WHAT I DID ON MY WEEKEND VACAY...

CAN YOU FIND...

The mama and baby monk seal in the rocks on this beach?

I got to play with other authors on the island of Kauai. We were all invited to speak at a literary festival called Celebrate Reading this past weekend.
It was quite thrilling. Christopher Moore talked about his book FOOL. Markus Zusak discussed THE BOOK THIEF. I talked about LOTTERY. My friend Kaui Hart Hemmings talked about her book THE DESCENDANTS. Kiana Davenport talked about THE HOUSE OF MANY GODS. Witi Ihimaera talked about WHALE RIDER.Plus Kealoha did his nationally recognized slam poetry.
It was great fun to chat in our "green room" and compare horrible reviews, emails from readers who tell us all the mistakes in our books and each time someone comes up to us and says, "And you are WHO??? Have I ever heard of you? Have I read your book???"

Unfortunately Chris sneaked away before we could snap the photo but I can photo shop him in later...
After we were done for the day everyone else went back to Oahu and I got to do a gig with Kealoha at a coffee shop later for the Kauai Backstory Writers Group. It was great fun...And a COFFEE SHOP? Well I was in caffeine heaven.
Anyway...
The point of this post is that just talking to readers and other authors for two days got me so charged up that I was anxious to get back to work.
I hadn't realized how drained I was working on my current project.
It felt so good I'm going to ask you all for "recharge" suggestions.

THERE IS NOTHING IN LIFE THAT CANNOT BE FIXED BY WEARING A TIARA...

I wasn't a cheerleader. I wasn't homecoming queen or even runner up. When I went to proms we were protesting the war in Vietnam and frilly dresses and tiaras were oh so out.
Long hair and unshaved airpits were in.
Suffice it to say I never had an opportunity to wear a tiara.

But I wanted one.
Oh how I wanted one. I walked by shops and they would call to me.
"Hey you! Yeah. You loser. You never were crowned Miss Pea Patch 1967. Or San Juan County Fair Queen."
My deepest darkest desire. Not the winning of the crown.
The wearing of it.
Flash forward fift...er just flash forward.
So I walk by this shop and I see the tiaras in the window.
What was I waiting for? Permission?
I bought one. I didn't even lie and say it was for my daughter. No sir. I said it was for me.
Tiaras are interesting. You don't squash them onto your head like a headband. They are pinned. I had to go to Longs Drugstore for bobbypins.
I have my tiara. My life is complete. And I got to thinking...
How many times in your life do you not get want you want because you don't give yourself permission to go for it?
Let's each find our own unique tiara.
And I give you all permission to go out and get it.
Today.
And let me know what it is.
On your mark.
Get set.
TIARA.

A JEN-YOU-WHINE TIKI BAR

So where's a Tiki Bar when you need one?
The answer?
Here in Hawaii...I could just imagine the end-of-the-line "gumshoe' sitting there nursing his bloody mary at 11 am.
Heck.
I wanted to write about him.
Just the atmosphere made me want to sit down and type out a few thousand words of pulp fiction.
Reminded me of Firesign Theater...
"There she was...at the top of the stairs...all those curves under that flimsy burnoose..."

I guess ya had to be there.
Inspiration strikes again.

oh and Tooloose is now working on a alien space monkey detective story set in New Orleans.
"But you've never been to New Orleans!" I told him.
And he replied that he'd never been to the planet Goroptia either but he's writing about that...


FYI:
I did an academic piece in this journal.: REVIEW OF DISABILITY STUDIES
About a GREAT book by Andrew Beierle called FIRST PERSON PLURAL

DINGHYS GONE WILD...OR BLAME IT ON THE GAS FILTER...

It was supposed to have been a leisurely motor around the harbor. Maybe swing by the fuel dock for an ice cream. Poke our noses out and watch the surfers at Inbetweens and Kaisers and check out the fishermen throwing their lines off Ala Moana.
Aw heck lets go a little further.
Oops it's rolling swells.
I'm getting wet.
Lets turn around.
Clunk.
Sudden silence where there should have been a gently humming outboard engine.

Me: "Honey is there something wrong with the engine?"

Him: (growling) "No."

Me: "Are you sure sweetie?"

Him: (growling louder while pulling the ropey starter thingy) YES I'M SURE!!!"

Me: "Should we ask those nice men laughing on the shore to help us?"

Him: "NO!!!"
Let's just say we were lucky to have a pair of oars.
Rowing hard against the wind and current. The threat of the rocky breakwater. Blisters forming on tender fingers that should have been typing away on a keyboard...all this and more.
But I have to admit it was fun imagining the headlines.

"Author lost at sea. Husband says 'she was right there and then I turned around and she was gone.'"

Look at the bright side. Signed works always rise in value on ebay after the artist dies mysteriously.