I Heart NY (even if the quest to find the perfect apartment is kicking my butt)

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion.

--E.B. White, Here is New York

Yes, I'm still alive...

...I just haven't written here for - oh - over a MONTH.

It's been super busy. All good stuff, but I have now officially become one of those New Yorkers who doesn't have time to breathe and rushes around the city and thinks about what it'll be like when I finally have that house in the country that I can go to on the weekends so I actually can breathe.

London was fantastic (can't believe that was almost a month ago!). Great weather, great company, great food.

And now I'm back, with a new obsession which is looking for an apartment for September. I've found one that I love. Click here to read Ariel's column on how I've been going about it. (I am - and will forever be - Sophie in her columns. Although sometimes I am also Heather, which makes me feel like I suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder).

Also, this essay entitled "I'm Y.A. and I'm Okay" appeared in last week's NY Times Book Review about the prejudice against YA vs. "real" novelists. I especially love Mark Haddon's quote. As for me, I definitely get a lot of sympathetic looks that translate to "Oh, don't worry -- if you work hard enough and really hone your skills, then maybe one day you'll write a real, honest-to-goodness adult novel."

Um, yeah, thanks.

More later. Now it's back to scouring Craig's List for more 250 square foot apartments for $1800 to go see.

Three generations of CINDY readers

I received this a while ago, but I've been remiss in posting it. My bad.

Anyway, when I did a signing at the Barnes & Noble in Huntington Beach, CA, I was lucky enough to meet Fiona and her grandmother Teri, who had both read the book. Unfortunately Fiona's mother Jennifer wasn't feeling well that night, so she wasn't there. I had asked them to send me a picture of the three of them and here it is...along with the emails I received from them.

I feel so lucky to have met them. And I have no doubt we will indeed be reading Fiona's work soon -- I was incredibly impressed by the amount of poise and self-possession she had as a 14-year-old. When I was her age I was slumping down in my seat and hiding behind my hair.

I have to say, I hear a lot of stories from writers who find it absolutely agonizing to have to do readings and deal with real live human beings. Maybe it's because I desperately want to be the center of attention (I do...but then I don't...and then I do...and so on and so on and so on..) but I LOVE meeting the readers. And when I letters like this, it makes all of the struggle and all the hours spent looking at blank computer screens worth it.



Ms. Palmer~ It was amazing to meet you at the Barnes & Noble event in Huntington Beach! I really enjoyed talking with you, hearing about your experiences, and also getting your best friend's side of things. Your advice on book writing was very helpful! I am super excited for your next book to come out next year!!! Hopefully, thanks to your advice, you'll be seeing my work soon.

Sincerely,
Fiona

Ms. Palmer~ My mother and daughter both attended your talk/book signing at our local Barnes & Noble a few weeks ago. They both came back singing your praises! My 14 year old daughter, Fiona, especially, was literally vibrating from the experience. The way you spoke to her, answering all of her questions, the fact that your friend also took the time to tell Fiona what you were like while writing---it truly touched me. Not only have you written a heart-warming, funny, unique book, but to give of your personal time to answer a young starry eyed girl questions, you impress me. Thank you for not shooting down her dream of being a writer and also for not making writing sound like a lark, but a real job! All 3 generations; my mother Teri, myself Jennifer, and my daughter Fiona, loved your book and look forward to all your future work. My 10 year old is chomping at the bit to be allowed to read your book also. Attached is the picture you asked Fiona to send you of the 3 of us. You have all of our permission to use the picture on your website or whatever.

Sincerely,
Jennifer Baumann

A cat on a head is worth...

Okay, maybe it's not worth any money, but it's worth a laugh, which I sorely needed as I walked by this guy this morning.

The day did not start off all that great. In fact, forget great -- it didn't even start off good. In fact, it started off really shitty. But when I saw this guy on Broadway as I was walking to work I took it as a sign that I should just lighten up. Which I did. And I took it as a sign that I should take a picture of him with my BlackBerry. I stalked him for a while, and then as I was taking one more, he whipped around and caught me mid-snap.

Me (trying to pretend I'm not about to take a picture of him): Oh. Can I, uh, take a picture of you?

Him: You know, I really need money to eat.

Me (fishing in wallet for a dollar): Here. I have a dollar. Is that good?

(Like he's going to say "No"?)

Him: That would be great.

So I gave the cathead man a dollar for my picture.

Maybe I should try and train O'Neill to stand on my head. It could help pay for this next round of psychoanalysis that begins tomorrow.

Thou Shalt Not Think (at least not in July)

My friend Terri Wagener who is not only one of the most incredible writers I know and one of my Fairy Godmothers Of Writing, but also beyond wise when it comes to the heart and Relationships-with-a-capital-R posted this on my Facebook page:


Make you a deal. Let's have a pact that we two shall do all in our power to Not Think in the month of July. We think too much. We over analyze. We think it gives us some kind of control/protection in Life. It does not.

We don't have to be superficial till July, though. Which gives us a couple of weeks to note how deeply we are attached to thinking and also to practice skipping along the surface, like smooth stones on a pond.

Are you game? Or do you want to sink below and down like usual? Much like stone trying to find the fresh air and float?

I wrote back and said that, yes, I was indeed game. God, am I game. Because I'm sick of Thinking--especially about Relationships-with-a-capital-R. I asked Terri if that means we can just talk about nail polish and People magazine for an entire month and this was her reply:

Re nail polish and People. NO. We can't talk about those -- it will tempt Fate. We'll have opinions. The point is to just observe life, have no opinion, no desire (Very Buddhist), float above. Kinda act stoned -- but in a good way. Turks & Caicos? And LONDON for the 4th? Your life is magnificent, Robin. It is The Best Ever! By YOUR efforts. Let it BE. :->

So my July resolution is to Not Think And just Let It Be And See What happens.

Maybe I won't even wait til July. Maybe I'll start now.

One (and probably the only) reason I wouldn't mind being in L.A....

If you live in L.A. you should go see the Marlene Dumas exhibit at MOCA because I can't because I live in NY and that way I'll be able to live vicariously through you.

And you should read this article that was in the NY Times magazine last week about her.

What was I thinking...

...using a PC all these years?

It's hard not to wonder what my life would have been like today had I been a Mac user vs. a PC one. Would I have moved to NY sooner? Would I have become a brunette earlier? Would I be married with four kids and living in Des Moines? (um, that one? probably not)

At any rate, I have been Mac-curious for a while now. And every time I'd go to write in a coffee shop, a sea of glowing apples would be shining, their owners happily typing away while I'd be forced to wander around until I found somewhere I could plug in due to the fact that the battery on my PC was only good for an hour. So on Friday I woke up and turned on my laptop only to find the blue screen of death staring back at me which sent a chill through my veins. I called my brother Josh because he works with computers for a living, and when I got his voicemail (it was only 7:30 in the morning) I started freaking out. And started freaking out even more when I took it to a computer place and was told that it would "probably" cost me $700 to recover the data and fix it.

So I went to the Apple store and got myself a brand new white MacBook.

And the two of us lived happily ever after.

I have a feeling it's going to change my entire life.

Okay, maybe not my entire life. Maybe it'll just make it so that now I'll be able to write in a coffee shop without worrying about finding a place to plug in. Which, believe me, is worth every penny I spent.

Needless to say -- life is very, very good today.

Especially since the lovely people at Tekserve were able to recover the 50 pages of my latest novel that I had neglected to back up.