Emerging from the bed-desk

Hello Blog, it’s been awhile.  Actually, a very long while. I’ve recently received some emails expressing concern about my health and well-being, which is so sweet. I’m doing great. I think I pulled back from blogging, posting maniacally on Facebook and tweeting my brains out on Twitter after the book came out because I was making myself sick with all the self-promotion, and I took it for granted that I was making everybody else sick as well.

But, I’m back!  We’re having a beautiful spring here in Connecticut and today I’m crawling out of my bed-desk and heading to Boston to attend Grub Street‘s annual literary conference, Muse and the Marketplace.  Grub Street is one of the largest independent creative writing centers in the United States. They have amazing writing workshops for adults and teens, support emerging talents, offer grants and awards and once a year they hold the conference which offers many writing workshops and also helps writers network with each other and with agents and editors. I’m actually teaching a workshop on Saturday.  It’s called “Page One, Your Friend or Foe?”  We’ll discuss favorite first lines of novels and then discuss the first lines of students’ works in progress.

The reason that I’m so keen on doing a workshop about first lines is because I’m working on a new book and am quite preoccupied with how it should begin.  First lines are so important. I rarely read the flap copy of books.  I’m not as interested in what the story is about, as I am in how it’s being told. If I find the writing compelling, I want to read it.  So I always open a book and read the first page when I’m considering buying a book.  I guess the first page is the book’s “curb appeal,” to me, much more so than the cover.

So, I’m interested in hearing your favorite first lines.  I’m going to hold off on sharing mine until after the conference.

Just a heads’ up that I might be in your vicinity this week and would love to meet you. This Wednesday, April 3rd, I will be talking about my book, The Good House, at the Princeton Public Library, in Princeton, NJ at 7 PM.  Here is more information about the event.

Then, on Saturday, April 6th, I will be at the Kent Town Hall doing an event to support the Kent Public Library in Kent, CT.  It’s at 3:00 and I will be discussing books, New England, the North Shore and I’m sure many other topics, with my friend Susanna Salk, who is a noted interior designer, author and TV personality. And she grew up in Manchester, MA. That’s Hildy country.  Here’s more information about the Kent talk, 

Happy Easter to all!

BUT THAT’S NO EXCUSE! I have neglected the blog.  I plan to start daily blogging again, as soon as I find my camera. In the meantime, I thought I’d post a few oldies this week.  Today I came across this, my experience with Zumba, back in 2010.

A Pelvis Story

Today, I decided to start off the new year by doing something I never do.  I decided to take a dance/exercise class.  A friend had told me about this fun  “Zumba” class.

”You just dance around to great music and the hour just flies by and at the end you’re drenched in sweat and laughing,” said she.
“I love to dance!” said I, and I recalled many hours at nightclubs, busting out my moves, being drenched in sweat and laughing away. The part I overlooked, in these rosy recollections, is that I was a) a teenager, b) drunk and c) dancing to the Ramones.  Dancing to the Ramones is pretty basic stuff.  Just a lot of jumping up and down and slamming your head from side-to-side so hard that your neck is sprained and the next day you have to have your boyfriend help you lift it off your pillow.  Ahhhhh. Good times.

So today, I headed off to the gym in my little sweat pants and tank and I met the instructor, who was also wearing little sweats and a tank, but she had a 20-year-old body that was muscular and sexy (that’s not her in the photo above, but you get the idea), while mine somehow manages to be both skinny and flabby.  Fleshy, I guess you’d say. Well, not really fleshy. Flappy.  There’s extra flesh that you don’t notice until I start waving my arms around.  Then you notice.

So we introduced ourselves and waited for the others to show up, and soon learned that there were going to be no others.  Just me and Miss Sexy Body.  Mrs. Flappy and Miss Sexy Body (let’s call her SB).  Together. Live.

“This is actually great, since it’s your first time,” SB said.  And then she turned the music on and immediately started moving her hips and arms and head in a rapid series of moves that had me at first wonder if she was having some sort of orgasmic seizure, until she told me, stomping and gyrating away, to just follow her moves.

“Feel free to lip-sync!” she said, “It helps you keep time!”  I don’t really know the words to songs by Shakira and was going to ask if she had any Etta James, because I really can lip-sync to old Etta.  You’d think I was her.  Really.  All I can say is thank goodness there were no others in the room as somebody could have been seriously injured by my staggering about; my knees flying up near my chin, my arms flailing from side to side. And my crazy pelvis that just moves in a circular series of hitches and tics. Of course, there was some tripping. I never actually hit the floor though. I’m pretty good at recovering my balance.

After the class, I went online to see what Zumba is really supposed to look like and I found this great video which features a dancer who emulates the Ann Leary technique.  She’s the one in the knee-length green pants.  Sort of to the left of the screen:

I hope Green Pants doesn’t sue me for pointing her out. It’s just uncanny, the way we dance alike. We could actually work out a routine and take our show on the road.

Tomorrow: Salsa!

Tomorrow I will be signing copies of The Good House in Washington Depot, Connecticut.

Tomorrow,  March 3rd at 2:00 PM.

I know what you’re all wondering. Will he be there?

Of course he will.  Right after his lunch.

Today I head back to Massachusetts for a reading in Marblehead at The Spirit of ’76 Bookstore.  The reading and signing begin at 7 PM and I hope to see some old friends while I’m in town.  I’d like to thank my old friend, journalist Laurie Fullerton, for writing this lovely piece in the Marblehead Reporter.

One of the themes of The Good House is the way that small businesses are having a hard time surviving, since they must compete with larger corporations and chain stores.  In fact, when I walked through the town of Marblehead recently, I looked for any small businesses that were still there. All but a few had been replaced by national chains. There were signs for several corporate real estate chains but no private firms. There’s now a Starbucks and a CVS, but the little family drugstore has been gone for years.

But the Spirit of ’76 Bookstore is still open and stands on the exact same corner where it has stood since I was in high school.  In fact, Bob Hugo, has owned and run the bookstore since 1965!  I’m not sure that it is the longest running privately-owned business in Marblehead, but it is certainly one of them.

If you can’t make the signing, but would like me to personalize a book for you or a friend, feel free to call The Spirit of ’76 today at 781-631-7199 and I will sign it while I’m there tonight.

The Spirit of ’76 Bookstore is named for the widely-reproduced Spirit of ’76 painting by Archibald MacNeal Willard.  This original painting hangs in Marblehead’s Abbot Hall.

I would also like to add that I have altered a previous post that announced the snow date for my signing at The Hickory Stick Bookshop here in Washington, Connecticut. The reading had been scheduled for last Saturday but was cancelled sue to snow.  Instead, it will be on Sunday, March 3rd, at 2:00 PM.  Not Saturday March 2, as I originally posted but Sunday.

Definitely Sunday. March 3rd. At 2:00.

I am not going to be able to sign books at The Hickory Stick Bookshop as planned today. Roads in Connecticut are closed.  Gomer and I will be there on Sunday, March 3rd at 2:00 PM.

Today we’re out playing in the snow.

It’s a daytime event, Gomer. Maybe just a nice blazer instead?

Yes, yes, there is a little snowstorm coming.  And, yes, I am scheduled to appear at The Hickory Stick Book Shop,  my favorite bookstore, tomorrow (Saturday) at 2:00 PM to sign copies of The Good House.  But don’t worry. The snow will be over by then.  How can I be so sure? I have a few connections. I happen to know Scot Haney personally and I’ve asked him to do some meteorological work on the forecast.  I think he’s moved the storm east a little, so the brunt will be felt in Massachusetts, which is fine, because they love the snow up there. They just love it.  You should see them outside after a storm with their snow shovels and tire chains, sporting about like playful penguins.  So thanks for that Scot.  And my good friend Leah’s husband is on the road crew in the town of Washington and even though he is at this moment lying in bed, shivering and sweating with fever, she has promised to dose him up with TheraFlu and TamiFlu and DayQuil and NyQuil and GetoffyersickbuttQuil and so the roads will all be clear by 2:00.

BUT, if for some reason you are unable to make it, I will still be happy to sign books for you.  Just call the Hickory Stick at their toll free number: 800-255-2665 and they’ll take your order. But try to come.  Gomer will be escorting me.

Reading at the Book Cellar in Chicago

Well, I had just a great time in the Midwest this past week.  Thanks to all of you who came to my Chicago and Milwaukee events.  I met some longtime bloggers in Chicago, which was fabulous.  I also got to have dinner with my sister’s in-laws, Dave and Jen Seminara and their adorable boys. Dave took the photo on this post. So, I just had a great, great time.

I’m heading up to Boston today for some press stuff and also to visit my mom and sister. Then I’m doing a reading at the Brookline Booksmith on Wednesday, February 6th.  7:00 PM.

I was going to bring Holly with me to Boston because I have been missing my family – husband, kids and animals quite a bit during my travels and I thought she would help me not miss them so much. But I cannot. Too many things to do today and it’s too cold to leave her in the car.  She she’ll stay here and keep the bed desk warm.

Speaking of the bed desk, remember how I posted about letting a NY Times photographer take a picture of me slouching in mine?  Well, the piece ran yesterday in the Sunday Styles section. Here’s a link. I had so much fun with Judith Newman, who wrote the piece.

Well, many, many thanks to all of you who have bought my book.  It’s on a few bestseller lists – most notably, THE TIMES!  And that’s thanks to all you readers.  I hope to meet some more of you on Wednesday!

Photo courtesy of Lynden Sculpture Garden

Yesterday, I was driving from Chicago to Milwaukee with my beloved sister Meg and my dear friend Jane. We were heading to Milwaukee, where I was scheduled to speak at the Lynden Sculpture Garden as part of their wonderful Women’s Speaker Series.

On the way, we stopped in Racine, Wisconsin and after much driving around, finally found a home where Meg and I had lived when we were children. Meg and I were just giddy recalling our friends, the places we had played, the pets we had owned, you know, all our adventures. Jane was very polite and didn’t yawn too many times. Then, we were back on the highway, heading toward Milwaukee, when my editor, Brenda Copeland called. Brenda asked, “Has anybody ever called you a bitch?”

“Yes,”  I said slowly. I thought she was angry about something I had done.

“Has anybody ever called you ‘baby’?”

“Yes,” was my reply. I thought she was fed up with how immature I am.

Then she asked, “Has anybody ever called you a NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR?” And then I said nothing because I had burst into tears which alarmed Meg and Jane, so I tried to put the phone on speaker, but instead somehow managed to videotape myself with the phone before it flew from my flailing hand and landed under my seat.   “Hello?  Hello Ann?” came Brenda’s little muffled voice from somewhere beneath my boots. I grabbed the phone to tell her how excited I was, but I was shaking and choking and accidentally hung up on her. Brenda, who thought I was driving, had only heard a loud wailing and then much cursing on my end, and then the phone was dead, and she thought I was dead too.

So that is how I came to know that my book hit the New York Times Bestseller List.

And it happened on the way to Milwaukee.  And I’ll always love Milwaukee for the rest of my life.

Last night’s event at the Lynden Sculpture Garden was great because I met so many wonderful women, but the most wonderful of all was our very own “Wendy From Wisconsin,” who has been commenting on this blog for years. As some of you might recall, Denis and met Wendy and her husband Ken at the airport in Rome last summer, quite by happenstance, while we were all awaiting flights back to the United States. Well, when Wendy learned that I was going to be reading and signing books in Milwaukee, she changed her travel plans just to come to the reading!

Wendy and me

Yes, Wendy had booked a flight to San Diego for a trip with her husband and she postponed it to attend the event. Not only that, but she brought the most delightful gift bag filled with wonderful travelers items: luxury bath salts and wonderful little travel-sized face products and teas and Godiva chocolates. She is just the most thoughtful, dear person and I can’t thank her enough. Also, thanks to Alexandra, a cool blogger who brought me a fab Wisconsin hunter’s cap and a Green Bay Packer’s jersey for Denis, who is a huge Packers fan.

I like to incorporate dance in my readings

That’s Meg next to me

So I love you Wisconsin!

Now we’re back in Chicago. I’ll be doing a reading at The Book Cellar tonight.  Can’t wait!