? All I know is that they also removed the movie theatres -- which makes no sense to me! Don't malls usually ADD super amazing theatres to help attract people to the mall? Those theatres were home to many crushes on boys over the years. Boys who, now that I think about it, never liked me back. So maybe it's fine that they're gone.

My dad and stepmom did an amazing job of inviting everyone out for the signing, and then hosting a backyard reception afterward, which was so fun. In preparation, however, there was apparently some all-nighters being pulled by a certain male parent who shall remain nameless. Apparently he felt it necessary to finish reading a certain book that I wrote, perhaps so that when the neighbours said "Have you read the book?" He would be able to say no, without lying.

This is because he is a very honest person, who taught me you should not lie. Except when you're writing FICTION, people. FICTION! So anyway, he finished reading the book the night (or morning) before I arrived, and had this to say when I walked through the door:

He: "Fiction, huh? Even the part about the Apple IIC?"
Okay, so maybe we did have an Apple IIC. And Print Shop. And orange paper.
Me: "But it's funny, right? Right?!" Besides, I wanted it to be authentic and how could I write about a Commodore 64 if we never had one, for the exact reasons that Mara never had one (that you can only play games on them and not do your homework). For the record, I think my father was secretly flattered that his computer had a cameo appearance in the book.

During this debate, I asked my stepmom what she thought. She shrugged and smiled, remaining neutral -- or so I thought -- until I returned from golfing the next morning with my dad to find her on the couch reading my book. Aha! I'd caught her. She hadn't gotten involved in what was slightly modified reality because she hadn't read the book. But she was well-rested for the signing, and it was a good thing, because guess who arrived... the mayor!

I think the mayor is super. Okay, okay, so I'm not actually important enough that he came just because I was an author who'd written a book. He may be related to me. Sort of. He's the Hubs' second cousin-in-law thrice removed. Still, it was super sweet that he and his wife and family came, considering Dan Akroyd was having a wine event and there was a potato stomp and a million other events that day that he also had to get to.

But the best part was that he brought his bling!

He: "I see you've got some bling." (pointing to my faux fat pearls). "How about I put on my bling and we get a picture together?"
Me: "Alrighty!"

Here we are.

Then we sat down and talked about how they're going to make a cat commute boat from Toronto to St. Catharines so that Mr. Baz can zip across the lake to the country whenever he wants to, unaccompanied by me, and he doesn't have to whine about how hot he is in the car when we're stuck in traffic for three hours.

Okay not really. That was fiction.

PS: Thanks also to the Cupcake Shoppe for the fabulous cupcakes and to everyone that came out!

And now, I'm off to tell only the truth for the rest of the day.

Mara learns to sew...

I've been getting lots of emails lately wondering what happens to Mara and whether I'm writing a sequel, and while I can't give anything away just yet, I've got something I hope will tide you over for a bit...

a deleted scene!

If you've read the book, then you'll know who everyone is. If you haven't, this won't spoil anything since I decided that Mara was overwhelmed enough and didn't need to learn how to sew, too. All you need to know is that Marjorie is her boss, the plastic surgeon she works for at the cosmetic surgery clinic.

Enjoy!

After lunch while amusing myself with a package of Twizzlers, Marjorie re-emerged with a crisis. Her maid’s triplets were appearing in the Kmart Talent Competition and Marjorie had promised she would take care of their costumes in an attempt to stop her maid from leaving her for a more lucrative job in Rosedale.
Realizing this was my chance to show Marjorie I was worthy of promotion, I shot my hand in the air and waved it around dramatically. “I’ll do it!”

“Great,” Marjorie said, handing me the info. “The budget is $1,000. Just call Dina’s Dressmaking in Little Italy and give her the measurements.”

I nearly choked on my Twizzler. One thousand dollars? Surely I could learn to sew, then pocket the money instead. I mean, how hard could sewing really be?

***

If I had any sewing smarts, I would’ve taken the $1,000, and gone straight to the Dina’s Dressmaking Shoppe on the College and got the cute little lady – Dina – to make the dresses, just like Marjorie told me to do. Wiped my hands and patted myself on the back for taking care of business. But instead, as I was picking out fabric at Queen Street Fabrics with all good intentions to then take the fabric to Dina, I saw a sign for Mrs. Freudal’s Frugal Sewing Classes and I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Not only could I check off #8 on my OM List: Design and sew my own clothes (or rather, clothes for other people, which was far more charitable anyway) – but I could make a quick $1,000 (minus the fabric costs) and impress Marjorie. I took down Mrs. Freudal’s phone number to sign up for lessons, bought enough fabric – three color variations on the same patterned cotton with a touch of spandex – for three pint-sized dresses and left the store.

***

Miss Freudel told me to bring my sewing machine to her home in the Annex on Saturday morning. I didn’t have a sewing machine but I was sure I didn’t need one. After all, women in the olden days didn’t have machines and they sewed all their clothes. They didn’t have H&M to rely on for cheap essentials. They had to sew everything and make it last for years, not just a season. Surely if they could do it, so could I.

Miss Freudel had other ideas.

Miss Freudel lived in an old Victorian house that looked like it hadn’t seen paint since well before Debbie Travis got her own line of colors. A grey-haired woman answered the door and stared blankly at me.

“Miss Freudel?”

“I’m her daughter, Lucille,” the woman said. If this woman was a daughter, who was teaching the class? Lucille pointed toward the dim staircase straight ahead, which was lit by a single bulb with a dangling chain to turn it off and on. I expected the entranceway to be exquisitely decorated with gorgeous fabric used wherever possible, but it was just as disheveled as the exterior. She didn’t follow me down, but shut the door behind me. The whir of sewing machines made my descent feel like I was entering a mine. At the base of the stairs the room opened up into a full-on sweat shop. There were more than 20 tables set up with a sewing machine on each and a woman behind each machine. Lucille was right – she really was the daughter. And her mother was a cross between Miss Hannigan in Annie and Harriet Oleson in Little House. She stood dauntingly at the back of the room with a yard stick. She looked up at me. “Where’s your machine?” She barked from across the room.

“I don’t have one,” I answered meekly, knowing there was no way she could hear me over the machines. “I’d like to sew by hand,” I said louder. I clutched my bag of interfacing and multicolored cotton for support.

“Out.” She thrust the yard stick at me and then followed her point, edging closer to me. “You must buy machine or I can’t teach you to sew.”

“Couldn’t I borrow one of these?”

“You can use one of my machines for today only. Then you buy machine.”
I smiled. I wouldn’t need to buy a machine – I’d just sew all three dresses today, and be done. One thousand dollars minus twenty-five for the class and fifty for the fabric. Easy peasy.

I sat down at a boring brown machine at the back of the room and then got out my fabric. “So, I need to make these Lycra costumes, and I’d like to use interfacing,” I told Mrs. Freudal. There was no reason why I shouldn’t at least recover my eBay costs in this venture.

“First you’re going to sew these scraps of fabric together,” she told me and handed me a pile of green cotton. “One of each type of stitch on your machine.”

“But I don’t know the stitches. And I really need to make three dresses. Quickly.”

“You cannot make an apple pie until you learn which apples are best for baking. Start with a straight stitch. Set your dial to 10. Go.”

I didn’t even know how to thread the machine. I was doomed.


Stay tuned for more deleted scenes to come!

Monday mysteries solved

This weekend I solved a lot of mysteries, in anticipation of the Nancy Drew movie, which opens this Friday. First, I stopped off at the vet to ask them about Mr. Baz and his dandruff. The vet assistant told me that he was probably allergic to something. I told her I live in a condo. We have two plants, which are new (because I always kill plants so then I have to buy new ones) and Mr. Baz's dandruff has been going on for nearly a year, so I'm not really sure that could be the problem.

She re-emphasized that he's probably allergic to something. She said SOMETHING in a very conspiratorially tone, like I should know what she's talking about but she shouldn't have to say. So I said, "What? Me? Do you think my cat is allergic to me?" She shrugged, as if to say, "You said it, lady." Hmph.

Thankfully the other cute vet assistant said, "It's probably nothing. It's very common." Then he added, "Do you always have the heat or air conditioning on?" A-ha! That's it. Because when Mr. Baz is at the country home (my dad's house) there is never ANY air conditioning on. My father believes in letting the fresh air in -- even if it's 100-degree-fahrenheit fresh air. But we always have the air conditioning on.

When I got home, my friend Vickie wrote me an email to say that it was probably air conditioning causing the dandruff. Vickie's looking to get a cat, so she's been doing a lot of research into all things cats so I totally believe that she knows what she's talking about. The cute vet assistant also said to try brushing Mr. Baz to try to get rid of the dandruff. So I dug out his cat brush (turns out he has TWO brushes, since apparently at some point I forgot I'd already bought one and bought another, though I haven't brushed hiim in ages, since he really, REALLY hates it). Still, it was for his own good, I told him. He didn't look impressed but we carried on. But you know what? It turns out that BRUSHING him only makes the dandruff even worse! It's like it scrapes off another layer of dead skin, so that the specks of dry skin quadruplify! So much for that. I knew there was a reason I wasn't brushing him.

In other mysteries solved, I found the missing cord to my camera. It was -- where else -- on my bookshelf, which is a perfectly logical place for it to be, no? So, a month later, here are some pictures from the Toronto book launch party of my book.....

Here's my aunt saying "Are those CONDOMS? What IS that?" FYI, I have no idea...

Shopping...

Eating cupcakes....

Setting up the books...


Talking...


And signing...

In other picture news, this weekend I was at BookExpo Canada , signing copies of my book for booksellers, librarians and other book lovers. It was super fun and I met so many great booksellers from stores like Indigo Peterborough, Indigo Scarborough Town Centre, Indigo Pickering Town Centre, Indigo Oshawa and Chapters St. Catharines, not to mention a bunch of girls from Indigo Eaton Centre and Indigo Bay-Bloor, which are two of my most frequently visited Indigo stores. I also got to meet Vanessa Craft , author of the novel Out of Character, which I just finished reading. Here's a pic of Vanessa and I at the booth signing together. Vanessa is super funny, and probably just said something ridiculous, which is why I'm making such an unflattering face. Vanity shmanity.






Sadly, I was at my publisher's booth at the same time that Sarah Mlynowski was signing, so I didn't get to meet her, even though I really wanted to. Here is a picture someone else took of her...



I also didn't get to meet Vincent Lam, since as I mentioned, he was also signing at the same time as me....





Finally, I leave you with a little past prime minister...





Jean Chretien!

Best Beach Reads

Yesterday I found out that Stuck in Downward Dog debuted on the Winnipeg Free Press bestseller list at #3! I have no idea how many books people needed to buy to get it on the list, but I want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all the Winnipeggers and southern Manitobans who bought the book! When I told my stepmom, she said, "Just how many books DID your mother in law buy for relatives?!" Ha. Ha. Ha. Or maybe...true, true, true. In any event, I couldn't be more thrilled, so thank you.

Speaking of books, Chatelaine just published its 50 Best Beach Reads for the summer, which is the perfect little guide to kick-start your summer, and give you a whole range of books to read, in case you were looking for inspiration. As you know, I'm WAY behind on reading. There are so many books I want to read, but never make enough time to. Still, I always love a good list, and I like Chatelaine's list. It's not just a list of best-sellers and new releases. Instead, it's broken down into categories, so that if you read all the books you'd have covered a range of everything from chicklit to thrillers, including a few books I haven't even heard of (which is always great to find), such as Lullabies for Little Criminals, Rebeecca, The Thirteenth Tale; favourites I've read over and over again like The Bell Jar, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, Bridget Jones's Diary; and books I've wanted to read for some time, but haven't, such as She's Come Undone, By the Time You Read This, and Prodigal Summer.

And unlike the 1001 Books List, of which I've failed miserably to read even 10%, I've read 24 of the 50 books -- nearly 50%! I can't believe it.

What's on your summer reading list?

A thousand thank you's...

So you know when you've got great friends and you feel very lucky, but then something happens and then you realize just how amazing they are? That's totally been this week, for me.

When my books arrived on Tuesday, I of course called The Hubs immediately, but because he does a lot of ACTUAL WORK when he's at WORK, he was in a meeting, so I just left a squealy message. Then I called my agent to squeal to her.

After work, I was walking through the mall with a girlfriend (because just because you got your new book does not mean you don't still need to go to the mall. Really, is there ever a reason NOT to go to the mall?) So anyway, we were just heading for the Lululemon, when The Hubs appeared. "I've been calling you on all your phones!" Even my very favourite LG Chocolate phone, which he bought me for Christmas. Which I love. Which was sitting in the outer pocket of my handbag, right up against me, and which I did not hear go off. Or vibrate. Which is why this phone really really frustrates me even though it is SO pretty. Why won't it actually ring loud enough to hear it? Anyway, that's why it was even crazier that we just bumped into eachother randomly. Then, he took me out for escargot (snails!) and champagne to celebrate and told everyone we passed - the maitre d', the waiter, the concierge at our building - that I'd wrote a book. So, so sweet.

When I got to work the next day, one of my friends, who had just finished reading the book, sent over CUPCAKES from The Cupcake Shoppe! Does it get any better than that? I mean, I LOVE cupcakes, but the cupcakes from The Cupcake Shoppe are so pretty. And so appropriate since Mara, the heroine of Stuck in Downward Dog, also loves these cupcakes from The Cupcake Shoppe. Such a sweet, sweet gesture.










Then, my boss and everyone at work bought me a bouquet of gerbera daisies, which are my favourite flowers ever. Such a favourite that when I was getting married, the only three things I really cared about were a) my dress b) a photographer who didn't suck and c) the bouquets, which had to be gerberas. Which didn't actually happen since when I said "pink gerberas" to the Spanish wedding planner, she decided instead to order me "orange lilies." Not really the same thing, but I did end up with a few pink gerberas in the end. So it all worked out.

Anyway, the last few days have been filled with nothing but the sweetest gestures from my family and friends and I can't thank them enough for sharing my excitement.

PS Thanks to Charlene Martel at The Literary Word for the great review of Stuck in Downward Dog and to Vickie at Yep, I'm a Writer for her mention. PPS Her blog is super funny. You should read it.

The best day...ever.

Yesterday was the best day ever. First, this came in the mail ...

A big box filled with my books!

But that's not all, because then you'd be thinking, "What's in it for me?"

I'll tell you... this! An invitation to my launch party!

If you live in Toronto, or anywhere near Toronto, you should come. Or if you've never been to Toronto, then it's a perfect excuse to come. Free cocktails, appetizers and cupcakes, plus a gift bag that is filled with so many fabulous items you really will think, "Toronto is so great. So much free, fun stuff! Why have I never come here before?", that you'll want to come back again and again.*

*Just so you know, though, you can't just go to any restaurant or boutique on any day and ask for free cocktails and cupcakes and a gift bag of presents and expect them to give it to you. They'll probably just give you a look like you're crazy. Don't take it personally. Instead, just make sure you come to....

Kultura, 169 King St. E.
Tuesday, May 8 from 5:30 - 7:30 p.m.
RSVP: info@keyporter.com

I'll tell you all about my Benjamin Mackenzie sighting (which will take um, five seconds, but it will be a really good re-enactment of us passing on the street. Promise). Or, we can discuss boys, ballet flats (pros and cons), beauty products or The Real Wedding Crashers (are you watching this?!) while sipping pretty cocktails. Seriously, what else do you have to do on a Tuesday night?

Hope to see you there!

Babies, babies, everywhere!

About a month ago, I blogged about three of my friends having their first babies within the same week - and they were all boys. And they all had the same name. Okay they didn't, but it would've been funnier if they did.

Then, last week I emailed my friend "Brooklyn" who lives in New York to see if we could get together when I'd be in the city. She said we could, but it would have to be in the exclusive St. Luke's Hospital, since she was having her baby the day I arrived and would be in the hospital for the remainder of my stay. Don't you just love a planned C-section? It's perfect! I'd know exactly where to find her and I could see her pre-baby, mid-baby or post-baby just by telling her what time I was arriving. So we made a plan (I opted for post-baby), only yesterday I got an email saying she had the baby already. But thankfully, he's perfectly healthy, just two weeks early. So I guess it just proves that you really can't plan everything, even in a day and age when you really can plan everything in life.

Of course, every time one of my friends has a baby, all the other pregnant friends email to ask how many hours the new mom was in labour. They all seem to have a theory that if Mom A pushed for 48 hours, then maybe Mom B is off the hook and will get a 10-minute push. I'm not sure it works that way, but for some reason everytime I report back about an easy labour, none of the pregnant moms-to-be seem very pleased, as though they've just been sentenced to The Worst Labour Term Ever: To Infinity and Beyond!

If this is your theory, though, then maybe you need to not ask me for a report because so far, every girl I know has had a fairly easy labour. (You know, as easy as it is to carry a watermelon around for ten months and then push it out.)



In other babies-in-the-making news, two more friends are pregnant, and today, my favourite teen author, Sarah Dessen, revealed a secret ! Congratulations, Sarah!

It must be something in the water. Or the watermelons. I was discussing this phenomenon of babies being made at an alarmingly fast pace with a friend today and asking her if she thought it was in the water. Or the watermelons.

No, she said. It's that you're 31.

Another Nancy Drew Mystery solved!


PS: my first review is in and it's a good one! Thanks to Lipstick Lolita at the new and super addictive Slice.ca for the mention! Now, I just hope that doesn't mean the next one will be bad.

Target is Stuck in Downward Dog!

I love Target, so today, while I was doing a little pre-spring Tarj shopping trip preview shopping online, looking at the things I may not be able to live without... such as ...



this Making Memories Craft Tote! Because really, sometimes a crafty girl's got to feel like she can craft on the go! or this...



super cute laptop bag, which perhaps might be more important, so that I can write on the go! or this...



Thermos, because all that writing can make a girl thirsty...

Anyway, while looking at all these things, I came across
this!

My book...available at Target?!?!!!

I need a minute.

I'm not sure if this means that the book will actually be available in actual Target stores, but I can't even imagine what I'm going to do if it is. I mean, Target?! The store that has a category under Dresses called "Ladylike Polish"?

In related news, Daria Snadowsky's super fun book Anatomy of a Boyfriend just became a Breakout Book! You can see a picture of her at Tarj with her book here (Scroll down to the March 6 entry). Congratulations, Daria!

Mr. Baz, also, is quite excited about the possiblity of Downward Dog being available at Target, since he too, shares my love of the Tarj, ever since I bought him his Isaac Mizrahi golf shirt last fall...

Baby news!

That's right... it's baby time! In the past two weeks, three of my friends have had babies! Don't worry, this wasn't a surprise to any of them. They all had babies inside of them, for nine months, so they were well-prepared that one day the baby was going to decide to come out and say hello. Actually, did you know that if you're pregnant, it's actually 38 weeks, which is more like 9 1/2 months? But we all just say 9 months. I suppose if you were carrying an extra 60 pounds around, you'd rather just hear 9 months, too, because 9 1/2 months is a long time. Oh, wait, apparently, according to Google, you're only supposed to gain 25-35 pounds, but whatever. If I was pregnant I'd totally gain 60 pounds, because if you're going to do it, why not do it all the way? I mean, it's the one chance to eat ice cream whenever you want, besides your birthday.

So aside from the fact that all three babies were born within a few days of eachother, they were also ALL BOYS! Luckily for me, they all have different names. Because imagine if they'd all been named Omar? And I'd have to remember which one was which? Would I say Omar I, Omar II, and Omar III, based on their date of births? Actually, come to think of it, maybe I wouldn't have to differentiate. I'd just buy three identical prezzies, write Omar on each card and I'd be set to go. But that's not really fair, because they're all individual, and I'm sure that Omar I might like toy cars but Omar II might prefer soccer balls and Omar III might like manicures. (I'm just saying.) So then Omar III would be really pissed off to get a Hot Wheels car instead of a Hot Paraffin Mani, right? So actually, it's probably better that each of them has a very different name, so that I can remember that...


Balthazar likes Blue's Clues ...


and Salarino likes Spiderman ...


and MacDuff likes the Muppets.



Hmm.. why are all my fake baby names Shakespearean characters? And also, why do all their favourite superheroes and cartoon characters start with the same initial as their first name? Maybe it's because I LIKED characters that started with the same initial as my name.


Care Bears? Check.


Cabbage Patch Kids? Check.


Strawberry Shortcake...



Okay scratch that theory. The new babies can like whatever they like because they're going to be each very unique and so fun to play with. You know why? Because they're all PISCES!! And you can't go wrong with a Pisces. They're sensitive, empathetic, and caring. The down side to all the mushy-feeliness is that they're criers. So just to be sure that the babies were TRUE Pisces (because as I'm sure you know, if you're born on the cusp, then you could ACTUALLY be another sign, like Aquarius or Aries, both of which are NOTHING like Pisces) I asked my three friends if each of their babies were crying a lot, and they ALL said YES!

Yes! So they're all Pisces. Just like me.

And speaking of new babies, my new cover arrived this week! The labour was intense, and lasted several WEEKS, but it wasn't too painful (I hope!) and the new cover was and is super cute (just like all babies should be).


Ta da!




And now, because of all the great news, I'm going to go eat some ice cream.

The cover that never was

I love the cover that the book designer at my publishing house created for Stuck in Downward Dog. I mean, it had blue, pink, Post-its and swirly fonts. What's not to like?

Unfortunately, the cover has to be changed.


Boo....


But maybe the new cover will be even more fabulous.

And even more girly!
We'll see.

(Besides, I already laminated the other cover -- of course it couldn't go unlaminated! It's my first cover! So I'll always have that, hidden away in my closet).