I was up with the dawn because the puppy needed to go out and the animals all needed to be fed before I headed off to be on a television show.  I was co-host on Better Connecticut with Scot Haney again today and I couldn’t possibly have had more fun.  Here’s a clip that I was able to lift from the web.  I was given a DVD of the entire show and would like to figure out how to load clips from it onto the blog, because we had a woman celebrating her 102nd birthday on the show and she was amazing.  She was beautiful and bright and lighthearted and she had hand-crocheted the most intricately worked lace doilies for us.  I just loved meeting her. She was born in 1908.

Then I came home and had some fun taking photographs of animals enjoying the galley of my friend Julie Klam’s forthcoming book, YOU HAD ME AT WOOF.  My favorite of the photos is this:

That’s my friend Jenny Carolan’s dog Rugby, above. He is quite the character, as you can see.  I also like the photo below:

Okay, this is the best:

Alright, my favorite:

And then I went riding and found that I could videotape our silhouette – our shadow, on the grass, climbing up and down the hills with us.  I could have done a better job editing. At one point we were cantering quite fast and I had to mess around with the reins. It was a beautiful day for a ride. Hope you like the video.  If you can’t see the embedded video, click here.

Wait, are those ….why yes!  Somebody is reading both Denis’s and my books at this cafe!

And here, a mysterious couple are about to sit down to a fine French wine while they share my book.

What have we here?  Another cafe, another Leary book!

It seems the French can’t get enough of us Learys. Why am I living in America?  I’ve never seen my book on a table in a New York cafe, but apparently, you can’t move in a French restaurant or cafe without bumping into a person reading my book.

Well Paris (and Barbara), je t’aime!

Here’s my favorite cafe photo, though:

C’est magnifique!

Today, I will be on Better Connecticut, not as a guest, but as a co-host, with one of my favorite television personalities, Scot Haney.  If you live in Connecticut it’s on WFSB-TV at 3:00.

I’m slightly competitive by nature and when I spoke to Melissa, the show’s producer, I asked her who we were up against.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Ratings-wise,” I said, “because if it’s that Dr. Phil, we’re taking him down.”

She told me that our biggest competitor in our marketplace (listen to me – our marketplace – I actually think I’m on this show now) is General Hospital.

So listen up General Hospital people – you might want to Tivo today’s episode. I don’t want to give anything away, but I might just choose today to reveal to Scot Haney that he’s the father of the love septuplets that I’m carrying.

Random, I know, but look at that face.

Somebody told me today that she noticed that I haven’t been blogging as much lately and I agreed that I haven’t been able to get around to it every day.  I do it about every other day, I said.  She said that she thinks it’s more like twice a week. And then she said, “I miss it when you don’t blog.”

And people, that’s why everybody should have a sister Meg!  Yes, Meg is visiting again and I just love her and will now make it a point to blog each day. Because Meg said that even if it’s a short blog, it’s better than seeing the boring old one staring you in the face when you log on.

I’ve just been very busy with stuff. The weather has been beautiful, I’ve been riding, working in the yard. And now, I’m taking a course. It’s a very interesting and challenging course and no, it’s not an introduction to writing course, so save your wisecracks. It’s something I really don’t know anything about (no, again, it’s not a writing course).  I’m going to see if anyone can guess what the course is.

I’m also working on the book.  And I’ve working on another project, helping organize the ASAP Young Writer’s event which is coming up on May 15th (and about which I will blog more tomorrow.

Ands let me see, there was something else….

Oh that’s right, I’m going to be co-hosting a television show this Friday! Yes,  I’ll be co-hosting Better Connecticut with Scot Haney, which is on Friday afternoons at 3:00,on CBS,  if you live in CT.  It seems that the regular co-host, Kara Sundlun will be on vacation and after scouring the state for anybody mildly resembling (or married to) a celebrity who was free, they, at last came across my name.  I let them dangle for about 30 seconds and then I said that I would love to becauser I adore Scot Haney. If you live in Connecticut, you’ll know why.

So, that’s it. It’s 1:00 in the morning and I have homework to do.  And a sister and nephew to hang with tomorrow!

In honor of the 2nd anniversary of the blog that I never thought I’d bother with after the first few entries, I’m going to post a few links to some earlier entries, so that you all can see how I’ve grown as a blogsteress.  How I’ve blossomed.

This is a personal favorite, about how I tried to help Moby with his musical career.

Notice how I, a) shamelessly name-dropped, and b) provided links with all the celebrities’ names.  Somebody had told me that when you link to a famous person or thing, anybody who searches for that person will be instantly brought to your site.  Oh those were innocent, glorious, heady times.

And who can forget the spine-chilling terror of the day of the attack sheep?:

Finally, my chance encounter with a sort-of fan.

I really need to get a life.  I’m embarrassed to admit how many entries I submitted.  Each of these literary masterpieces was 140 characters or less.   Most of mine had to do with dark marriage themes.

My favorite entry wasn’t chosen, however, and if I can find it I’ll post it here.

There’s a slideshow on the Times site and I’ve nabbed some photos to post here.  The photographer, Andrew Sullivan, was really great, as was Beth Maker, the reporter.

Now do you see why I love that grey horse almost more than life itself?  Have you ever seen a horse with a sweeter expression. Love.

Here I am trying to be all pose-y.

Well, it’s hard being photographed next to HIM.  He always looks good..

I’m still trying to sort our how to arrange photos in this new format.  Is it weird to have typing in between the photos like this?

Here’s a shot of our home:

Please go on the site if you want to see the slideshow.  There are a few blog mentions, so everybody on their best behavior tonight.  Tea bags are for brewing tea!

My first thought was that Town and Country wanted me to write an article for them.  But why wouldn’t they just contact me directly?  And why did they use the word “collaboration” and want to speak with my agent?  Suddenly, I knew what they were after.  Town and Country wanted me to write a column for them.  A regular column in which I would cover all my exciting goings on in town…and in the country.  It would be sort of like this blog – but I would get paid.  A lot.

I actually rushed out and bought Town and Country, and after leafing through its glossy pages, I realized why they wanted me.  They needed me.  This is one dull magazine.  Where to Shop, Where to Stay, What to Buy –  do people even care about stuff like that anymore?  No, thought I, they most certainly do not.

I was then stricken with this toxic combination of self-delusion and self-glorification that was escalating by the second and making it hard for me to sit still.  The publishers of Town and Country needed somebody to change the whole tone of the magazine and they knew just the gal to do it.  With a zippy column penned by me, about the really important things in the Town (where you can safely lock your bike, best dog parks, cool movie premieres) and the Country (horses, dogs,attack sheep, cool author interviews) they would have to brace themselves for the swelling circulation, the demands for space from advertisers and the need to start throwing an annual Town and Country Oscar party, hosted by … well, me!

Everywhere I looked I saw an idea for my column.  Everyone I spoke to became interesting future interviewees for my column.  Oh, my column.  My beautiful, beautiful column.

Well, the day ended with no call from my agent (whom I, of course had alerted to be on standby for their call).

The next day, still no call.

About a week later, I received a call from a friend in my town who is also a writer.  She was writing a piece for Town and Country!  Could she possibly have a photographer take photos of me riding my horse in Steep Rock for her piece?

So, they didn’t really want me to write a column.  I found out from a friend that Town and Country was looking for names of writers in the area, to write this piece, and my name was one.  My friend was the other.

I’m not exactly in a shame/self-loathing spiral.  It’s more like a little shame/self-loathing curtsy.

Well, yesterday, I had to leave the country to go to the town. I took a few photos with my iphone so that I could fool around with the photo placement capabilities of the new blog format.  I like how you can place them side-by-side.

I took the photo to the right while driving over my “Bridge of Sighs.”  It’s the bridge I must drive over every time I enter or leave our area.  I always sigh at the beauty of the lake, whenever I cross it, though it does have a rather spooky history.

When I arrived in the city I took a picture of the George Washington Bridge. Entering Manhattan, the way I do, on the Westside Highway has got to be the most beautiful drive into any American city.  The mighty Hudson is on your right, the George Washington Bridge looms ahead, and if you’re stuck in traffic, you can watch the trucks and cars crossing its span, carrying cargo and executives and musicians and waitresses and maybe even a writer or two into and out of the city.  There are massive barges being guided up and down the river by tugboats.  There’s a boat basin where sailboats bob up and down during nicer weather and there’s even a little lighthouse at the base of the George Washington Bridge, though you can’t see it when you’re driving. We have an apartment downtown, and I’m finally used to that hole in the sky where the WTC towers once stood.  Instead I focus on all the beautiful parks that have sprouted up along the river in the last decade or so. I love New York.

Yes, I took this photo while driving. Yes, I know, I know.

But I hate the way the blog looks now.  I hate the color.  Who chose it?  Me. I spoke with Nancy, several weeks ago, and she showed me various colors for the header and for some reason I chose nun-grey.  At the time, I thought it was a lovely dove-grey.  But it’s actually the color worn by nuns, accented by the colors of death.  For some reason I thought this palate would make my blog look all sophisticated and glamorous.  Instead, it looks like a dead nun blog.  And those are so overdone.

And I need a new photo.  Okay, I’ll be honest.  That’s not a recent photo in the header.  That was an author photo taken several months before my first book, An Innocent, A Broad was published, so the photo is from 2003.   I keep using that author photo for all sorts of stuff because, well, I look a little older now. How much older?  You be the judge – this is what I really look like now:

Of course, I’m not wearing any makeup, and I’m due to have my hair colored.

So, I’ll have to put on a bra and have a new photo taken.

And finally, the blog needs a name.  It deserves a name. Most of you know that it used to have a name.  My blog was called Wicked Good Life. But, what many of you don’t know is that once, over a year ago, I read a mean comment about me on the internet.  It said that my blog was  ”braggy” and as evidence, the mean, ugly, (gulp) spiteful, hateful person (sob) cited my “braggy” title (honk), Wicked Good Life.  That hurt my feelings, internet (hiccup).

So I’m open to suggestions.   Thanks to all of you who have commented so far on the new format.  I really appreciate the feedback!  Also, I will be adding exciting new features over the next few days, so there won’t be so much blank white space.

]]> http://annleary.com/blog/2009/10/19/trying-on-the-new-blog/feed/ 49 http://annleary.com/blog/2009/10/14/all-my-badass-pets-and-me/ http://annleary.com/blog/2009/10/14/all-my-badass-pets-and-me/#comments Wed, 14 Oct 2009 18:14:59 +0000 Ann Leary http://annleary.author-bytes.com/2009/10/14/all-my-badass-pets-and-me/
I have begun informing select people (just my friends, my frenemies, my agent, former editors, the New York Times, my shrink, complete strangers, my pets, the internet and basically anybody within earshot) that I’m writing a new book. The new book is a memoir about all the animals I’ve known and loved.

For some reason the first thing people ask me about is the title. Well, actually, because of my frothing, spitting enthusiasm describing the book, the first thing most people ask is, “When is the book coming out – later this month?” Then I have to mumble something about the fact that I don’t have an exact publication date, as I haven’t actually written very much of the book yet. The next thing they ask is, “What’s it going to be called?”

I don’t really know what to call the book, so the other day I wandered into my favorite bookshop to look at some books and was surprised to see that most of the books in the pet/memoir genre share very similar titles. Marley (or Alex or Bloodfang) and Me seems to be a very popular template for a bestselling book about a pet. Also, A (dog/cat/fish) named (Skip/Dewey/ Stinky) has worked quite well for authors in the past.
As I studied the titles, however, instead of becoming inspired, I was actually forced to recall how much I really hate these books about pets that were so naughty and deranged that they nearly drove their owners out of their minds,caused them to divorce, bankrupted them, cost them their jobs, ritualistically befouled their homes with their own waste, crippled their elderly parents and caused them to miscarry their babies. I hate these books because, in the end, the authors always realize that the pet wasn’t sent by the devil to destroy their life, but in fact, was a gift from God. It wasn’t the pet who was flawed, it was the human. In the closing chapter, when the beloved rascal is drawing his last breath through his greying muzzle, we understand that the pet is actually more humble and selfless and loving than we humans can ever strive to be.

And by the time the author has dried his or her tears, he (or she) has a bestseller on his (her) hands.

My book isn’t really like that. My pets do all the stuff above, but without the blessed goodness. A suitable title for my book would not be Sneakers and Me, but rather, Sneakers Bit Me (subtitled: Every Day, For Ten Years, At Mealtime). Or: Mark Kicked Me (subtitled: In The Head, Hard).

How about Lulu Come Home (subtitled: Get In Here, You Effing Moron?

I don’t see much hope for my book if people only want to read about kind and giving animals. Why can’t I have a pet who understands the real meaning of life? A sweet, loving pet who cares more about racing in the rain with me than gobbling kibble and attacking people?

How about Pongo’s Ashes?