Sorry I'm late in posting this and I'm even sorrier to say that this will be an abbreviated version--computer problems, deadlines and life have interfered--but come right back because we have a special guest, fellow St. Martin's Press author Toni McGee Causey coming by soon!

 Okay, and now, back to boiled peanuts...

So I recently  got back from an amazing trip down South.  In a little under a week, I hit Nashville, Decatur, Atlanta and  Nashville again. And in the words of my dear friend, Tasha Alexander, this journey is blog worthy. 

I touched down in Nashville and Tasha gave me the grand tour, pointing out places of interest, including the big recording companies.  an amazing bookstore named Davis Kidd  and of course we had to see where Faith Hill does her grocery shopping.

The plan was to hang out in Nashville for the day and then Tasha and I would drive down to Atlanta for the Decatur Book Festival, however, when we got out to the car, we saw that weren't going anywhere fast. Tasha's front tire--flat as a pancake! Pulling a bit of the damsel in distress card, we luckily found a service station and a mechanic nearby who liked us well enough to fix us up in no time flat (sorry, couldn't resist!) and get us back on the road.

The drive from Nashville to Decatur is a pretty one, right along the foothills of the Smoky Mountains.  And of course there are temptations all along to the way, things like the Jack Daniels Distillery  (which of course made us think of J.A. Konrath's novels) and wholesale fireworks from  a place called Big Daddy's Bang-Bang or something like that. And then, (technically this happened on the drive back) we just couldn't resist  the  roadside peaches and pecans, all tucked inside a little shack that also sells moonshine jelly which  I haven't  figured out an application for just yet. And of course, being a northerner, I had never  before experienced Chick-Fil-A which for some reason I kept calling Chick-a-dees and Chick-a-delites but Tash got the idea--food, I needed food!

So after a chick-a-something,  there we were, driving along and of course, Tasha and I didn't take into account the hour time difference which put us into Atlanta just in time to experience their infamous rush hour traffic. 

Finally, a little cranky and thirsty, we arrived in Decatur where we got together with my best buddy, Mindy for some refreshments before the three of us met up with Karen Abbott  and her hubby, Chuck, and my hostess, the fabulous Janet  and headed over to  The Colonnade for dinner.  I said I wanted a real southern meal and I got one.  When they said I got two sides, with my chopped steak, I splurged for a third just because I couldn't decide what was more authentic southern cuisine: blackeyed peas, mustard greens or fried okra. I'm still not sure which is more authentic, but I do know that of all the sides, I seemed to have liked Mindy's sweet potato fries the best--yes, I had a case of food envy! 

The next day, Mindy and I headed over to the Book Festival where we caught part of Tasha's panel discussion and from there, we caught  Joshilyn Jackson's charming and witty discussion with Frank Turner Hollon.  Also had the fastest ever face-to-face meeting with author Sheila Curran, before we dashed off to see Jon Clinch over at Twain's where he was reading from his novel, FINN.

That night, Janet, Mindy and their friend Nita took me to a fabulous restaurant called Two Urban Licks which, if you're ever in Atlanta, you must go--this one is a run, don't walk! Then we were back to Janet's castle--I mean, staying at her home was a like staying at a luxury resort. Plus, Janet's place is home to "The Chair" which became my lucky writing spot. In one day I trashed about 7,600 words but picked up another 2,600 and all those were keepers! I made more progress on my new novel in "the chair" than I had in weeks. 

So very happy and inspired, the next day a carload of women headed to Marietta for a street fair and along the way, I learned that there was such a thing as boiled peanuts only I thought they came in a bag. I didn't realize that they are literally cooking away in a vat of peanut soup.  Since I'd already tried my mustard greens and fried okra, I was all prepared to try a boiled peanut, but when we finally tracked one down--in some hole in the wall halfway back to Nashville--I'm afraid my O.C.D. kicked in big time. I took one look and thought, there's just no way I can ingest that.

Pulling into Nashville on a Monday evening, all Tasha and I wanted to do was have a nice glass of wine and relax. But turns out you can't purchase wine on Labor Day,  but you can however illogical it may sound, purchase a buttload of  beer instead.  Wasn't exactly what we had our hearts set on, but it apparently did the trick, because one or two bottles later, I became a Wii boxing champ and a Wii tennis star. I'm telling you if I had one of these gadgets, I'd never write another word. It is addictive--proceed with caution!

And so, there you have my trip--in a boiled peanut nutshell!  Sorry I had to leave you the abbreviated version but do come back soon and meet Toni McGee Causey!

I'm so excited to have author, Laura Florand pop by today for a visit. Laura, as you'll come to see, has led a most interesting  life and luckily for us, she has written all about it in her current book, Blame It On Paris.

ABOUT BLAME IT ON PARIS 

"Eleven o’clock on a Friday night.  The seamy, sex-obsessed center of Paris.  I balanced over a Turkish toilet in a tiny bistro, one stiletto heel propped against the wall to make some kind of writing table out of my knee, trying desperately not to touch anything around me as I wrote an invitation…. " Thus begins BLAME IT ON PARIS, Laura Florand’s hilarious and moving true story of a French-American romance between two people, two families, and two cultures. 

What does happen when you put a small-town Georgian in Paris and a handsome, sophisticated Parisian in small-town Georgia?  Especially when two huge families, one French and the other American, decide it’s up to them to further this romance.  The Parisian’s family wants Laura to learn how to prepare snails, while Laura’s family keeps serving Sébastien Mad Dog 20/20 as good wine.  How will true love survive?   
 Buy Blame It On Paris Now!

 Time For A Little Q & A With Laura

RR: Hey Laura. Welcome.  Let's get started with an easy one. When you're not writing, you're ___________.

LF: When I'm not writing, there's a good chance I'm cooking.  During the work day, if I get really stuck, I often cook for creative energy.  Of course, there’s also a good chance I’m out walking, playing with my baby, teaching, dancing…I’ve got a pretty full schedule.

RR: When did you know you wanted to be writer? And did anyone in particular encourage you along the way?

LF:  When I was nine years old, we were assigned a short story for a class.  I and my best friend and bitter rival for who could be the biggest teacher’s pet kept calling each other all evening to report how long ours were.  Hers kept getting longer than mine, which was a problem, because I’d had the big dénouement at page 4.  She kept calling back, and I kept having to try to tack on something to keep it going.  She won.  Hers was 12 pages and mine was only 9.  Not to mention that hers made sense.  I have never gotten over it and blame it on her big handwriting.

I have been writing pretty much daily since then.  Since all the writing magazines I began reading at nine said you had to submit, submit, submit, I have also been submitting my stories and poems to major magazines (Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, New Yorker) since I was nine years old.  I can only imagine what those editors must have thought.  I have a notebook with pages and pages filled with name of story/poem, date of submission, market, date of reply.  They also have columns for “Amount Paid” and “Payment Received” that are, strangely, all blank. 

I didn't’t actually get any positive feedback until age 16, when I won a poetry contest and $50 for what is truly the most awesome villanelle in the world, second only to Dylan Thomas’s.  However, it is so sappy I won’t share it.  I also wrote three or four books during my teenage years, or, as editors put it, “what I called books at the time.”  I actually wrote a “book” that was the story of an Eve (yes, that Eve) who participated in most major events throughout history AND pre-history.  I think it was about 80 pages long.  I still had that length problem, as you see.  Fortunately for my reputation, these and other endeavors were all on floppy discs that worked only on an Apple IIC, and they have been lost to posterity

The moral of this story is:  when people tell you to back up all your work and make hard copies, don’t necessarily listen.  Use your own best judgment.

RR:  Are you currently working on a new novel/project? And if so, can you tell us what it's about?

LF:  I just finished LA VIE EN ROSES, a novel set around Grasse, the centuries-old perfume capital of France.  An American woman named Jolie finds herself with a house and part of one of the last great French rose fields on her hands.  She falls in love with it, but she also finds that her ownership of it is being disputed by the great rose-producing Legrand clan.  And the eldest son and heir in that clan is quite cute, in his difficult way…

It’s a pure take-off on one of my favorite fairy tales, from her family, whose fortunes reversed in the tech crash, to her father’s gift to her of this house and rose field in order to get out of trouble, to the sibling rivalry with her two sisters.  I wanted to call it PRETTY AND THE BEAST, which is still quite my most favorite title of all time, but everyone else just looked at me funny when I suggested it.  I have that trouble with titles.

RR:   What's your favorite part of writing?  Starting something new? Revising what you've already got drafted? Developing characters? The plot?  Something else all together?

LF:  I like that daydreaming time, you know, when you’re falling asleep or driving and story ideas start coming to you and scenes generate.  Like any dream, it’s never as vivid and wonderful on paper as it is in your head, so that’s probably my favorite time.  But I also love it when everything just clicks in terms of writing that day, and I’m typing away at a great pace, things just flowing out.  And I love it when I re-read something, sometimes even something I didn’t think I was good as I was drafting, and I realize that it is in fact good, much better than I realized.  And I love writing dialogue so much that I usually have to go back and cut massive amounts of it in the revision process.
 
Of course, there are a lot of days when it’s like pulling those non-existent hen’s teeth to get something on paper and I realize something isn’t any good at all when I re-read it, so…let’s just concentrate on the positives, right?

Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when you got the call--I'm talking, the call--when you learned that you had sold your novel/project?

LF:  I was at my computer writing another book. 

RR: Central Casting: If they were to make a movie out of your book, who would you cast to play your main characters?

LF:  That’s always a tricky question, since my characters are real people and I have a hard time imagining anyone else in their shoes.  I would like to go back in time and have Lauren Bacall play me, though.  It’s a fantasy of mine to look and act like Lauren Bacall in To Have and Have Not or The Big Sleep.  I suspect the director would choose someone with a much ditzier persona, alas.  You just can’t see Lauren Bacall with those snails.  You just can’t.

RR:  What's the one book that you wish you'd read because everyone tells you should. This is the one book that you keep attempting to read, the one everyone praises, but alas the one you just can't get through.

LF:  Well.  While I don’t in any way wish to read these books, or I would do it, there are a few books that I wish I had read without somehow having to read them, so that I could discourse intelligently about them.  The standout there is Proust, which no self-respecting professor of French is supposed to have not read, but somehow I managed it.  I’ve read plenty of excerpts, though, if that counts for much.
 
It’s a bit like wishing I had climbed Mt. Everest so that I could say I had done it, without ever wishing to engage in any part of the mountain climbing experience—the cold, the shortage of oxygen, the hard work.  You get the picture.

Laura Florand is a native of the Deep South who began travelling the world when she was seventeen, backpacking solo through Greece.  She went on to win a Fulbright to Tahiti and then to study French literature at Duke University.  In addition to the year in Tahiti, she has lived in Madrid and Paris.  Now a senior lecturing fellow at Duke and a new mother of one, she divides her time between North Carolina, where she also leads a Tahitian dance group, and France.  For more information, please see her website: www.lauraflorand.com.  

Thanks to Laura and everyone else for stopping by.  It's up, up and away for me as a I catch a flight early tomorrow for Nashville and then from there, I'm off to Atlanta--But I'll be back soon with plenty of tales to tell!  

Here we are in the home stretch. Hang on...

Saturday...

Saturday started with a reading and signing at Barnes & Noble where some unexpected folks showed up, including my neighbor from across the street, friends from my high school days and some other people whom I haven't seen in fifteen or twenty years--maybe even longer. 

I think of all the readings I've given, this one was both the most fun and the most difficult. So many people there seemed to know my backstory--they knew where my story began and where Nina's took off. And then of course, there's all the assumptions that people make about what was and wasn't true. I must confess that I'd never felt quite so naked in public before. And yet--not that I recommend going naked in public--there was something very freeing about it all.

And oh, before I forget, I want to thank Kelly Fogel, the Community Relations Manager at Barnes & Noble for all her support!

After the signing we swung by Swensons--an Akron landmark and a real old-fashion car hop, just like they had in Happy Days. Best burgers and fries you're likely to find in all of Ohio.

I got back to my mother's just in time to get a wee bit of writing done before it was time to get ready for party central.  Saturday night, my sister and favorite brother-in-law graciously opened their home to about 50  plus people who came to wish me well and celebrate Every Crooked Pot. 

Thinking I was all done with public speaking, I had already enjoyed several glasses of wine (thanks to my favorite brother-in-law, who hates to see me with an empty glass) when someone asked if I'd do a reading.  Turns out I read pretty well when I'm tipsy or maybe I sound better to people who themselves have been drinking. Either way, note to self: down two glasses of wine and get your crowd loaded before doing any public speaking! 

After the party--which was lovely (thank you Pam, Andy and Joey!)  we moved the party to a bar around the corner where we met up with some other Firestone High School Alumni  and among them was Rick  whom I hadn't realized was the founding father of the Mad Marauders. Something else I didn't know was that Rick has a very famous aunt who many regard as literary royalty.  I won't go public with it here, but trust me when I say that it was pretty cool. Rick along with other Mad Marauders, David and Kirk   and I had fun catching up  with the rest of the gang who vowed that  we were going to plan our 30th (ouch!) High School Reunion--Look out Akron, that will be some shindig! 

After taking a long and winding road through Fairlawn Heights while Stephanie and I were trying to find our way back to West  Market Street (what can I say--we've been away from Akron for a few years) I made it back to my mother's where I'm sure I had stayed out way past my curfew. Pyack, as we like to call her, and I stayed up till the wee hours of the morning talking and before I knew it, it was time to get up, get packed and get to the airport.

And so there you have it... I went back to Ohio and I'm oh so glad I did. Thanks for sharing the journey with me.

So welcome back for Part Two of my Akron visit... here goes....

Wednesday...

After an early morning interview with the West Side Leader which  is scheduled to run in the August 30th issue, I had intended to spend the rest of the day writing, but my mother sensed that I was a little tense and made an appointment for me to get  a little manicure / pedicure action. Bless her heart!

And then that evening my sister,  my favorite brother-in-law, my nephew and my mother's neighbor came over  for steaks on the grill followed by a little friendly game of poker. And let me just say, this is a competitive group of card players. They take their nickel and dime bets very seriously and when all was said and done, my nephew had cleaned us all out.

Thursday....

The week was flying by and I was trashing almost as many words as I was writing, but such is the process. Oh how quickly we forget what it takes to start a new novel. Really, it is like finding the starting point on a roll of cellophane tape--I go round and round until something catches.  So Thursday I was determined to spend the bulk of the day writing, even if most of it ended up being deleted. That was the plan, but an invite to lunch with one of my mother's friends was too tempting to pass up!

Before I knew it, it was time to head to the Akron Public Library where I was speaking and reading from Every Crooked Pot.  Let me just say that this is a brand new library and it's a spectacular facility!  You can tell that the community is very involved in the local library and it's wonderful. If I still lived in Akron, I know I would be a frequent visitor. The people who came out for this event were true book lovers and we had a great discussion about writing, about authors, about books in general.  Thanks to all who came out and joined in the conversation!

Friday...

About twenty years ago,my two childhood friends, Harvey Nelson and Steve Marks decided to go into business together. The result is Main Street Gourmet.  You may not think you know the name, but chances are, you know their muffins, cookies and other products. This is a huge operation and I was lucky enough to drop by 170  Muffin Lane (yes, they have a lane named after them.)  We always knew SME (or Steve Mark Enterprise as we called him growing up) was going to do something big and that he has. Main Street Gourmet is a most impressive company and this kind of success could not happen for two nicer guys--congrats to you both!

From Muffin Lane my mother and I went to the charming town of Hudson and paid a visit to The Learned Owl Book Shop, a wonderful independent book store that I could have spent the entire day getting lost inside of, but my mother had to keep us on a schedule. So off we went to another nearby charming town called Peninsula where we had a lunch at one of the local spots and then, we dropped into the The Blue Heron Bookstore. Again, I was lost in a world of books and could have curled up in one of their over-stuffed chairs and read for hours, but thanks to my mother, The Every Crooked Pot Express had to keep moving.

I got home in time just to check emails and then it was off to my sister and favorite brother-in-law's for ribs and fresh corn and a chance to visit with my step-niece, Stacey who had just come in from New York.  I don't know that there is technically any such thing as a Step Aunt but my sister likes to say that I'm Stacey's STAMP even though we realized it makes no sense. It should be STANT which makes it even less sense--so just go with STAMP, we do!

After dinner, I headed way down memory lane and ended up back in the kitchen of my dear friend Stephanie's. There we were again, Stephanie, Lori,  Stephanie's Mother, Harriet (who will always be Mama Nelson to me!) and Stephanie's adorable daughter, Lizzie.  It was just like old times--sitting around the table (a new one and not the white one with the yellow swivel chairs we occupied through most of high school) with a beer (none for Lizzie) and shooting the breeze with Mama Nelson.  This was the kitchen that inspired several scenes in Every Crooked Pot.  And yes, Mama Nelson was the one with the terra cotta bust that provided us with hours of amusement.  Such a treat that was being back in that house!  Like no time had passed

But looking at the clock just now, it's already after 9:00 and I see that a lot of time has passed blogging, so I'm going to sign off for now and get down to the business of writing. 

Tune in tomorrow for Back To Ohio Part Three...

If you've read Every Crooked Pot then you know the story takes place in Akron, Ohio and tucked in between the pages are all kinds of references to my hometown.  Just last week I was home for a week of book promotions, peppered with readings, signings, a radio and newspaper interview and a chance to visit with family and friends. And before I go any further, let me just take a moment to say that there's a lot more to Akron, Ohio than you might think. For example, my high school, Firestone High School was attended by Chrissy Hines, the members of DEVO and a singer by the name of Rachel Sweet, who as I remember  it performed (among other things) the original rendition of "I'm Chiquita Banana and I'm Here To Say..." Could be urban myth, but that's the way I remember it.

For me, going back to Akron was a trip down memory lane.  So take a wander with me as I hit upon the highlights of a return to my hometown... It started out with a bang (though thank God not literally) as my sixteen year old nephew picked me up at the airport and drove me back to my mother's.

Sunday...

The next morning bright and early, I arrived at the Beth El Sisterhood Brunch. I was nervous about speaking there, but all my jitters disappeared when I saw so many familiar faces, including Mrs. Portman's.  I grew up with her twin daughters and for those of you who read the book,  it was her dryer that we rode around in. Turns out, all these years we thought no one knew about our dryer runs, but not only did Mrs. Portman know, but she also informed me that it was a gas dryer--oy! 

Another treat was to see my next door neighbors, Mrs. Glauberman and her daughter Susan  who was in visiting from New York.  Even as a teenager, Susan was always more New York than Akron. I have vivid memories of her forward fashion sense which included a dress made entirely of paper.

Thanks to Ellen Moss and other members of the Beth El Sisterhood for having me to their brunch!

Monday...
The torrential downpour the next morning didn't stop my mother and I from heading up to Cleveland for a radio interview with Jim McIntyre on WDOK FM 102.  Jim was great, put me very much as ease and just as soon as we have an air date, I will let you all know.

Then I got back to Akron just in time to meet up with Ellie and Lori for lunch at the Sandwich Board. Ellie is a real trouper, too, having just completed a 60 mile Breast Cancer Walk the day before.  See, now here's one big difference between Ellie and Me. She walks to find a cure for Breast Cancer and I walk for cake (referencing an earlier blog entry for those of you who are new here).  Anyway, so Ellie, Lori and I were reminiscing and even before our salads arrived (and by the way, I highly recommend their Pea Salad!) Lori had Stephanie on the her cell phone down in Columbus.  "You have to come up this weekend, Stephie!"  Ah, I sensed a reunion was in the works... 

But first, I had a special evening with my mother and two couples (The Weins and the Ekuses--plural of Ekus)who have been part of my extended family for as long as I can remember.  They took me to a lovely restaurant, the Big City Chophouse  and we had a great meal and laughed till we cried, remembering my father, who really was just as outrageous as Artie Goldman.

Tuesday...

 I spent the bulk of the day writing and then went with my mother  for dinner with the Tuesday Night Spaghetti Club. This is worthy of its own blog entry if not an entire novel...

Picture if you will, a restaurant that hasn't changed a single thing since the 70s--and that includes the prices.  My mother and about a dozen of her friends go there every Tuesday night for their Spaghetti Special: salad (iceberg lettuce), spaghetti (not pasta) with a meatball (if you're lucky) garlic bread (one piece per customer) and a beverage (no wine or hard suff) for $5.00.  I of course blew the budget by ordering the blue cheese (.95 cents extra).

Now keep in mind, that all members of the Tuesday Night Spaghetti Club are fairly affluent--they could have blue cheese dressing whenever they wanted. They could actually go to a real restaurant and have a real meal. But instead they go  to this place each week because...well, come to think of it, they're not even sure why they keep going back. But they do and if I could, I would bring in a film crew to capture it all.  I may have to circle back and elaborate on it all in order to do it justice. But for now, take my word what goes on at the Tuesday Night Spaghetti Club is priceless stuff.

It ws hard breaking away, but after the big supper, I met up with some long lost friends, Michelle and Eliot, Harvey and his wife, Kim. We sat on Eliot and Michelle's beautiful back porch, had some wine and caught up. More on Harvey in the next installment as I make a visit to 170 Muffin Lane...

Check back tomorrow for Back To Ohio Part Two...