Plot Monkeys

Last week, I mentioned Tommy Shaw of the rock group, Styx, which believe it or not, is still together and still rocking, albeit without Dennis DeYoung and the Panozzo brothers (one died, the other retired) and mostly, without Shaw, though he pops back in from time to time. In the new incarnation, I like their music, but not like I did in the band’s hey day. I was a certifiable Styx…well, not groupie! Too young for that. But I loved their music to utter distraction.

I know, I know…I should be too young for Styx as their “hey day” was in the 70s and my era is really the 80s. But I have an older brother and his musical tastes influenced mine.

Besides, Tommy Shaw was hot.

He was entirely not my “type.” He’s not tall. He’s blond. But for some reason, he appealed to me on many levels. But I think as a creative soul, his music really got me. (And those hypnotic blue eyes…I do have a thing for blue eyes.) And man, can that boy move on stage!

The whole group’s music “got” to me. Unlike much of the music during the disco era (which had a great beat and was fabulous to dance to…and we all know I love to dance!), the music of the seventies had stories. I love stories–even back then, before I had any inkling that I was supposed to be a writer. See, I’d written three books in the sixth grade, but after that, I let my writing go by the wayside. I discovered Styx around the 8th grade, which was when my mother forbade me from attending a concert with my older brother. (And wouldn’t you know it…my brother ended up meeting the band after the show? Talk about heartbroken!)

The lyrics really grabbed me. The music, too, but I think it was the way the lyrics seeped into my brain and got the mechanisms churning that really held on tight to me. Songs like “The Angry Young Man” spoke to my teenage angsty soul in a way that reminded me that your future is what you make it. “Too Much Time on My Hands” was a brilliant look at how insanity can be caused by sheer boredom, something I’ve always had trouble dealing with (boredom, not insanity!)

But while I was a crazy Styx fan for a long time, nothing seized my imagination better than the album that likely brought the group down. That would be Kilroy Was Here. I know, I know…a lot of people hated that album. They hated the concept. The reviews were merciless. But when I saw it live–yes, I finally made it to a concert my freshman year in college!–I was mesmerized.

It was the blending of theater and rock opera. The costumes, the story, the music, Tommy in sexy leather pants, playing the role of the hero.

Amazing.

I have a video of that concert, but I’ve never been able to get myself to play it. It’s over 20 years old now. It probably doesn’t even work. But while part of me wants to relive that magic, part of me doesn’t want to ruin the memory.

Now, let’s be honest. I don’t write in any way resembling the larger than life concepts that Styx had in their music. But I love theater and showmanship and grand performances. Their music snuck into my brain and inspired a lot of writing that I hardly even remembered until I started really thinking about the influence of this band on me. Fantasy stories mostly, but the prelude to my first historical novels. The romanticism in their music fed my soul. Don’t Let It End? Come Sail Away? Babe? Oh, yeah!

I could tell you a million Styx stories, but I think I’ve made the point. Some music speaks to us in long-lasting ways. I still get goosebumps when one of the songs comes on the radio.

In Monday’s comments, I mentioned my leather wardrobe. The red leather skirt with the black and white leopard skin spandex top got me noticed at that 1983 Styx concert. Tommy told me he liked the skirt. I told him I loved his music. I got a kiss on the cheek. The entire exchange took all of five seconds, but I still remember it to this day. I could have happily died that day, but I still hadn’t met Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker). (That happened a year later…no kiss, but an autograph!)

Anyway, memory lane trips are always fun for me. So, what groups and music was your teenage soundtrack? What songs do you still crank up when you hear them on the radio?

HOT ITEM, the last book in my Hot Zone mini-series is on sale today! So in an effort to assist my cheesy begging for all of you to go out and buy this book NOW (either in stores or online), I’m posting an excerpt that isn’t available anywhere else. Not on my website, not in the romance emails that will be coming around from various places this week, nowhere.

This teaser is for FOR PLOTMONKEYS READERS ONLY. A special thanks for visiting us here.

Taken from a scene in Chapter Three …
Riley didn’t know what had gotten into him. One minute he’d been ignoring Sophie and her pissy attitude and the next he was enjoying watching her squirm. She couldn’t handle the sexual banter without blushing a hot shade of red, which only made him want to push her buttons even more.

She was cute when she was mad but when piqued by jealousy, like when she hadn’t been sure who Elizabeth was, Sophie was downright sexy. He’d followed her into small bathroom to . . . what?

“I’m not joining the Mile High Club with you.” She glared at him but those wide blue eyes flashed with definite interest, contradicting her words.

“And here I thought you were already a member,” he said, wryly.

No way had she ever had sex anywhere but a bedroom in the missionary position. He’d bet his Superbowl Ring on it. But suddenly the thought of initiating her to sex in different places and positions held great appeal. He had a damn hard on to prove it.

Shit.

This wasn’t the first time his impulsive behavior had gotten him into trouble. Like the time he’d been caught making out with the teaching assistant in the janitor’s room in college. The difference was, the T.A. had been older and willing.

Sophie, for all her N.Y.C. chic and experience was definitely a lady in every sense of the term. It was part of what drew him to her, Riley knew. The lure of someone new and different. Someone special. He couldn’t deny the chemistry between them or how easily he could get her to succumb, but that was the simple part because flirting came easily to Riley. Things with Sophie were more complicated.

He rarely sought out women the way he did with Sophie. She deserved better than a quickie in the sky, no matter how much fun it might be. To distract himself, he reached over and pulled some paper towels from the holder, dampened them and began to blot her shirt where the wine had stained.

He grit his teeth, determined to ignore her full breasts and pointed nipples. Perfectly rounded breasts and hardened tips just made for a man to suckle and tease. He tried to focus instead on her flat belly where the liquid had concentrated.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Seriously, Riley. What are you doing in here?”

He groaned. Good question. One he was still trying to sort through himself. No way would he admit he’d just followed her on impulse. “Since we’re going to be spending time together, I thought we could come to an understanding.”

She shifted in an obvious attempt to get more comfortable in the cramped space but her thighs came in direct contact with his and the flame burned hotter. Her sweet sugary scent, more refined and classy than most women’s, sent his already heightened senses soaring.

Sophie drew in a startled breath, an admission that the awareness between them definitely wasn’t one sided.

Yet she sighed in clear annoyance.

“Just what did I do to piss you off so badly?” he asked.

“You were late.” She said the word as if he’d committed a cardinal sin.

She turned toward the mirror and he followed her stare so she was unable to look there without seeing his shocked expression.

“That’s it?” he asked. “I arrived a few minutes late and you’re holding it against me?”

“It was rude! We agreed to meet before the flight. You left me wondering if you were even going to make it in time.” Her voice quivered and she glanced the opposite way, this time towards the safety of the empty wall. “I told you routine gives me comfort.” She spoke the last words softly.

A quiet admission of weakness, Riley thought.

Aww, hell. He hadn’t meant to alarm her. He’d forgotten how seriously Sophie took life. Even with the dim lighting in the restroom, he could see her cheeks had turned pink and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth, embarrassed at admitting her neuroses aloud.
“Hey,” he said, softly. “I said I’d be here.”

“And I was supposed to take your word for it? The minutes ticked by and boarding had begun –“

“Were the cabin doors closed?”

She shook her head.

“Well then, there was still plenty of time for me to arrive.”

“I don’t work that way. I don’t think that way. I plan ahead. And right now I need to find Spencer before my whole place of business falls apart. I have Cambias sniffing around and no sign of Spencer. He said he’d be in by nine on Monday and he wasn’t. You said you’d meet me at the gate,” she said, the implication clear.

He’d let her down. The thought didn’t sit well with him. Not a normal reaction for a man who did his own thing on his own schedule and answered to no one.

Most people accepted his behavior.

Sophie wasn’t most people.

She folded her arms across her chest, as if that would provide a barrier between him and her emotions. Between them.

As if.

He placed a hand beneath her chin and turned her face towards him. Her skin was softer than anything he’d caressed before and his gut churned with the sudden desire to kiss her lips and see if that pink pout felt as seductive as it looked. If her mouth tasted like the sweet heaven he imagined.

He shook his head to distract his thoughts. They had a mutual goal. To find his father and smooth over the mess created by the media. Not to find one another at thirty thousand feet.

To that end, they needed each other. “Look, I’m just not used to answering to anyone except Lizzy.”

Sophie blinked, probably as startled by his semi-apology as he was.

“That’s what you call your daughter, Elizabeth?” she said.

He nodded, the old familiar pride welling inside him. Lizzy was Riley’s whole world and he’d do right by her in ways his biological parent hadn’t done by him. He’d be there for her and she’d know her daddy loved her.

“Lizzy’s thirteen going on eighteen. She has attitude up the wazoo and some discipline problems at school but she’s gorgeous. I’m going to have to buy a shot gun to keep the hormonal idiots away,” he said, awed as always by the young lady his daughter was becoming.

Sophie laughed, a light airy, more relaxed sound than he’d heard from her since boarding.

“I take it you have some first hand experience with being one of those hormonal idiots?” she asked.

“You know what they say. Boys’ll be boys.”

She inclined her head. “So what do you suggest we do to make this arrangement work?” She turned the conversation back to them.

He leaned against the counter, thinking about what would help them get along for the duration of the trip when the desire between them was a tangible thing. “How about we begin by understanding each other a little more. I’ll start. Atkins is my long lost father and though I have my reasons for needing to talk to him, I doubt he’ll be happy to see me.” Riley offered the difficult admission as a peace offering.

A flash of understanding flickered in her eyes along with the steely resolve he’d seen before. “I respect your privacy but you hired me to help you. Besides before I can bring you to Spencer, I’m going to need to know those reasons. We’re like –“

“Family. I know.” When used along with Spencer Atkins, the word family tasted sour in his mouth.

He paused, wondering how much more detail to reveal now and decided the lavatory wasn’t the place for long winded explanations. “I’ll fill you in. Just not here.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. I suppose you’re looking for an admission of my own? A quid pro quo towards understanding? Well fine,” she said before he could reply. “I’m a pro at handling other people’s crises but not when everything around me is falling apart. If Spencer doesn’t turn up soon, my entire life’s going to crash and burn.” She blinked once, then blinked again.

He thought she was fighting tears but she covered so well he couldn’t be certain. He admired that strength.

All Riley knew for sure was that for Sophie, routine provided comfort and Atkins’ disappearance had thrown her carefully structured life into disarray.

They had that in common, he thought. The desire to take care of her threw him. For the first time other than Lizzy, it wasn’t all about him and those feelings for Sophie screwed with his carefree philosophy on life and made him nervous.

Still, he couldn’t stop the words that came next. “I’ll try harder not to screw up your schedule,” he said, hoping he could handle answering to someone, even on a short term basis.

“Thanks.” She offered a smile and something inside him lightened with the knowledge that he’d eased her burden.

“And I’ll try not to be such an uptight pain in the ass,” she said, taking him by surprise.

He hadn’t expected her to know herself so well or to admit as much to him. Drawn by need and a compulsion he couldn’t explain, Riley reached out and pulled at the binding holding her bun in place. She gasped in surprise as strands of honey colored hair fell around her face in waves, softening her features, making her appear infinitely more touchable.

More human.

More kissable.

She moistened her lips and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Right now he was definitely one of those hormonal idiots they’d just discussed. He leaned in so they were almost cheek to cheek and he inhaled her fragrant scent.

Together they generated enough heat in the small space to steam the mirror, set off the smoke alarm and send the flight attendants barging in.

“Ladies and Gentleman, the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Everyone please take their seats as soon as possible.” The flight attendant’s voice broke into his thoughts.

He saw in her expression the minute she realized that she’d almost kissed Riley Nash at thirty thousand feet. Her eyes opened wide and she jerked away. Her knees came in contact with the toilet bowl and she ended up sitting on the closed seat with a thud.

He chuckled and held out his hand to help her up. “Tell you what. I’ll leave first and you can sneak out after me.”

“You’re a true gentleman, Nash.” Her voice held more than a hint of sarcasm but her eyes held a wealth of gratitude.

He decided not to remind her that people had probably already seen him follow her into the bathroom or what they already thought the two of them were doing in here. She had enough on her mind and Riley’s presence on this trip probably wasn’t helping her keep things in her life running smoothly.

But he couldn’t change the strength of their attraction nor, he admitted, did he want to.

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I have a major wedding anniversary coming up in about six weeks–my twentieth. I find it pretty wonderful that I’ve now been married to a man I still adore for almost half my life. But I do find it hard to fathom sometimes…twenty years? How can I have been married twenty years when I’m only…when I’m so… Oh, hell, I really am forty-one.

It doesn’t seem like twenty years have gone by. When I look in the mirror, my mind plays tricks on me and I still see that twenty-one year old. The aches and pains in my back or my legs remind me of those years, but my mind still seems the same. My DH and I still laugh at the same stupid jokes, we still enjoy doing the same things. (Some have definitely improved with age. ) So how could I have possibly aged that much?

I think it’s when I look at my kids that the passage of time really slams me in the face. They grew up when I blinked. Julie, Carly and I talked about that on this blog last week and it’s very true, children definitely provide an instant yardstick of the passing of time.

Since we already covered that, I figured I’d share some of the other ways I’ve measured the passage of those years. I’ve been thinking a lot about them since last week when Carly sent a funny chain email around, talking about growing up in the seventies. It came with lots of pictures of stuff I’d forgotten existed, all of which brought an instant sense of warmth and laughter and happy memories. (Who didn’t have Donnie & Marie dolls, or bikes with banana seats, huh? Fess up!)

Slightly off topic–anyone besides me remember Dawn dolls?

I absolutely adored them and have often told my kids about them, remembering them as miniaturized Barbies. Well, I was in Kay Bee last week and lo and behold, there were new Dawn dolls! Part of me was overjoyed. Part of me wondered why nobody can think up an original idea.

Okay, back on topic. Carly’s email reminded me of how things had changed from the first twenty years of my life til now, so I just started to think about what has changed in the second twenty. A few things came immediately to my mind and I thought I’d throw them out there so we can all remind ourselves just how very different things are from a brief twenty years ago.

Note: There are, of course, a ton of political/entertainment/pop culture/history changes, but I’m going to focus strictly on the everyday things that affect(ed) me personally.

1. When Bruce and I were dating, I wore jumpsuits. A lot. And sometimes those thick cloth headbands around my forehead a’ la Flashdance. My hubby wore Members Only jackets and OP corduroy shorts.
(He actually did look a little like Tom Selleck, which was totally hot. My girls saw a video recently of him wearing some and they almost fell off the couch laughing.) We often rode around in my hubby’s Jeep–with the top off. It was one of the old Wranglers, before they made them “safe” and I quickly learned that one should never attempt to eat an ice cream cone in a topless Jeep while riding on the interstate.

2. We got our first ATM cards around that time, only there was no “Presto” network. They worked only at the machines at the branches of my local, small-town bank.

3. Shortly before we got married, I bought a brand spanking new Honda Civic CRX. An absolutely adorable car that got 60 miles to the gallon.

Ahem. Yes, you read that right. 60 miles to the gallon. Twenty years later, WHY has no one produced another car that gets 60 miles to the gallon?

4. That car had no air conditioning and no radio. They were options–pricey ones. Do they even sell cars without A.C.’s and stereos now?

5. One of our wedding gifts was a microwave oven that took up half my countertop and was probably big enough to cook an entire side of beef. And the only thing we used it for was to make popcorn, and never stood in front of it while it was running because of those cancer worries.

6. Going to the video store was always an adventure. Not because you had to decide between VHS tapes and DVD’s, but because you had to choose between VHS and Betamax. We had VHS. My parents had a Beta. Very annoying when we wanted to get together to watch rented movies.

7. We got our first desktop computer in 1989. It had an amber monochrome monitor and was about the size of my Honda, and I remember thinking we were hot stuff because it actually came with a HARD drive. (And because it had Wheel of Fortune built right in! Wahoo!)
Before that, most models came with dual floppy drives (remember those 5 ¼ inch ones that really were floppy?) We couldn’t afford a printer or internet access (not that I really understood the internet anyway.) Hmm, why is it that now, twenty years later, I cannot exist without it? I really did just fine then…actually knew how to use a telephone book or an encyclopedia. Would shop out of real catalogs or in real stores rather than from my living room computer and knew how to pick up a phone and sit patiently while listening to the list of movie times at the local theater. (Was there life before Fandango?)

8. I was terrified during the first Gulf War and I remember sitting in the evenings and watching the TV coverage of the bombs lighting the night sky. The “televised” war was a relatively new thing. I’m not sure to this day whether it was a good one or a bad one.

9. We bought a boat-sized, silver Volvo right around the time minivans started becoming popular. Bought a minivan right around the time SUV’s were revving up. Always just behind the curve, ya know?

10. 1992…umh, the Russians are our friends now?

11. Cell phones. Didn’t have one. Didn’t know anyone who did. Our first was in the early nineties and it was one of these big giant jobs that came with its own carrying suitcase.

Back then, it didn’t seem to matter so much because there was this thing called an answering machine and when you got home, if the red light was blinking, you’d push a button and find out who had been trying to reach you. And if your kids needed to come home for dinner, you stuck your head outside and yelled for them, you didn’t push a speed dial button on your cell, which instantly connected you to theirs.

12. We had a CD player and cd’s but it wasn’t until probably the mid nineties that they became my exclusive way of listening to music. (And even then, probably only because I couldn’t find a replacement needle for my turntable.) I honestly don’t think my 10 year old has ever actually seen a 33 lp. Who would ever have imagined such a thing as an mp3 player that could put hundreds of downloaded songs in the palm of your hand…weren’t we excited enough by the Sony Walkman that we could take with us to play one whole CD when we went out for a walk?

13. We used to be able to wait at the airport gate when someone was flying in for a visit. How weird does that seem now?

14. Got our second “real” computer in the mid 90’s and we subscribed to AOL. Thus began my love affair with the internet. By 1997, I’d discovered this neat thing called a “message board” and started hanging out there among other people who had the same crazy hobby I did…writing romance novels. One of those people was named Carly Phillips.

15. In 1997, we probably took the kids to 198 birthday parties at Discovery Zone.
And invariably one of them would scream after landing on a squishy dirty diaper in the ball pit, or would refuse to get out when it was time to leave, requiring me to climb after them through a brightly-colored, padded torture chamber. Every other parent would give a smile of commiseration, since every one of them had had to dive into the ball pit or ride the bumpy slide after a recalcitrant child of their own.

Hmm…out of all of the above, which would I most like to re-live right now? You know, actually that’s easy. What I wouldn’t give for one more afternoon in my hubby’s Jeep–wearing my jumpsuit, sitting beside him in his OP shorts–trying to keep my hair out of my Mint Chocolate Chip as we cruise for hours under a bright blue sky, on an endless road that seemed completely full of possibilities.

Funny…I guess it was.

So what about you? Care to share? You might be surprised by just how different things are today from where they were yesterday…when we were young.

The winner of Friday’s Jungle Madness contest is GIGI!!! Congratulations, Gigi! Your name was drawn to receive a Chocolate-opoly game set (The Monopoly version for chocolate lovers!), and an autographed copy of Janelle’s February 2006 Blaze release, SINFULLY SWEET (or an autographed book from Janelle’s backlist if you already have that book).

To claim your prize, all you have to do is email me directly with your full name, mailing address, and whether you’d like SINFULLY SWEET, or a different book from my backlist (depending on availability). You can email me at: janelledenison@sbcglobal.net

And now, a weekend chuckle, and one I can definitely relate to! How many of you out there have felt exactly the same way?

This is the day we’ll give you a glimpse into the process of writing–a chance for the aspiring writers to pick our brains or our readers to ask how we do what we do. Do you have a question for us? Send them to carly@carlyphillips.com and put Plotmonkey Saturday Question in the subject line.

Here’s today’s entry:

When you’re sitting down to write a book, what comes first…the plot, the premise or the characters?

JEL: It totally depends on the book and the process is never the same for me. Sometimes, the setting can come first, like when I sat down to write a book set in New Orleans. The characters came out of the setting, the plot evolved out of the characters. Sometimes, it’s the character that starts the ball rolling, like with my first Marisela book. The second Marisela book, however, since the characters were the same, came from the theme–I wanted her to deal with the next stage in being an agent and put her in a “fish out of water” situation. I have a few novellas coming up that the premise was given to me (matchmaking taxi driver in A FARE TO REMEMBER or baseball in BOYS OF SUMMER) so in both of those cases, I started with the premise, worked the common theme with the other authors, then on the plot and characters. One thing I’ve learned is that you have to be flexible in this business.

CP: I always look for something that interests me, whether it’s the sports hero (like the Hot Zone series), the idea of twins (the Costas sisters), or sometimes I’ll have a character trait that I want to use, such as Vaughn’s dyslexia in Hot Stuff. I knew from an article years ago on Tom Cruise (pre sofa-jumping days) that I wanted to use the idea, and everything about him built from that - his parents being professors who didn’t “get” him and viewed him and his sports achievements as a disappointment. It’s always one thing that begins a story for me and everything else gets built around it. With the Chandler brothers, the idea of three bachelor brothers and their mother pretending to be sick was given to me by an editor and I built the trilogy and everything in it from there. I do find that my process is usually the same and yet it’s always different. How’s THAT for clear as mud, LOL!

LK: I quite often find myself starting a book with a “moment.” Just a scene I picture in my head for some reason. I started playing with it–developing it–trying to see who, exactly, the people in it are and what is taking place. My second book Suite Seduction started when I just had this image of a woman eating an entire chocolate cake and swilling a bottle of champagne. My third, Relentless, started when I had an image of a woman sitting inside a giant paper “cake” about to pop out of it at a bachelor party. At that point, I didn’t know if she was a hired stripper, if she was doing it as a joke, or what! (She turned out to be the bride.)

Once I have the moment, I work on the characters, then the plot.

That, at least, is how I have done it so far.

JD: My books always tend to start with a premise of some sort. In my Surf’s Up anthology coming out in July, Leslie came up with a great idea of having a heroine who is a jeweler, and a hero who is an ex-jewel thief. From there, the characters developed, and luckily in that story the conflict was pretty well built in! For my single titles, they start with a premise, as well. In Too Wilde To Tame, I had the idea of the very wild and untamable heroine, Mia, being the target of a stalker who takes provocative pictures of Mia, then uses them in a threatening way against the heroine. The hero, Cameron, is a P.I., so putting them together was pretty easy. Plus, they did have a past. For me, it’s so much easier to build character, plot, and conflict around a premise. And once I do have a premise of some sort, it’s an ongoing process to figure out just the right character, conflict, and plot to carry the story off!

Do you have a question for the monkeys? Don’t forget to email Carly at carly@carlyphillips.com if you do!

As most of you know, Fridays in the jungle are for free giveaways! Whoo-hoo!!! For the past three weeks the prizes have revolved around delicious pecan pie, Jelly Bellys, pralines and, of course, great books! Well, this week Janelle is giving away a deliciously fun gift prize that has to do with chocolate, but is completely FAT AND CALORIE FREE!!! So, the winner can enjoy this prize to their hearts content without worrying it’ll go straight to their hips. How great is that?

One grand prize winner will receive a Chocolate-opoly game set (The Monopoly version for chocolate lovers!). Chocolate is the theme of Janelle’s February 2006 Blaze release, SINFULLY SWEET, a decadent Valentine’s Day Collection of three hot and sexy stories by three of Harlequin’s Blaze authors! Winner will also receive an autographed copy of SINFULLY SWEET, (or an autographed book from Janelle’s backlist if you already have that book).

What is CHOCOLATE-OPOLY? A decadently delicious property trading game for chocolate lovers, in the same theme as Monopoly! Chocolate: dark, milk, bittersweet, semi-sweet, in a shake, filled with caramel, covered in nuts, or as a warm, frothy brew – there’s nothing the cocoa bean can’t do. Statistically speaking, nine out of ten people surveyed love chocolate. The tenth person always lies! Chocolate-opoly celebrates this glorious obsession.

Here’s a quick idea of how to play! Buy favorite chocolate properties, collect chunks of chocolate and trade them in for chocolate factories. Sounds easy enough – but pay your roasting fees, suppress your cravings, or get sent to Chocoholics Anonymous and it becomes a little more difficult . . . and a lot more fun. So, choose your token (tokens include a chocolate dipped strawberry, chocolate chip cookie, piece of cake, chocolate chip, cocoa beans, and hot fudge sundae!) and then roll the dice! Who knows? You may be chosen as a “super-taster”, or you may experience Death by Chocolate. Here’s a game for the true chocophile!

All you have to do to enter this contest is post on today’s blog. Winners will be choosen by an impartial family member and will be announced on Sunday. So, be sure to check back on Sunday to see if you’ve won!

I guess I’m odd woman out this week. While Leslie, Carly, and Julie have written about graduation, the maturity of teenagers, and reminisced about their high school years, I thought I’d veer off course and do something fun and different.

If you were stranded on a deserted island for a year with just the shoes and clothes on your body, and could only take five (5) items with you, what would they be? What couldn’t you live without? (No people or electronics allowed! I hear Carly gasping in panic that she won’t be able to take her iPod or Laptop, LOL!).

Here’s what I’d take:

1. My dog Sandie (pictured right with her feline buddy, Zoey). She’s such a sweet, loving dog, and not only would she protect me and help me find food, but she’d keep me warm at night. She’s a big cuddle-bug, as well as a fierce protector when the situation calls for it.

2. A big, huge case of college rule lined paper. At first I thought maybe I’d take a book, but once I read that book, that would be it and I can’t imagine reading the same book over and over again for an entire year. So, I’d take lots of paper so I could create my own stories and hopefully get them published when I arrived back home.

3. Bug spray!!! No explanation needed .

4. Lip balm. I wear the stuff all the time and feel absolutely naked without it! And I’m prone to my lips blistering in the sun. Gotta have it with me!

5. A case of Hershey’s kisses. Hey, I have my priorities and chocolate is one of them! With Hershey kisses, I can take one small piece of chocolate at a time and savor each piece.

So, what are your “must haves” if you were stranded on a deserted island for a year?

Okay, this really isn’t about that Disney movie, but it is about high school. Leslie’s daughter’s graduation made me think about my own high school years. Back then, I don’t ever remember worrying about what activities I was involved in the way kids are now–as a means to get into college. Which college I got into didn’t really much matter. I was a fairly average student (3.2 GPA or something like that) and I knew I could pretty much count on getting into the state college I wanted to attend. I wasn’t interested in moving far from home, I didn’t have any aspirations toward the Ivy League. I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do career-wise. I just knew I liked school, but I liked my activities more than class. Who didn’t?

Which made me wonder if any of those activities helped me in my current life, since they are what I focused on much more than any class I took.

(This is a scan from my high school yearbook. I’m surprised I even HAD a picture in the yearbook. No love lost, you know? Besides, our senior yearbook had a disaster that involved rain and open windows, so most of the good pictures were lost at the end of the year. In case you couldn’t guess, I’m the one in pink.)

I was in student government. VERY much into student government. I’m participating in a leadership exercise in the picture above. I know I don’t look very enthusiastic…like I said, bad pics. The workshop was at Disney World…who can NOT be enthusiastic at the happiest place on earth?

Anyway, in student government, most people just did things my way because I was meaner than everyone else. Or at least, I was VERY convincing. In other words, I was bossy then, I’m bossy now. Check.

I was on the dance team. Loved that, but wasn’t willing to sacrifice anything else for it. Quit at least twice, once after I wasn’t made captain even though I deserved it. My best friend got it, which made it VERY hard to pout. But I still quit so I could give more time to student government. I was a diva then and I’m a diva now. Check.

Drama and singing. Loved that. Loved, loved, loved. Was caught more than once with a script in my Algebra book. You could take me out of just about anything, but not this. Wanted me to sing a solo in front of 1000 people? No problem. Obviously, speaking in public doesn’t scare me. I don’t have to carry a tune. Was a ham then and am a ham now. Check.

I didn’t do anything associated with writing. Yearbook was too clicky. Literary magazine too weird. Newspaper? Did we have a newspaper? (Yes, we did, it was called the Accolade and I don’t remember a single other thing about it.) I did write skits for student government.
Lots and lots of those. I’m the chick just off to the left, looking down. I know this was called, “History of the World, Part 83.” It was our senior skit. I remember my toga was pink. After that, can’t tell you much. English was the only honors class I’d take and I loved it a lot. Loved words, but was picky about who I wrote them for. Yup. Still the same. Check!

So here’s my question…think back to your high school years. Did any of those activities translate into your current life and career? I think being a bossy diva who isn’t afraid to stand up in front of people and be a ham and who is picky about who she writes for has all come in very handy for me. How about you?

Oy! And then there was college…

PLOTMONKEYS THINK ALIKE (part one)
It’s interesting. I wrote this post all on my own, then I decided to peek at Leslie’s before inputting mine for Tuesday. What did I find? We’re on the same wavelength. How this can happen when we a) live miles and miles; states and states apart; b) we both had such busy weekends neither one of us spoke or emailed much at all; and c) neither one of us are mind readers? the answer is clear, of course. We’re close friends, (plotmonkeys, doesn’t that say it all?) and we’re mothers. Of girls. That says even more. Apparently we both are lamenting our daughter’s aging along with admiring how well they’ve matured. And how much more I am sure they have to go.

So without further ado, here is MY weekend with my daughter. And Les, I have no idea why they have to grow up so fast!

This weekend I took my oldest daughter with me to Bookseller’s Expo in Washington, D.C. For both of us it was an experience. She had the opportunity to see what I do when I go away for the weekend on business and I got the chance to see her interact with people I work with. Whenever anyone asked if she was having fun, I said the real test would be if she asked to go with me again next year.

We flew into Washington’s Reagan International Airport midday. The flight was uneventful (take that, Janelle who says I’m a hazard to fly with! and I slept most of the short trip. We took a cab from the airport to the hotel and snapped photos along the way. As soon as we arrived at the room, my daughter flopped onto the first bed and claimed it as her own. She even helped me unpack. Then we were off to meet a friend of mine, young adult author Nikki Burnham for dinner. Jackie is a fan of Nikki’s and Nikki and I had laughed over the fact that my daughter would come to see that Nikki is really “just like her mom.” But we had a lot of fun over dinner and then went book shopping at Barnes and Noble before going back to the hotel and crashed.

The next morning, I did a traditional autograph signing at what BEA calls “the chutes”. I signed 140 books in under an hour and Jackie got a signed copy of Sarah Dessen’s Just Listen. Afterwards, we wandered around the convention center and picked up all sorts of fun stuff before going for a business lunch. I was so proud of the way she held up without once complaining.

Finally, we had time alone. As I’d promised we went to see the Holocaust Museum.

Wow. Wow and double wow. It’s one thing to experience something that powerful alone, or to think you know the depth of human depravity and inhumanity, or that you learned all you could on the subject growing up. It’s quite another to visit with your daughter and see the experience through her eyes.

If nothing else, Remember the Children: Daniel’s Story brought home the events leading up to the holocaust and the camps through a child’s eyes. MY child. I’ve never been so moved or humbled. Later, we visited the Vietnam Memorial, the Korean Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial.

By the end of the day we’d had
enough memorials and we went for dinner with cousins, then shopping at Urban Outfitters and then had ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s. (See we TOLD you you’d hear about Ben and Jerry’s!).

The next morning, I had another book signing at the Harlequin Booth and my daughter handed out canvas Harlequin bags like a real trooper. She met the delightful Heather Graham who I adore and we picked up so many advanced reading copies of books, she nearly forgave me for forcing her to drag our luggage to the convention center (when I booked flights I forgot to include time to go back to the hotel and get our bags!) and the center was split level and not easy to get around especially with luggage!

Finally we headed out to the airport … we ate lunch at TGI Friday’s there and then settled in early at the gate where I played the end of Prison Break on my laptop and watched the second to last episode of 24 while she viewed standup comedy and read her book.

We arrived home happy to see her sister and dad and the dog and she quickly escaped to her room … and I have barely seen her since! I have to say that I will treasure the weekend we had together since teenagers value their private time. I’m lucky she wanted to come with me and I can’t wait until it’s her sister’s turn to do the same.

And the good news? BEA is in NY next year … and she asked if she could come again. I guess that means she enjoyed herself too.

PART TWO
ODE TO ALIAS – CARLY’S MUSINGS

I’m watching THE FINALE OF ALIAS. It’s been five years since it all began. Five years ago I was 35. Five years ago, my kids were 5 and 9. I don’t think Kelly Ripa had picked THE BACHELOR yet. Five years ago, I was awestruck by Sydney Bristow and the writing and plotting of JJ Abrams. I’ve yelled and screamed every season since. I’ve been frustrated and angry; happy and sad. Nothing has motivated my writing like watching Alias. So as I view THE END, I am going to post about my beloved characters … just because. Because I have this blog and I CAN.

Marshall – the boy’s become a man. He started out as a goof and now he’s a strong man. Standing up for his family and his country. I love him.

Carrie – she married Marshall the boy wonder and she understood him when nobody else did. Good for her!

Sloane – like Sydney and Jack, I never wanted to believe he was all bad. When he killed Nadia, that was the end for me. I hope he dies. He did. By Syd. Well done.

Weiss – I miss him, period. Nobody does one liners like Eric.

Sark – can take him or leave him, really. Man whore.

Will – as my friends know, I never really had any patience for Will. But as long as he stays in the Witness Protection Program, he’s good by me. Plus I saw him in person on Paradise Island (the Bahamas) – someone remind me to do a blog on my Ocean Club trip the weekend Jason Priestly got married!
Francie – RIP – loved you in flashbacks tonight.

Danny – without you gone, there would be no Syd and Vaughn.

Anna Espinosa – a formidable opponent but no match for Syd.

Dixon – he lost his beloved wife, he has his kids. He’s Syd’s partner and he’s the best.

Lauren – DING DONG THE WITCH HAS BEEN DEAD SINCE SEASON WHENEVER. Who cares? She’s gone.

Rachel – I hated her when she came on the show. I resented her for trying to be Sydney. She’s come along. I kinda dig her now.

Tom – whatever. (sorry)

Peyton – bitch. And to think snakes did her in. LOL.

Rambaldi – a prophet or a madman? Will we ever know?

Jack – Spy Daddy. I love him. He was cold as ice and then he warmed up. Since Isabelle, he’s amazing. He raised Sydney didn’t he? He’s the loss that’s hardest to bear in the finale.

Irina – Spy Mommy. Electrifying. Any episode she’s on, she ups the ante, ups the electricity, every sentence and word she speaks, counts. I don’t know who’s side she’s on maybe only her own but a part of me wanted desperately to believe she loved Syd and Jack. But alas …

Vaughn – a man not afraid to stand with or behind a strong woman. To me, he is the epitome of the word HERO.

Isabelle – so glad your daddy lived to see you.

JJ Abrams – Genius. Still so many questions only a writer would ask, like: Did he plan Lauren? Or did he lose interest in the season Syd lost her memory?

Thank you to the Vartan Ho’s for making Alias a memorable experience:

Okay, I’m writing this in the brief hour of free time I have between all the graduation excitement going on at my house this weekend. My oldest daughter graduates (actually, by the time you read this, she will have graduated: whimper!) from high school Saturday. I can’t believe it, my silly, sweet little girl is a beautiful young woman.

Anyway, there are a million things to do, and I was afraid I’d forget to write this blog if I put it off, so this is going to be a quick one. I decided to just let you peek into my weird mania as I ask the questions that are always flitting around in my brain. I call this my “why” list (and it grows all the time…)

Why is it that the one time the UPS guy is a hottie, I answer the door wearing a grass-stained T-shirt, shorts with a hole in them, last night’s mascara under my eyes and no bra?

Why, I wonder, am I always either behind a ninety-year-old doing twenty on the interstate or in front of a twenty year old doing ninety on the interstate?

Why do what I consider single-serving bags of Doritos say they provide 2.5 servings? (Or, at certain times of the month, 7.5?)

Why does my husband put up with me?

Why must the yard guys show up to cut the next door neighbor’s lawn at 7:30 on a Saturday morning and weed-eat the same patch of ground right outside my bedroom window for four hours?

Why does skim milk expire so long before the expiration date…and why don’t I ever figure out it has expired before I pour it on my cereal?

Why doesn’t healthy food taste like chocolate and junk food taste like Brussels sprouts?

If they can make computers the size of my palm, why can’t anyone invent a machine that will automatically iron all my husband’s shirts?

Why do I have 53 odd socks in a bag in my closet…do they multiply in there? And why do I bother saving them when there’s no chance I’ll ever find that other pink and blue striped one that my youngest wore when she was four…which wouldn’t fit now, anyway?

Why does the feel of a fuzzy little dog curled up by my side make me forget why I’m crying?

Why can I remember the sound of my late mother’s laughter after sixteen years…but I cannot remember where I put my car keys yesterday?

Why are there so many Baldwins?

Why do frogs find it necessary to leap out at me, land on my head when I’m walking in the front door, or sit waiting for me on the toilet seat in the middle of the night?

Why am I so damn scared of snakes?

Why does it take me a month worth of strict dieting, exercise, deprivation and anxiety to lose five pounds…but it only takes one weekend of pizza and chips to gain it?

And the one that’s been most on my mind this graduation weekend…

Why, God, did my babies grow up so fast?

Any “why’s” on your list?