Friday, January 22nd, 2010
This is my third grade class photo. The blouse was silk, the vest was velvet, and though you obviously can’t see them in this photo, the culottes were tweed and brown.
That’s right. Culottes. 1880s newspaper delivery boy knickers updated for the 1980s. Modern pantaloons.
The three elements of this outfit–blouse-vest-culottes–were never separated from one another. Never did I wear the blouse sans vest under my baby blue monogrammed sweater*. Never did I wear the vest over my Cheryl Tiegs brand plaid blouse with ruffles down the front*. Never did I wear the brown tweed culottes with my purple, teal and magenta batwing velour sweater*. BLOUSE-VEST-CULOTTES. It’s as if the whole outfit would self-destruct in a conflagration of bad fashion if one element was removed from the ensemble as a whole.
*Not hypothetical. These are actual descriptions of clothing I once owned and wore and will perhaps post on this blog in the future.
This was my “special occasion” hair. On any ordinary day, my hair was less…flouffy. I can’t even begin to explain what’s happening with the triangular swoop of bang across my forehead. I only know that such special occasion hair could only be made possible through the use of….
Foam.
Rollers.
My mother was a big believer in the pink foam rollers. (Rollers, Maybelline mascara and Oil of Olay night cream. That’s the extent of beauty knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. My mother is a natural babe so that minimal routine served her well. It’s all she needed. Not to be too unkind to my younger self, but suffice it to say that I required a bit more assistance than that.) Long ago my mom upgraded to hot rollers. The problem with rollers of any kind is that I never learned how to roll my own, so to speak. My mom always rolled for me which she gladly did for just about every special occasion from this third grade class photo up to my senior prom and even some very recent book signings when I didn’t want to shell out for a blowout. The downside to putting mom in charge of all my good hair days is that I’m 36 years old and DON’T KNOW HOW TO STYLE MY OWN HAIR. If you ever see me and my hair is styled in any way but a ponytail or a sloppy bun I DIDN’T DO IT. I’m a capable person in many ways but styling my own hair isn’t one of them.
Tags: (retro)photo Friday, 1982
Wednesday, October 3rd, 2007
Before Sloppy Firsts sold, I paid an editor to read my draft and give me suggestions as to how I could make it better. I remember agreeing with most of what she said, and was happy to revise those problematic sections to strengthen the story. I still have that pragmatic approach to all revisions. I consider what’s being said, take what I need, and–as objectively as possible–think through, then defend my reasons for not incorporating the rest.
However, there were a few editorial points in that first round that I disagreed with: 1.) That it was unlikely that anyone like Hy would go undercover at a high school. 2.) That no school would allow a student like Marcus in its Honors classes after returning from rehab. 3.)The Sloppy Firsts joke between Jessica and Marcus was crass and made no sense whatsoever.
Wednesday, October 3rd, 2007
More of my arguments against a first reader’s edit suggestions: 4.) Carrie B. served no purpose.
Monday, October 1st, 2007
The (retro)blog returns!
(With occasional postings from the here and now about the progress of the fifth and final Jessica Darling book, appearances, books you should read, songs I’ve sung just because someone asked me to and other flights of randomness.)
Sunday, July 22nd, 2007
My agent advised me to write a personal pitch letter to include with the partial Sloppy Firsts manuscript when she submitted it to publishers. Here is a page of my rough draft, in which I try to convince potential publishers that my comic coming-of-age novel is different from others out there.
Friday, July 20th, 2007
Month-to-month mapping of the plot to Sloppy Firsts…
Friday, July 20th, 2007
Plotting…mapping…trying to figure out what happens when…
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