Blog A Go-Go

In which I have a perfect weekend

I had a perfect weekend. It began Friday with very lovely news from my British publisher and my agent. (See "In which I may be funny in the UK" for the former.) I spent Friday morning at the May crowning celebration honoring the Virgin Mary at my daughter's school, and the rest of the day with her and my mother being fabulous together--lunch, shopping. (When you're sitting under a gorgeous, cloudless blue sky and you suddenly realize all of your daughter's classmates, including her, aren't children anymore--they're TEENAGERS--it's quite comforting to sing "Salve Regina". It was one of those wonderful, terrible, joyful moments when you feel the tectonic plates of your life shift ever so slightly and you realize the child you adore is moving fractionally further into her own life.)

Saturday we got up early and went to the farmers' market to buy obscene amounts of goat cheese and freshly-baked whole wheat bread, salad greens and the first strawberries of the season. There were even chocolate truffles, boxed and tied with pretty ribbons. That afternoon we went to a William and Mary baseball game, and if you haven't ever attended a college game, go--this weekend. I saw everything you could possibly want to see in a game. There were a few two-run homers, two runners caught in a rundown, a couple of gorgeous double plays, and one foul so sharp it nearly took a fan's head off. We were lucky enough to sit in a box, and the seats were superb. And let me just say, any stadium that plays "Cecilia" during the changeover is a stadium I will visit anytime.

Sunday I went hiking--yes, you read that correctly. HIKING. For three miles. We found a nature trail that circles a wetland conservancy, and saw all sorts of gorgeous things: a stately goose with her train of fluffy goslings, glamorous white herons, a cranky duck, loads of squirrels, a trembly black snake, and more deer than you can possibly imagine, some as close as twenty feet. It felt impossibly good just to be outside, and I was forcibly reminded that being a writer is as bad for your body as it is good for your mind. The antidote is always movement, and a few miles in the fresh air will blow any cobwebs out of your head. After the hike, only Mexican food with ice-cold beer would do--the perfect end to the perfect weekend.

In between, there were random moments of reading, knitting, sipping tea, and watching movies. It was a very ordinary weekend, full of ordinary things, but in the end, I think that's the very best sort.

Here I am multitasking this weekend:

In which I am six

No, I'm not channeling Eloise. I just want this Fairy Castle. Not to play with. To LIVE IN. This utterly perfect creation was the pet project of silent film star Colleen Moore. It currently lives in Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. Be sure to click on the tab labeled "the exhibit" and take the full tour. It is magical.

In which I have friends, redux

Pictures from Phoenix!

The first photo is a group shot of me with an amazing group of friends who asked intelligent, thoughtful questions and made me look very clever for having them as friends in the first place. The second is a shot of the panel during discussion: myself, Barbara Peters (bookstore owner extraordinaire--who was sporting a kicky pedicure in OPI's "I'm Not Really a Waitress"), and Suzanne Arruda (author of the Jade del Cameron series). The last is me, signing. I'm not looking up because I have to focus when I'm writing. I have actually managed to misspell my own name during a signing. I wish I were joking.

In which I am reviewed, interviewed, and nominated!

I promised good things today, and I have a basketful of them--nice little silver linings, all of them. First, I have reviews for Silent in the Sanctuary. Mark at Book Cove Reviews posted this review last week. Book Cove Reviews is a year-old site that seems to be growing by the day. Diana from Romance Reviews Today posted her review this week and was inspired to go out and get the first book in the series to round out her collection. Thanks, Diana and Mark!

Also, my interview with the charming Scott Pack is up on his blog, Me and My Big Mouth Scott is the big kahuna of The Friday Project, a web to press publishing company--the world's first, I believe. He had already posted a review of Silent in the Grave--a wonderful review, actually--and asked some very interesting questions. He's the first interviewer to wonder aloud if Brisbane is my type! (You'll have to read the answer to find out. There is also a picture of Emma the Yellow Wonder Dog looking supremely bored with me.) Once you've read the interview, be sure to check out The Friday Project. I am drooling over some of those titles--particularly Eat Britain! (I have an unholy passion for British food. And apparently British bloggers...the next time I make it to London, I am going to have to stand SEVERAL rounds at the pub, I fear. The Britons have been very generous with their praise and I am wholly charmed by them.)

And for some very excellent SQUEEEE-worthy news, Silent in the Grave has received a nomination from the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association for a Dilys Award !!! This is the award that the booksellers present to the book they found most fun to sell. (I could not have chosen a category I would be more excited about, believe me!) In an interesting twist, last year's presenter of the Dilys, Barbara Peters, happens to own the Poisoned Pen in Arizona--the bookstore hosting a signing for me this Saturday! (Don't forget if you're in the Phoenix area I will be at the Poisoned Pen on Saturday, the 19th, at 1:00pm. For more details, check the left sidebar of the blog under "Appearances".)

In which I am tested

My new Scarlett O'Hara philosophy is being severely tested. No need to go into details--it's probably  more fun if you make them up yourself. Suffice it to say that outside of my immediate family, lots of things are going wrong right now--big and little and medium-sized things. Some are things that make me sad, others are things that make me want to shriek until the sun shrivels up and turns black from fear. But here's what they all have in common: I can't do a damn thing about them.

I have a life philosophy, a tiny one but it suits me well. I don't know if this applies to anybody but me, but what I have noticed is that whatever situations I am most afraid of are the ones that keep returning. Whatever virtues I need to master are pointed out time and again by their absence. Whatever skills I most need to acquire are the ones most often demanded. And these situations come around over and over, testing me until I prove to myself that I have mastered something.

For me, the most terrifying thing to face is nothingness--a great, gaping uncertainty where I would like a neat and tidy path. Over the years, I have gotten better and being able to let tiny situations go, one at a time. I grit my teeth and smile and say, Yes, I have learned how to sit with uncertainty. I invite it to tea parties and we are old friends. But we really aren't. I'm faking it, and whatever great and cosmic force out there that shapes us all knows it. Each time this lesson has come around, it has come a little more brutally until this time, when there is so much unknowable right now, it takes my breath away. And the antidote to this, I have learned and try so hard to remember, is to acknowledge what I AM certain of, and accept that I am ignorant of the rest.

So it turns out, there is something I can do after all. I can be happy. I can be grateful for the things that aren't going wrong. I can keep doing the work that gives me so much pleasure. I can kiss my husband and raise my beautiful child. I can hug my parents. I can send bits of me out into the universe and know that however much I give freely and without expectation will eventually find its way back to me multiplied by a mathematical power of infinite generosity. And I can know that eventually, everything will be well. Because the other lesson I've learned is this: if I could arrange everything to my personal satisfaction, I would never even begin to be as generous with myself as life itself is. So I'm going to sit back and ride this one out and see where it all ends up. I know that it will be a far better place than I could ever have reached on my own even if I can't see it on the horizon just yet.

(This concludes a very "in the kitchen with Oprah" kind of post. Tomorrow I'm back with some VERY good news!)