Thanks for voting

We appreciate all who took the time to weigh in on our choosing the best line for Center Court Seats and a Pair of Jimmy Choos--a story about two sisters, one bet and a mix of heartache and laughter along the way, causing them to ask, "If you can't trust your sister, can you trust anyone?"

The results proved the clear winner as: She loved a man who could appreciate a new pair of shoes, even if she thought he might like to try them on himself.

Hopefully it won't be too long before someone picks up the story, publishes it and you can read all 90,000 words of the book!

Thanks again for voting!

Which line do you like best?

Joan and I are trying to choose our favorite line from our story, Center Court Seats and a Pair of Jimmy Choos. Some of our favorite parts of the book involve dialog between two characters, but an agent we are querying asks for us to list our one, favorite line. It's a little like choosing your favorite child. Or your favorite dessert. So, how about helping us out. To the left is a poll. We've narrowed it down to five lines. Please take the time to vote for your favorite. And while you're at it, forward the post to your friends and ask them to vote too. Thanks!

Friday Night Lights

I watch very little television, and if it weren’t for DVR, I’d watch practically none. But one show I never miss is Friday Night Lights. Now nearing the end of its third season, this amazingly well-written show almost didn’t make it on this year but loyal fans—including someone at DirectTV—managed to revive it for another season. I couldn’t be happier.

Loosely based on the movie (which was based on the novel) and set in fictional small town Dillon, Texas, the show sports an ensemble cast of actors you’ve probably never seen before but who work so well together. Along with being perfectly cast, it’s also the best written show by far. With characters you care about and relevant subject matter, it’s become a great show for me to watch with my teenage sons. Last week’s episode included teenage sex and every episode shows teens drinking. They don’t preach about it or condone it, but the shows open up great dialog between me and my boys. And there’s just enough high school football in it to tie in to the movie/book.

If you don’t watch it, you can see full episodes on Hulu.com or rent the videos. I think you’ll agree that it’s great television.

Monday musing

I just returned home from my annual girls' weekend extraordinaire. While bragging to my daughter about how much fun St. Louis was, she asked, "Can we go to St. Louis on vacation?" I told her sure, forgetting that today was the first day of Spring Break. "Well, we're on vacation now," she said. "Why can't we go today?" I thought for a second and said, "Not today. Maybe some time this summer." After a short pause, she said, "Dammit." I'm guessing someone watched a little too much (inappropriate) television while I was gone.

Teaser Tuesday

Two weeks ago Jamie Ford came to the Crow in Dallas to share his new book. Not long ago Jamie was a writer of short stories, trying to find an agent for his first manuscript. Today his debut novel Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet is a NY Times bestseller. Julie and Joan were able to hear Jamie talk about his novel at the Crow, and Joan picked up a copy of his book for me, which he autographed.

Here's a Tuesday Teaser of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet:

As she slowly turned toward Henry, he noticed her slender cheekbones, her perfect skin, smooth and lacking in the freckles that mottled the faces of the other girls at the school. But most of all he noticed her chestnut-brown eyes. For a brief moment Henry swore he smelled something, like jasmine, sweet and mysterious, lost in the greasy odors of the kitchen. (page 19)

Monday musing

This weekend as we were traveling on a really high overpass, my daughter looked out her car window and said, "I love these highways. I feel like I'm God--God on a roller coaster."

Things not to do when you're operating on four hours' sleep

1. Work the book fair at the elementary school. The children were precious. The other moms...not so much. I guess since I don't belong to the laminated-ID volunteer crowd and wear the stick-on Visitor's badge, it's clear I'm not up there as often as the paid staff. Sorry. I have a job and a life.

2. Blog about volunteering at the elementary school.

3. Pluck my eyebrows. They look a bit uneven.

4. Drive long distances. Oops. Have to. My son has a soccer game after school.

5. Interview a client for a story. It's so hard to act interested when all you really want to do is take a nap.

6. Let my child feed the dog unsupervised. I had to clean up a trail of Kibble she laid out for him beginning at the stair landing and ending up at his bowl in the kitchen.

Car Talk

Of course it’s well-known and at times well-documented that the best conversations with my kids take place in the car.

Last week we had a discussion (prompted by the morning drive-time radio show) about what we should give up for Lent. I mused about previous years:

Me: So far I’ve given up chocolate, tea and soda. Not sure what I should give up this year…
Jacob: I’m not giving up anything. Jesus already died so I don’t have to give up stuff.
Ben: I’m giving up soda. And candy.
Me: (thinking of my future lower dental bills) Good idea, Ben.
Jacob: (to me) Why don’t you give up reading?
Danny: (apparently half-listening) Then she’ll turn blue and pass out.
Me: He said reading, not breathing. (But really, for me, pretty much the same thing.) Maybe I’ll give up fast food. Or Coke. Or just Coke at Sonic.

As a side note: I’ve given up fast food. And don’t miss it one bit. Except for Saturday when I bought Ben Chick-fil-A for breakfast after his soccer game. The chicken minis were calling for me…



Last night on the way to Jacob’s guitar lesson, then to Ben’s baseball practice. Someone brought up The Vagina Monologues.

Me: Oh, one of Joan’s relatives invited her to a performance in Dallas this week.
Jacob: Have you been to one?
Me: No and the funny thing is, Joan’s son Austin responded Yes to the RSVP.
Jacob: Austin wanted to go? Does he even know what a vagina is?
Me: He’s your age. I’m pretty sure he does.
Jacob: What are The Vagina Monologues?
Me: It’s just some woman sitting on a stage talking about woman stuff, I guess.
Ben: (finally commenting from the back seat—in his best ‘vagina voice’) Hello. It’s me. I’m itchy.

Remind me to check my insurance policy. I’m not sure I should be driving with my children in the car anymore.