Open Boxes: A Book Review

When Christine Organ asked me to review her brand new book, Open Boxes: the gifts of living a full and connected life, I jumped at the chance. I "met" Christine a couple of years ago in the strange and beautiful blogging world to which we both belong, and we connected right away. Her writing about faith, love, family and presence is beautiful and when she reached across the vast ether of this digital world and took my proverbial hand, telling me that it was ok to share, and that my stories were safe with her, we became more than just blogger friends. We became actual friends.

Knowing her, and knowing her writing, I knew that her book was going to be special.

I wasn't disappointed.

Open Boxes is a book of Christine's essays focused on the idea that by opening our eyes to the sacred in our everyday lives, our lives become richer, more connected, and just a little holier than they were before. She writes that by focusing on the small things - words from a stranger, a first snow, laughing until you cry - we can connect with all the different parts of the life we are living and we can paint our world with a more brightly colored brush.

Christine is honest and brave in her writing. She tells stories of love, of parenting, and of the everyday. She tells stories of joy and stories that cast a spotlight on the hardest parts of life - the parts that a lot of us only whisper about under the covers in those quiet and secret moments before sleep. The result of this is the sense that she understands deeply what it means to live - really live - in her days, and how to connect deeply with all the parts of herself and of her world, the good, the bad and all the parts in between. Her optimism is contagious and her words are inspiring.

It is evident on every page that Christine has found the grace in her moments. That she has her eyes wide open to the absolute miracle it is to wake up in the morning every day and to be alive.

And because her eyes are wide open, she makes it easier for us to open our eyes as well.

In her essay An Uphill Battle, Christie writes, "It can be easy to get consumed with the uphill battle, putting our heads down and soldiering on, but sometimes we need to stop and just enjoy the view. Sometimes we need to pause, if only for a moment to catch our breath and marvel at where we've come from, and consider where we are called to go."

The essay comes early in the book, but as I read on, I kept coming back to this passage, to these words which, more than any others, sum up the message of the book. We are all going to have times in our lives that are easy and times that are tough and times where we feel like we are just trying to make it through the day. But the beauty is in noticing all of these moments - the good and bad, small and large - because paying attention to all of this allows us to hold on to the good ones and learn from the tricky ones because for better or worse, these moments make up our lives and shape the people who we become. And it is in this paying attention where we find those wells of hope, faith and resilience that help us to make it through.

Christine's essays are gripping and her voice is gorgeous, making it tempting to gobble up this book in one big bite. But if I could make one suggestion, it would be to read slowly. To settle in and to soak up every word. Because there are great lessons to be learned in these pages, and Christine is a willing and wonderful teacher.

Thank you so much, Christine, for the privilege of reading and reviewing this book. It was an absolute pleasure and I loved every word.

The Friends We Have Loved and Lost

I remember writing the story of my own friendship break-up. 

It was the end of last summer, and I had just come home from a Jersey Shore vacation with my family. It was on that vacation, and in the two days following, that I realized that my friendship, one I had loved and cherished and depended on since the first week of my freshman year of college, was no more. Even though the evidence of its demise had been piling up for some time, the final realization that what we had was no longer reached up and slapped me on the face so hard that for the first time, I understood what whiplash must feel like.

So I did the thing I do when I'm not sure what else to do. I went to my computer, opened a new post on my blog, and I wrote. As I wrote I discovered wells of grief hidden inside of me that I hadn't been entirely aware of, and I typed words on a keyboard wet with tears I barely realized were falling. And when I was finished, I pressed publish, too drained even to proof-read what I had written. 

Lots of people read that piece. So many, in fact, that it became the second most popular piece I have ever published on my blog. Despite all of that, it would be months before I could go back to read my own words.

So I understand. I understand how much energy it takes, and how painful it is to re-visit the stories of the friends that we loved and lost. To rip open our hearts and to write words about the relationships that once occupied a central place in our lives, but that are no longer.

And that is what makes the anthology My Other Ex: Women's True Stories of Leaving and Losing Friends so remarkable. Edited by Jessica Smock and Stephanie Sprenger, founders of The HerStories Project and editors of The HerStories Project: Women Explore the Joy, Pain and Power of Female Friendship, the book explores the loss of female friendship. 

Thirty-five women have bared their souls to tell their stories of breaking up with a friend that they had once assumed would be in their lives forever, and although each story is different, similar strains run through them all.

The book makes us understand that female friendship is complex and mysterious, and that the wounds left over from the loss of a female friend are long-lasting, painful and deep. Many of the women told stories from long ago, but it is still fresh pain that seeps through their words, as if the friendship had just ended days before. We learn from these stories that female friendship has the power to give us joy, closeness and connection, but also to cause a pain and loss that is unparalleled in the human experience. 

In her incredible essay Going Without Sugar, Cheryl Suchors writes, "I wasn't divorcing, but we have no language for the collapse of a friendship. No civil or legal understanding exists to encircle, protect or declare its existence. No public ceremonies seal the relationship or shore it up when rocks pierce the hull and we have to swim for shore, the sound of wreckage and cold seawater filling our ears."

I kept going back to these words over and over again, unable to get them out of my head. These sentences sum up more than anything the message of the book; that a friendship between women is so much like a romantic relationship - soul deep, involving powerful love, a shared history and a connection that seems unbreakable. But there exists no framework around which we end a friendship; no formal vocabulary to use to declare that someone once so central to our lives no longer occupies the space that only they could fill. So the friendship ends and we feel lonely and adrift and filled with a pain that may dull over time but that never truly goes away.

Maybe the friendships that we lose weren't ever meant to last forever. Some of the essays in the book explore the idea that certain people were meant only for certain seasons of our lives, and some friendships we lose may even come back to us one day, but that doesn't make their loss any easier to navigate. It doesn't make us question ourselves any less, or keep us from wondering if there was anything that we could have done to hold the friendship together, even if we know there was nothing.

But what we can do, and what these brave and talented women have done, is to share our stories. To tell our tales of friendship, love and loss, so that no one has to walk the path of lost friendship alone. 

When you read this book you will see yourself in these pages. I did. Knowing that others have weathered the loss of a cherished friend as I have hasn't taken away all the pain and confusion of my loss, but it has reminded me that I am not the only one who felt the particular brand of sorrow that swims in the wake of a friendship lost, whether you are being left or you are the one doing the leaving.

The wisdom of these thirty-five women and the power of their stories will stick with you long after you have closed the book, and will remind you that even though circumstances may differ, in the crucible that is friendship loss, you are never, ever alone.

Thank you so much, Jessica and Stephanie, for the privilege of reading this book and reviewing it here. I loved every single word.

Good Books

"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you: the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was. 

                                                                -Ernest Hemingway 

2013: A Year Of Finding Happiness and Home. And Reading Books.

January 1, 2013. I was laying on the couch under a blanket, trying to warm up after a freezing cold New Year's Day run and reading over what I had posted the day before as my year end review. Looking over all the words, all the links to the posts filled with the words that told the story of my year, made me proud, and a touch overwhelmed. And, when I got to the sections for November and December, they made me a little sad.

Because even though the construction was done and the house was finally finished, sitting on that couch on New Year's Day, I still felt profoundly unsettled after our move to the suburbs. Adrift in a sea of change and uncertainty, not sure when I would again find myself on dry land. And I looked forward to a new year, relishing the idea that maybe, just maybe, I would begin to find some comfort and peace. That maybe it would finally start to feel like home. Like my life, instead of a life that I was viewing from the outside, wishing it could be different.

If 2012 - the second half at least - was a story of saying goodbye, of transition and nostalgia tinged with sadness, 2013 was the story of finding my place. Of building a new life in a new neighborhood. Of joining a community. Of meeting new people who became new friends. Of finding a running path I loved as much as I love Central Park. Of getting to happy. Of discovering that slowly, and without my even realizing it, what was once new becomes normal. 

2013 was the story of finding home.

And 2013 was the story of reading books. 

Because when I feel unmoored, books are where I turn. When I lose myself in the words of my favorite authors, all is right with the world. So when we moved into our new house, the very first thing I did, even while my kitchen was still a black hole and everything was covered with a layer of construction dust, was set up my bookshelves and start reading.

My Bookshelves: Romance Novel Central

And Everything Else

And when I had torn through 3 books in our very first week, I decided it might be fun to keep track of everything I read for an entire year, and to write about it. So I created a new bookshelf in my Goodreads account, and started filling it. 

And when I checked it this morning, my grand total was 132 books in 2013, including 72 by Nora Roberts, 13 by her alter-ego J.D. Robb, 3 Hunger Games, 3 Divergent, 2 by John Grisham, 2 by Dan Brown, 13 by Brad Thor and 13 by the late and great Vince Flynn. The other ten are a mixed bag that include Maine and Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan, Early Decision by Lacy Crawford, The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer, The Husband's Secret by Liane Moriarty and a few from my law firm's book club that I hated but read anyway to avoid feeling stupid in the bi-monthly meetings.

It was a year of romance and mystery, of brand new and very old. Of re-reading my favorites, and giving the unfamiliar a chance. Of sinking contentedly into my favorite characters and the stories that I love, and relishing happy endings. It was a year of embracing the familiar while surrounded by the unfamiliar, and finding out that I am still me, no matter where I land.

365 days and 132 books later, I am happy, and I am home.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. It is an honor and a pleasure to write, and to be read.

Wishing you all and your families lots of love, happiness and success in 2014.

YA? Why Not?

Frequent readers of this blog may know that I have a bit of an obsessive personality. If I find a snack I like, I eat it constantly. If I find an author that pleases me, I read absolutely every single book that he or she has written and then go back to the beginning and read them again. I'm a long distance runner, which is synonymous with obsessive.

Sometimes these obsessions are short-lived, like that incident with the Stop and Shop brand white cheddar rice cakes that I can no longer even look at without getting vaguely nauseous. Sometimes they withstand the test of time, like my love of all things romance novel since the minute I opened my first one fifteen years ago, and my burning desire to own hard copies of every single book that Nora Roberts has ever written. And sometimes they come and go, depending on my general mood.

My latest obsession - the YA book - has ebbed and flowed since I read my first Harry Potter book back in high school. It started off innocently. My little sister was reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and since I had heard some buzz, I picked it up too. I was sucked in right away, read all the rest of them that were out at the time, and spend the next five years anticipating the rest of the series. I pre-ordered each new book and the day that it arrived I shut everything else out and read it, cover-to-cover. The wait in between books was painfully long, but worth it for the glory that was Harry. Once I read the final word of the final book, I went back to my regularly scheduled reading habits.

It wasn't until two years ago that my love of YA was rekindled. It was two Aprils ago. David and I were in Israel for 10 days, and one night we decided to go to the movies at a mall in Tel Aviv. I had heard good things about The Hunger Games, so we went to see it. It was against my better judgment since I really like to read the books first before I see the movies, but were there, and so was it, so see it we did. And it was amazing. Every single scene.

When I got back to America the very first thing I did was buy the first Hunger Games book in the airport gift shop. I was thrilled to see that the other two books in the trilogy were out also, and over the next three days I tore through them all, and was left with a vague book hangover at the end, desperately wanting more of the story even though there was none to be had.

I flirted with some more YA over the next two years. I tried some Twilight but couldn't make it through the first one, and I sobbed my way through The Fault in Our Stars, but neither rekindled my original YA passion.

I thought that this particular obsession of mine had finally run its course. Until two weeks ago, that is.

I was sitting in a darkened theater on a Thursday night to see the second Hunger Games movie. The previews began, and the first one was for the movie version of the first book in the Divergent trilogy. I had heard about these books, but hadn't read them yet. I decided that there was no time like the present.

I ordered them all from Amazon, and dug in the second they showed up at my house. Three days later, with blurry eyes and only a vague idea of what day it actually was, I closed the third book, vaguely dissatisfied with the ending but still totally enthralled and again, wanting more. Without any new YA books within reach, I did the only thing I could think of to do. I grabbed the first Hunger Games book off my shelf, and started the series all over again.

Books Books Books Books Books

I love books. Romance novels particularly, but really anything with a happy ending will do. I have loved to read since before I knew how to read, and books remain - and will likely always be - one of the greatest pleasures of my life.

I read during my commute to work, my commute home, and often times while walking to and from the train station. My favorite thing to do when I get home from work on Friday afternoon is to curl up with a blanket on the couch in my reading room with my current book of choice, and then head straight back there when I wake up on Saturday morning. I often feel like losing myself in a book can fix whatever problem ails me. Books have been my constant companions during every part of my life, good and bad, and seeing them all lined up on my shelves fills me with happiness and love.

So, when I saw this little self-interview about books and reading on Lindsey Mead's blog a couple of months ago, I knew I had to post it here too.

So, here, in 28 questions, is my life in books. Heavy on romance novels, light on sadness, and always, always with a happy ending.

Author You’ve Read the Most Books From

Nora Roberts, without a doubt

Best Sequel Ever: 

Books two, three and four in Nora Roberts' Bride's Quartet. Especially books three and four.

Honorable Mention - Night Fall, by Nelson DeMille

Second Honorable Mention - Books 2-7 of the Harry Potter series. Can't just pick one.

Currently Reading: 

Allegiant, the third book in Veronica Roth's Divergent trilogy

Drink of Choice While Reading: 

Lemonade in the summer, hot chocolate in the winter, always coffee on Saturday mornings.

E-Reader or Physical Book?

Physical book, always and forever

Fictional Character You Probably Would Have Actually Dated In High School: 

Ron Weasley from Harry Potter.

Glad You Gave This Book A Chance: 

Plum Island, by Nelson DeMille. My parents were both after me to give this one a try for a long time, but for some reason, I resisted. I'm glad I finally gave in and read it - and the other five in the series - because John Corey is now one of my favorite literature heroes of all time.

Honorable Mention - The Fault In Our Stars, by John Green. The premise - kids with cancer - offended my "only happy endings" sensibilities, but really, the book is a beautiful testament to life, love, and the people who join us on our journey. It's sad, yes, but ultimately uplifting. 

Hidden Gem Book: 

Sisterhood Everlasting, by Ann Brashares, the fifth book in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. It's ten years later, the girls are about to turn 30, and a reunion is on the horizon. It's a little sad, but the ending is a whole lot of happy. I loved the first four books in the Traveling Pants series, so when this one came out I cleared my schedule, sat down, and read it from start to finish in one day. I wasn't disappointed.

Important Moment in your Reading Life: 

The day I read my first Nora Roberts book. I was 16 and in my junior year of high school, the book was The Stanislaski Sisters, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Just Finished: 

Divergent and Insurgent, books one and two in the Divergent trilogy.

Kinds of Books You Won’t Read: 

Obviously, I love romance novels, but I absolutely will not crack any book by Nicholas Sparks. I require my romances with a side of happy, and his romances come with a heaping dose of the death, disease and peril, which is absolutely unacceptable to me. For more on my utter hatred for this author and my love of a happy ending, read this.

Longest Book You’ve Read: 

I don't know for sure, but if you count all three volumes of Dante's Divine Comedy as a single book, I think it would probably be that. And I've read the whole thing twice. And loved it. Both times.

It could also be the Walter Isaacson biography of Steve Jobs. It was long, but I devoured every single word of it during a non-fiction bender I went on a couple of years ago.

Major Book Hangover Because Of: 

Vince Flynn's Mitch Rapp series. I love post-9/11 CIA spy novels almost as much as I love romance novels. I started reading the Mitch Rapp series years ago and then stopped for awhile. Recently, I started again from the beginning and read all 14 books straight through in about a month. By the end, I was practically cross-eyed.

The cliffhanger ending of the 14th book was brilliant but ultimately sad. Vince Flynn passed away this past June at the incredibly young age of 47 after a long battle with prostate cancer, so we will never know what became of his Mitch Rapp.

Number of Bookcases You Own: 

I have floor to ceiling built-in bookshelves along 2 walls in my living room and 2 walls of my sun room. They were what sold me on my house when we first looked at it. My books cover one of the walls, but will soon start creeping over onto the others.

One Book You Have Read Multiple Times: 

Birthright, by Nora Roberts. I'd be hard pressed to say what my absolute favorite Nora Roberts book is, but this one would definitely be in the running.

Preferred Place To Read: 

My reading room. My most favorite place in my house.

Quote That Inspires You/Gives You All the Feels From a Book You’ve Read: 

"Whatever setbacks he had faced in his life, he said, however daunting or dispiriting the unfolding of events, he always knew he would make it through, as long as when he woke in the morning he was looking forward to his first cup of coffee...Uncompromising purpose and the search for eternal truth have an unquestionable sex appeal for the young and high-minded; but when a person loses the ability to take pleasure in the mundane...she has probably put herself in unnecessary danger...One must be prepared to fight for one's simple pleasures and to defend them against elegance and erudition and all manner of glamorous enticements. In retrospect, my cup of coffee has been the works of Charles Dickens...I've come to realize that however blue my circumstances, if after finished a chapter of a Dickens novel I feel a miss-my-stop-on-the-train sort of compulsion to read on, then everything is probably going to be just fine"
-Amor Towles
 Rules of Civility

Reading Regret: 

That it took me so long to jump on the YA bandwagon. Hunger Games and Divergent? I could have started loving you years ago. Better late than never, I say.

Series You Started And Need To Finish (all books are out in series): 

I may have a little bit of a one track mind, but I'm racing through the third book in the Divergent trilogy. I'm torn because I absolutely can't wait to see how it ends, but also kind of want it to last forever and ever.

Three of your All-Time Favorite Books: 

Just As Long As We're Together, Judy Blume (and the sequel, Here's To You Rachel Robinson)
This Heart of Mine, Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Birthright, Nora Roberts

Unapologetic Fangirl For: 

Anything by Judy Blume. From her incredible Just As Long As We're Together, all the way to the slightly disturbing but positively addicting Summer Sisters, I love them all. 

Very Excited For This Release More Than All The Others: 

Nora Roberts' newest mystery, out this spring

Worst Bookish Habit: 

Reading as I walk from Grand Central Station to my office on 52nd Street and 7th Avenue. I know. But sometimes my train pulls into the station while I'm in the middle of a chapter.

X Marks The Spot: Start at the top left of your shelf and pick the 27th book: 

I'm not exactly sure because I'm not at home right now, but I know for a fact it's a romance.

Your latest book purchase:

Meg Wolitzer's The Interestings. I've heard fun things about this one, and I can't wait to get it in the mail.

ZZZ-snatcher book (last book that kept you up WAY late):

I don't generally read before bed for this exact reason. Any book I start will keep me up late, so right before bed is usually TV time. But the last book that kept me up WAY later than would ever be normal or acceptable for a school night was Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. I was equally disturbed and fascinated by it, and even though I wasn't at all sure I liked it, I couldn't put it down. I was about one-third of the way through at 10:00 one night last summer when I settled into bed with it.

Awards, Awards, Awards

As most of you know, I am in the middle of a blogging challenge called NaBloPoMo, or, National Blog Posting month, where I blog every day of the month of November, or for thirty days straight. It's a little tricky, but also a lot of fun.

One of the best parts has been reading posts from bloggers I wasn't entirely familiar with before this month began. I have Yeah Write and its massive NaBloPoMo grid to thank for that.

Recently, I have been the recipient of two awards from bloggers I have met recently. I got the Liebster Award from the lovely Michelle DeLorge at Scattered Wrecks, and I got the Sunshine Award from the incomparable Jake at Jake vs. The City.

The rules for the awards are similar. I write eleven random facts about myself, answer eleven questions posed to me by the giver of the award, and bestow these awards on some other bloggers of my choice. As I have been the recipient of The Liebster before, I have already divulged some little known facts about myself here, but who couldn't use a few more?

Here they are, in no random order:

1. I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. I sleep pretty well, but I wake up at least once in the middle of the night, every single night.
   
2. You all know I love romance novels, but did you know that I love post-9/11 spy novels too?
   
3. And YA novels about dystopian futures? I just finished the first book in the Divergent trilogy, and am re-reading The Hunger Games trilogy too.
   
4. I saw all 8 Harry Potter movies at midnight on the night they came out.
   
5. And also both Sex and the City movies.
   
6. I keep a handwritten red notebook filled with recipes. Not everything should be done online.
   
7. I love to cook but I rarely use cookbooks, relying instead on the aforementioned red notebook.
   
8. This year is the very first Thanksgiving in my entire life that I am not going to be with my parents. I'll be at my in-law's house for an epic Thanksgivukah (Thanksgiving + Chanukah) celebration, in honor of the last time Thanksgiving and Chanukah will overlap for more than 70,000 years.
   
9. I get a weekly manicure. It's one of my biggest indulgences, but I never feel completely put together without one.
   
10. In my house, when it snows we get to have special snow day treats. Think: doughnuts, cookies, grilled cheese, hot cocoa. It's a tradition held over from when my sisters and I were little, and I want to maintain it forever.
    
11. Sometimes I imagine what life would be like if I had a brother, and I can't ever get that picture in my head. sisters are the best.

And here are my answers to Michelle's questions. She asked us to pick our favorite movies in 11 different genres:

1. Drama - A League of Their Own
2. Comedy - It's a tie...Crazy, Stupid, Love and Pitch Perfect
3. Romantic Comedy - You've Got Mail
4. Romantic Drama - The American President
5. Epic - Apollo 13
6. Animated - Toy Story, the original
7. Biopic - The Social Network. Weird, I know, but I can't help but watch it every time it's on.
8. Historical - Does Pearl Harbor count? Because I really, really love that movie. 
9. Sci-Fi - Is Harry Potter sci-fi? Because, magic. I say it does.
10. Foreign - I just can't with foreign films. This might make me uncultured. I'm not so sure I care.
11. Mystery - The Life of David Gale

And here are my answers to Jake's:

1. If you were an animal, what would it be? - A leopard, because I like the spots
   
2. What is your favorite book and why? - This one is hard, because I have so many favorites, depending on the genre and what I'm in the mood for. But I think my all time, never goes out of style favorite is Just As Long As We're Together, by Judy Blume
   
3. If you could have 1 superhero power, what would it be? - To fly
   
4. What's your favorite color? - Purple
   
5. What strange thing do you do when you get ready in the morning? - Follow a routine that never, ever varies. If it does, I imagine all kinds of bad things that will befall me during the day.
   
6. What's your favorite movie? - I have lots of favorites, see above. But my all time most favorite is definitely The American President.
   
7. If you could go one place in the world, where would it be? - Italy
   
8. Harry, Ron, or Hermione? - Hermione. Smart, cool, and a really good friend
   
9. iPhone or Droid? - Droid all the way
   
10. Staying in and watching a movie, or going out to a movie theatre? - Staying in, I'm a homebody.
    
11. Why did you start blogging? - Mostly because I had a lot to say, and I was tired of keeping it all in.

Thank you so much Michelle and Jake...Stay tuned for my nominees!

The Years Go By And What I Read

It was always books for me.

I was five when I taught myself how to read.

The book was called The Teeny Tiny Woman, and I spent hours sitting on my bed, little legs dangling, while I sounded out the words. I don't remember exactly what came before I opened that book, or what came right after, but I remember vividly thinking "I can read."

And read I did.

I was seven when my mom bought me my very first Baby-Sitters Club book. I read it in one day and made her take me straight back to the bookstore to buy more. And for the next few years, wherever I was, there was always a Baby-Sitters Club book close by.

I read The Truth About Stacey in the coatroom at school. I read The Ghost at Dawn's House sitting on a bench on the playground while everyone else played dodge-ball. I read Super Special #5: California Girls on a family vacation to the Jersey Shore. I read Kristy and the Snobs at my best friend's 10th birthday sleepover party. I read Super Special #2: Baby Sitters' Summer Vacation during my third summer at sleep-away camp, and I read Super Special 11: The Baby Sitters Remember during the spring I was getting ready for my bat mitzvah.

I was twelve when I entered the wonderful world of Judy Blume. I lived in Miami Beach with Sally J. Freedman, I got my period for the first time and figured out that I could raise one eyebrow with Margaret, I was best friends with Stephanie and Rachel, and I spent some summers with Vic and Caitlin long before I was probably old enough to be a part of their story.

While I was reading my way through Judy Blume, I took a spin through the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys Supermysteries, but was always more interested in Fred and Nancy's romance than whatever mystery the foursome was out to solve.

During the beginning of high school I read some Jane Austen, had an ephemeral obsession with the Bronte sisters, and started the Harry Potter books as a testament to my eclectic tastes.

I was sixteen when I read my first romance novel. I picked up a Nora Roberts book that my mom had left on the coffee table, read the entire thing in a single sitting, scoured her bookshelves for more, and began a love affair that has lasted for more than a decade. These are the books that bind me to the women in my family. They are the stories that comforted me on my first night of college, offered me an escape from a very sad summer, gave me sanity when I felt like everything was in chaos, and made my brand new house feel like home.

The story of my life is in the pages of the books that live on the shelves in the corner of my living room. The books that have been my loyal friends and constant companions as I have grown and changed and become who I am. And I may not know exactly what the future has in store for me, and where I will go from here. But I do know one thing for sure.

There will be a book in my hand as I figure it out.

Linking up with the Yeah Write Challenge Grid and
Yeah Write's 31 Days to Build a Better Blog.

When in Doubt, Choose Romance on Monday Morning

When given a choice between a memoir and a romance novel for your train ride to work, always choose the romance novel.

Lesson learned.

The memoir seemed like a really good idea when I ordered it on Amazon a couple weeks ago. Although I don't often read non-fiction, this was the memoir of a blogger whose words I read from time to time, and I know from her blog that she has a really compelling story. I know that her story is heartbreaking. Immensely so. But while it is sad, I have read her blog, so I also know that she came out on the other side of it a thoughtful, compassionate woman and a truly gifted writer.

I was really, really interested in reading her book, so I decided to break my longstanding rule to never read anything that isn't happy and uplifting.

It came in the mail last Thursday, and I was already in the middle of some other books that I carried over into the weekend, so I didn't get a chance to start it. By last night, I had finished the other books, and this morning I scanned my "to-read" bookshelf, searching for the stories I would read this week. My eyes landed on the memoir, and on a book of Nora Roberts short stories, sitting right next to each other. Unable to make up my mind, I grabbed both and headed out the door.

As soon as I got to the train platform I opened my bag and grabbed the memoir even thought somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain a voice was shouting, "ROMANCE NOVEL."

As I knew it would be, the memoir was written in gorgeous prose, despite the less than uplifting subject matter. Her words and her story transfixed me, and before I knew it I was turning pages like a woman possessed, eager to get to the next chapter, the next scene, her next journey.

When the conductor pulled on the brakes as we arrived at Grand Central, I was startled out of my trance, surprised that we were already in the city. I had read nearly sixty pages without ever looking up.

I waited in my seat until the train was mostly empty, then gathered my things and slowly made my way off the platform, dogged by a vague melancholy that is extremely unlike me and trying to ignore the now-bitchy voice in my head saying "I told you so."

Monday mornings - really any morning - and heavy, mostly sad memoirs are like Diet Coke and Mentos in my world. Put them together and you are bound to end up with a hostile and unsettling reaction. Only instead of lasting only a second or two, I feel it all day long.

I knew better. I have no one to blame but myself.

If I'm going to read a book that is certain to be sad - and I rarely ever do - I need to read it sitting outside in the sunshine. I need to read it slowly, in small doses. I certainly need to look up from time to time to pull myself out of the sad. Devouring almost half the book on Monday morning while sitting on a train hurtling through dark tunnels on the way to work is a bad idea. Even a book as beautifully written as this one.

I'll finish the memoir at some point, but I learned my lesson this morning. No more heavy reading on the train.

This afternoon, it's the romance for me.

Happy Blogaversary to Me!

Monday. In case you missed it, over the weekend there was a huge snowstorm in the Northeast. We were buried under about two feet in my neighborhood on Friday night, and spend much of the rest of the weekend digging out. I love a good snowstorm, and this one was particularly epic. But more about that - with pictures - later in the week.

Because today, I have some rather important business to attend to. Yesterday, was a pretty important day. One I feel compelled to mention, and to write about. On February 10, 2012 - one year and one day ago - I started this blog on a whim. It was a dreary Friday afternoon, and I wasn't busy. I had been toying with the idea of writing seriously for some time, and that rainy Friday seemed as good a time as any. So in the space of an hour, I went from regular person, to blogger.

At first, I didn't have too many readers. My family, of course, but that was about it. But still, I wrote. And the more I wrote, the more I needed to write. The words just poured out of my head, and there always seemed to be more. And I read. I discovered other blogs I liked, and bloggers I respected, and I haunted their sites daily. And reading made me a better writer.

And then, about six months into this blogging gig something happened. This past August I linked up a piece I had written with the Yeah Write weekly challenge, and it was there that I discovered my community. And through them, I truly found my voice. I met other smart and talented writers, and, although we have never met in person, they became my friends. All online, we have learned about each others families, offered a hand and a shoulder in times of challenge, supported each other through Hurricane Sandy (because, amazingly, many of these lovely ladies live mere minutes from me), shared funny blizzard stories, and became a kind of family. And for them, I am incredibly grateful.

So, one year later, here I am. Writing, growing, learning, and changing. Just the way it should be. Over the weekend, I was going through my old posts trying to find a way to sum up the past 365 - now 366 - days. And rather than write more words about what this space means to me, I thought I would do a quick run down of my favorite post or two from each of the past twelve months.

Thanks for sticking with me for a whole year. Looking forward to year two.

February 2012

During my first month, I wrote about coming from a family of women who love books, and I wrote about how I can live anywhere as long as I have my romance novels in tow.

March

I was training for my first half-marathon when I started this blog, and one morning in March I had a completely transcendental run, followed almost immediately by an absolutely disastrous run.

April

In April, I took a trip to Israel, and discovered that Israeli women like romance novels too, and I explained my number one rule when I choose the books I read.

May

I recapped my first half-marathon in May, and I read the book Quiet, by Susan Cane, and wrote about how it completely changed my life.

June

In June, I finally read Fifty Shades of Grey, and to my utter astonishment, I really didn't like it.

July

This month I celebrated David's birthday, and the triumphant return of the Summer Olympics.

August

I wrote my very first post for Yeah Write about some very special shoes, and got a little political on the eve of the Republican National Convention.

September

In September, I wrote my very first fiction, and started thinking about our move away from Manhattan that would take place in a few short months.

October

In October, an article CNN published about how women vote based on their monthly cycles infuriated me, and I said goodbye to my favorite place on earth with a post that still makes me tear up every time I read it.

November

I embarked on a 30 day blogging challenge in November, and wrote about my first date with David, in two parts.

December

My mind was on Newtown and Sandy Hook Elementary School in December, and I wrote about gun control, and the comfort of Jewish tradition.

January

And this past month, I celebrated my thirtieth birthday, and remembered a trip I took to crazy-town just a few years ago.

February 2013

Just last week, I wrote about my new morning routine that I love, and tried my hand at a little more fiction.

You Never Forget Your First Time

They say you never forget your first time.

I haven't.

I was seventeen.

It was a damp and grey Sunday. I was home alone. Rain was spattering on the windows as I cast about for something to do.

I turned on the TV, and then turned it off. There was nothing to watch. I opened a mystery I had started the day before, but it wouldn't hold my interest. I set it aside.

I lay back on the couch, wondering at the sluggish passage of time on quiet, rainy days.

And then it happened.

It started as an idle curiosity. Something I had heard so much about, but never experienced for myself. Today seemed as good a day as any to try something new.

Something mysterious.

I began slowly. Tentatively. Shyly almost.

But the deeper in I sank, the faster the waves of pleasure rolled. And I wondered how I had missed out on something so delicious for so long.

I thought for a minute how I should feel ashamed in some way. But I didn't.

I felt strong. I felt alive.

I lost track of time. The rain stopped. The sky darkened. But I stayed there, absorbing the wonder of this virgin outing.

Already knowing with certainty that I would return soon. And often.

As the finale drew near, I unconsciously picked up the pace. Straining for a resolution. Wishing it would never end.

I was a woman possessed.

The garage door opened. The phone rang. And rang again. I heard it all dimly, as if I was at the bottom of a pool and the sounds were coming from dry land. And I ignored it all.

I stayed on the couch.

Remained fixed in place.

Unable to move;

until the final, satisfying conclusion.

Exhausted, exhilarated, already ready to try again.

No, I'll never forget the very first time -

I read a romance novel.

This post is in honor of yesterday's 200th anniversary of the publication of Pride and Prejudice, the book that set the stage for my beloved romance novels of modern day. 

Lady Jane, generations of women thank you.

For a different version of my first brush with romance novels, check out the very first post I ever wrote on this blog.

An Ode to TV

63 inches of awesome

On this blog, I have used thousands of words in homage to my love of reading, romance novels, and writing. My bookshelves are stacked with hundreds of romance novels, stacks of mysteries, and even the occasional non-fiction for when the mood strikes. I spend many happy hours sitting on the couch in my new family room reading page after page. And I spend many happy (and often frustrating) hours writing words on this blog. And I love all of those. Words have been an important part of me for as long as I can remember and to be able to read them and write them is a privilege for which I am incredibly grateful.

But I am a woman of many interests.

So it is not just reading and writing that consume my extra-curricular hours. There is something else near and dear to me that I don't spend nearly as much time talking about on the pages of this blog. My TV watching habits. And I use the word habit lightly, because what it really is, is a full-blown obsession matched only by my zeal to collect all the books Nora Roberts has ever penned.

I have always loved TV, but I can pinpoint exactly when TV watching stopped being an enjoyable event and started to become a passion complete with charts scheduling my shows, anxiety about missing episodes, and a full slate of programming year round.

It was 2005. The fall. College graduation was behind me, and I was about a month into my first year of law school with all the stress, sleepless nights and competition that entailed. I was living in my law school's dorm in the East Village and the air practically vibrated with intensity and barely concealed nerves. Needless to say, I only lasted a year in the dorm before I moved on to the wonder of the Upper West Side. But it was in that dorm room filled with big, scary books that I began escaping into TV.

For years and years I escaped through books. And during my first year in law school I still did, and regularly. But with all the tension that law school wrought, I needed something more. And I found that something more in a 13 inch television that sat on top of my miniature dresser in an equally miniature bedroom.

It started off innocently, as obsessions often do. I figured law school was no excuse not to keep up with the shows that I already watched, so I made sure that I was always home in time for my four or five regulars. And then one night when I couldn't settle down I discovered back-to-back re-runs of The Nanny, which quickly became appointment television for me. Then I decided to re-watch all the seasons of The West Wing in preparation for the final season that had just begun. And it was fall, so I figured I would surf around and try to pick up some new shows too. Some new shows became approximately eight new shows.

Before long I had far too much TV on my schedule to watch it when it was actually on, so I called Time Warner Cable, and three days later a delightful technician arrived to install my very first DVR box so I could start recording my TV to watch whenever I wanted. And after I started watching with a DVR I noticed a funny thing happen. My grades started to rise in proportion to the amount of TV I was watching, but not the way you think. The more TV I watched, the higher my grades were. I was on to something for sure. So I continued to study and I continued to watch, and I got my very first A+, and I was thrilled with myself.

When I was studying for finals at the end of my second year (and also catching up on the entire First Season of Brothers & Sisters, having just discovered it that spring), two things happened simultaneously to kick my TV habit up a couple of notches. The first was that I discovered TV blogs. Now, not only could I watch my favorite shows, but I could read about them too. I immersed myself in spoilers, and recaps, and news about renewals, cancellations, and new shows on the horizon.

And the second was that I met David, and in him I found my TV equal. I picked up some of his shows, he picked up some of mine, and we discovered some new ones together. In the early stages of our relationship, where most couples would go out, we often stayed in. With take-out, a couch, his giant TV, and each other we had exactly everything we needed. And by the time we got married and moved in together we were watching more than thirty shows between us. There was no way that all this TV could fit on a single DVR, and we decided that when it came to our shows we were absolutely above compromise, so our tiny Manhattan apartment boasted two plasma televisions, each complete with their own DVR. His and hers, and it suited us just fine. We own a house now, but our TV watching habits haven't changed at all. Each and every night you can still find us in front of our shows, sometimes together and sometimes apart, content down to the tips of our toes.  I sometimes wonder how it would have worked had I met someone who didn't share my passion for TV. I think the answer is, it just wouldn't have.

Sometimes people ask me how I have time for it all. A full time job, a blog, running, a serious romance novel habit and a TV obsession. I say, you make time for what's important. I guess I could be spending my time learning more law, or volunteering, or curing cancer or something like that, but Grey's Anatomy and Scandal come back from winter hiatus tonight and I love me some Shonda Rhimes, so I'm going to be pretty busy.

The Liebster

One of the most fun parts about starting this blog last February has been the other bloggers that I have had the opportunity to meet. There is an entire community of writers sharing bits and pieces of themselves online, and even though I have not met any of them in person, I feel like they are friends. They are smart, thoughtful and savvy women and men, and I love that they have let me be a part of their cyber universe.

Which is why I was thrilled and incredibly honored when Emma gave me the Liebster Award. And what, you might ask, is a Liebster Award? Kind of like a chain letter, it is an award given to a new-ish, up and coming blogger by another blogger, who in turn got in from someone else. Get it?  Just think of those chain letters you used to get as a kid. Although, I almost always broke the chain, and never did receive the promised 10 letters from around the world.

The origins of the award are a little murky, but it has been making its way around the blogosphere for some time now, and seems like fun.

The rules of the game are simple:

1. The recipient of the award posts 11 facts about themselves
2. The recipient then answers 11 questions posed by the giver of the award
3. The recipient nominates other bloggers for the award, links to them, and posts 11 questions for those bloggers to answer

Ok, so maybe it's not quite so simple, but it is pretty fun, and I am psyched to do it. So, here we go:

11 Facts About Me

1. I was speaking in complete sentences when I was just over a year old. I was like some kind of mutant child. My mom says strangers used to come up to the stroller and speak to me in baby voices, and I used to answer them, talking like I was 12 years old. It totally freaked them out.
2. If I hear a song once, I can remember all of the words for the rest of my life.
3. I love romance novels more than anything in the world, and I own every single book that Nora Roberts has ever written.
4. I have a notebook filled with ideas about a series of romance novels that I plan to write, and I have already started on the first one.
5. My favorite food is french fries. I need to eat them at least once a week or I get cranky. I sometimes think that I could eat nothing but french fries for every meal until the day I die and I would be completely content.
6. I love country music.
7. I didn't understand a single part of any of the following movies: Inception, Minority Report, and The Matrix 
8. I use Google as a spell checker. I am the worst speller in the world. Ironic considering, you know, this blog.
9. I can recite all the dialogue from the movie Speed.
10. I watch, regularly (as in, don't miss a single episode of) twenty-one television shows a week. That doesn't include Football, Gilmore Girls re-runs, The Daily Show or The Colbert Report. I watch all of those too.
11. I won't read a book that doesn't have a happy ending.

Answers to Emma's Questions For Me

1. What is your favorite tree and why? - The huge oak tree that sat right outside our house in Pittsburgh where I grew up that was inhabited by a family of squirrels that fascinated my dad. I'm pretty sure that we have pictures somewhere of that squirrel family.
2. Are you still in touch with anyone from elementary school? How about high school? - Neither, actually. 
3. If you could live anywhere in the world with no financial or language concerns, where would it be? - I don't really have aspirations for world travel, I'm pretty much a homebody, so I would probably choose to live right where I am. Or in Pittsburgh so I could be closer to my parents. Speaking of which...
4. Do you like your parents? - I know that for a lot of people this is a complex question. Not so for me. Yes, I like my parents. I also admire them, and am incredibly grateful to them for giving me strength, character, resilience, and a sense of humor, for teaching me to live with purpose, and for encouraging my sisters and me to blaze our own trails. Basically, if we were any closer, we would be one person.
5. What is a favorite book and/or what are you reading now? - My favorite book is Birthright, by Nora Roberts (see: my aforementioned love of romance novels). I have read it at least 100 times. Right now I am reading The Panther, by Nelson DeMille. If you have never read any of his books featuring retired NYPD cop John Corey, you are seriously missing out.
6. Do you have any pets? - No, much to my husband's dismay.
7. Would you like to travel to other planets, if possible? - I don't think so. Space travel kind of freaks me out. But I really love the movie Apollo 13.
8. Do you think encouraging children to believe in Santa is "lying" to them? - No way. I think it's good for kids to have something magical to believe in. 
9. Do you have a secret that only one or two other people know about? - I think that anyone who answers no to this question is lying.
10. What is the one thing that you would like you spouse/partner to stop doing? - Leaving Coke Zero cans all over the house.
11. What question have I forgotten to ask that you would like to answer? - How about my favorite season? I prefer fall/winter to summer/spring, and actually love when the clocks change and the days get shorter 

11 Questions For My Nominees

1. If your life is being turned into a movie, who would play you?
2. What was your favorite childhood book?
3. What was the last thing that made you laugh until you cried and your sides hurt?
4. Coffee or tea?
5. If you weren't doing what you are doing now, what would you want to do instead?
6. What is your favorite color and why?
7. If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would buy?
8. What is your go-to, never fail recipe for a weekday dinner?
9. What is the movie that, when you say you have never seen it, people look at you with that confused "I can't believe you never saw it" face?
10. If you could pick a character from a book or movie to be your best friend, who would it be?
11. What is your favorite season?

And My Nominees Are These Four Amazing Ladies

1. Bea, from Living off Script
2. Larks, from Maybe I Should Blog
3. Michelle, from The Journey
4. Ashley, from Ashley, Etc.

The Writing on the Wall

My parents recently moved to a new house, and since the move, all the stuff from my old room has been packed in boxes in my room in their new house. My mom has been after me to unpack the boxes and take some of the stuff home with me, but until recently, I didn't have anywhere to put anything, so I just left it in the boxes. But now that I have a new house with plenty of room, last night I decided to start going through the boxes to figure out what I want to take back with me after Thanksgiving.

I packed up lots of books and some favorite pictures and frames, and then I came across a box just marked "closet shelves." And when I opened the box, I found those six journals in the picture up there. I don't really remember being a serious journal keeper, so I expected the pages to be mostly blank. Imagine my surprise when, one by one, I opened each journal to find them all entirely filled with writing. Turns out, I was a bit of a journaler. From sixth grade through the end of my sophomore year in college, my entire life is documented in my own words.

Color me amazed.

I guess it's no accident that I have taken to blogging with such a fierce determination. Because really, I have been doing it in some form, albeit less public, for almost twenty years.

So, of course, I will be taking these six books back with me to New York to keep in my new house. And although I won't display them on my bookshelves like I will my prized book collection, and although I probably won't go back and read them (because honestly, who wants to read words written by their high school selves?), I will know that they are there, existing as a symbol. The writing on the wall if you will. A sign that I am, finally, becoming what I was always meant to be.

A writer.

Unpacking Books

At first, I wanted to wait until the kitchen was done to unpack all the boxes on the first floor. With all the workmen around and the construction dust that constantly settles all over everything, I thought it would be pretty counterproductive to start taking things out of boxes before everything was cleaned.

But today I started getting antsy. Because, as I have written about before, the place I live never quite feels like home until I unpack my books. Since college, whenever I move into a new place, I always, always set up my books first. I can handle the kitchen being under construction, and I can even handle not having my closets quite organized, but I couldn't relax while my books were still in boxes. I don't believe in e-books, and I rarely go to the library. I need to read actual books, and I have to own them. And I do own them. Hundreds.

So today, despite the kitchen still being under construction, I broke out the box of cleaning supplies, and scrubbed the shelves I had earmarked for my book collection. 

After everything was clean, along with some help from my sister, I opened all seven boxes of my books, and laid everything out so I could see what I had before I put everything up on the shelves.

I started with this:

It looks like a bit of a chaotic mess, but there is a method to my madness. Because before long, my shelves looked like this:

With three entire shelves dedicated to my Nora Roberts collection:

Astute readers might have noticed the empty shelf space. My sister has five of my Noras that she borrowed, so I am saving them shelf space for when they make their return to my collection.

When I lived in a tiny Manhattan apartment, my books took over our living room. But now that I live in a house the endless book shelves are dwarfing my substantial collection.

I am pretty sure that I will be spending some quality time on amazon.com placing some orders tonight...

Used Books on Broadway

One of my favorite parts of the Upper West Side of Manhattan is the used book sellers that populate the stretch of Broadway between 72nd and 75th Streets. On Thursday evenings they are out in force, and tables stand nearly end-to-end for the entire three blocks. 

Before my weekly grocery store trip, I always stop for awhile. I love hunting through the stacks of books - sometimes buying, sometimes browsing - somehow seeing the order in the haphazard piles.

Imagine my surprise last Thursday night when I noticed this. Four of my favorite Noras, all piled up. I wished for a second that I didn't already own all four, so I could buy one.

Yesterday I went back to that table to browse, and while three of the Noras remained, Northern Lights had disappeared.

As I write this I am thinking about the anonymous buyer, settling in to the couch, absorbing the love story of Meg and Nate, and the devastating beauty of Lunacy, Alaska.

I hope they enjoy it.

Quotable Wednesdays 4: Words

I'm starting a new tradition on this blog of mine...I have been reading lots of books lately, even more than usual. And in my literary (and pop culture) travels, I have stumbled across many, many fun bits of humor, brilliance, encouragement, and inspiration. Every week, pop by here on Wednesday for Quotable Wednesdays, where I share some of these delightful musings.

Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic"

                        Albus Dumbledore

                        Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Reading and Living in the City

It probably goes without saying that Manhattan is a place unlike any other. Depending on the day and the subject, this is either a good thing or a bad thing. We can get anything we want, at any time of the night - delivered if we so choose (good thing). We have to commute to work on crowded subways carrying passengers in various stages of cleanliness (bad thing). We have 843 acres right in the middle of our city of grass, woods, trails, and fields in which to play (good thing). We live in teeny-tiny apartments and consider ourselves lucky when said apartments boast full size kitchens and closets (bad thing). And the list goes on.

After seven years of living and working in this city, I have come to understand and appreciate Manhattan both for what it is, and what it is not. I love it for all of the things that it has given me - a law degree, a husband, incredible friends, a backbone, and epic adventures. And I dislike it, sometimes immensely, for all the annoyances that come with city living - carrying grocery bags home in the pouring rain, lack of closet space, barking dogs in the apartment next door, and steaming hot subway platforms. Needless to say, I have complicated feelings about Manhattan.

But even with all the complexity, sometimes something emerges from this city of ours that is magic. That makes me say, in that moment, "I am really glad to live here." I had one of those moments recently, and because it is Tuesday, the day where I pass along fun and happy things that I discover, I thought it was the perfect time to share.

You all know that I am loud and proud when it comes to the books I read. I love to read on buses, subways, and pretty much anywhere I have a free few minutes. And even more than I love to read during my commutes though, I love to look around to see what everyone else is reading. This has become more difficult lately due to the ubiquity of e-readers. When Kindles abound, we who like to spy on readers and their book selections have a choice to make. We can either decide to let our curiosity dissipate, or we can hover over the Kindle user's shoulder to try and catch the title of the book that lives at the top of the screen while simultaneously attempting the correct body language so as not to come across as a creepy stalker. I have tried this second option, many times. It's a hard balance to strike. Trust me.

So those of us who like to carry actual books and watch other people who carry actual books are usually left disappointed and wondering what will become of our most favored accessory now that e-readers rule the day.

Enter today's bit of fun.

While perusing some blogs the other day, I stumbled upon a link to something called the Underground New York Public Library. In 2008, a photographer named Ourit Ben-Haim got an idea. Her idea was to ride the New York City subways, and take pictures of readers. For four years she has haunted subway trains and platforms, capturing straphangers immersed in the pages of books. Not in the screens of e-readers, but in the actual pages of actual books. And late last year, she turned her work into a blog.

Every day she posts pictures of people consuming their literature of choice, and invites her followers to look and to comment. The pictures are generally candid, and the subway lines are never disclosed. Ourit doesn't provide editorials, or stick to a particular author or genre. She doesn't seek out a specific class of individuals. She just looks for people holding books, and she takes their picture. Late last week she even caught a woman reading a Nora.

The result of Ourit's efforts is a stunning portrait of the community of readers that meets below the city streets. A community that I love, and a community of which I am a frequent member. At a time where countless people are embracing the anonymity of the e-reader, her work has never been more important.

I have spent a good part of my life connecting with people through the books that we read, and feel an instant kinship with the readers portrayed on the pages of Ourit's Underground Public Library. I get a little thrill when I spy a picture of someone reading something familiar to me, and have even copied down titles of books I don't recognize to add to my ever-growing library. I hope you will take a minute on this otherwise ordinary Tuesday to check out Ourit's blog, and I hope that one of her pictures speaks to you, as they do so often to me. Together, we will keep tangible books en vogue for a long time to come.

Quotable Wednesdays 3: A Little Jane Austen

I'm starting a new tradition on this blog of mine...I have been reading lots of books lately, even more than usual. And in my literary (and pop culture) travels, I have stumbled across many, many fun bits of humor, brilliance, encouragement, and inspiration. Every week, pop by here on Wednesday for Quotable Wednesdays, where I share some of these delightful musings.

"I Declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! - When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

                           -Jane Austen
                            Pride and Prejudice

Tuesday Round Up 2: Happy Susan Elizabeth Phillips Day!

As I have written before, Tuesday is not my favorite day of the week. In fact, Tuesday is my least favorite day of the week. On Tuesday, I usually look for a little pick-me-up (aside from the inevitable extra caffeine). And a few weeks ago, I decided to share those (non-caffeinated) pick-me-ups with you, in the likely event that you, too, have a day of the week where you simply can not function with a little outside influence.

And today, I have the best outside influence of all. Because today is the day that Susan Elizabeth Phillips' new book, The Great Escape, hits bookshelves. As I write this, my brand new copy, procured from Barnes and Noble bright and early this morning, sits next to me on my desk. And I can hardly wait to open it because I know exactly what awaits me.

The Great Escape is the much anticipated follow-up to last year's Call Me Irresistable, which featured Lucy Jorik running away from her wedding and her best friend Meg Koranda taking the heat. Meg falls in love with Lucy's ex-fiance, and he with her, and all is right with the world. Except we were all left wondering, "what happened to Lucy?" The Great Escape is Susan Elizabeth Phillips' answer to our questions, and I could not possibly be more excited. I am so excited, in fact, that I am saving the book for this weekend so that I can read the entire thing, from cover to cover, without interruption. Willpower of immense proportions, I tell you.

I feel like I have been looking forward to this book more than I have any new romance novel in recent memory. And I know the exact reason why. About a year ago, I discovered that Susan Elizabeth Phillips has a Facebook page. I "liked" her page one day on a whim, and am now treated to a delightful daily dose of her musings. She writes about her family, her house, her daily routine, and, most importantly, she writes about writing. She has been posting about Lucy's story for the better part of the last year. She has posted about plot, characters, re-writes and editing, and has even crowd-sourced some ideas as she motored along. I have loved having this window into her life and her writing process, and know that I will love the book even more because of it.

Another fun reason I am looking forward to Lucy's story? Because I met Susan in person just as she was starting to write it. Last year, I attended an evening meet-and-greet at the Romance Writers of America Convention in New York City. It was predictably amazing. The entire ballroom of the Marriott Marquis in Times Square was filled with writers. Every square inch was occupied with a romance novelist ready and willing to sign books and talk to fans. The line for Susan's table was long, but when we finally reached her she was sparkly and cheerful, and happy to sign the (many) books we brought for the occasion.

It was so fun to meet her last year that I e-mailed her last week to find out if she would be making a stop in New York this year on her Great Escape tour. Alas, she e-mailed me back yesterday to say that she is by-passing the city this summer and heading west instead. Wishing her lots of luck on her tour, and counting the minutes until Saturday morning when I crack open The Great Escape and read Lucy's well deserved and much anticipated story.

Happy Tuesday to all...Will you be spending this weekend immersed in The Great Escape, as I will be?