Trashionista

GUEST BLOG: Maureen Johnson

How we love Maureen Johnson. Her new, fabulous, book Suite Scarlett is out now. It's one of my favourites and so I asked Maureen to tell Trashionista readers about *her* favourite books.

I have been asked to talk a little about the books that formed me into the writer I am today - the classics I cut my teeth on. I was going to talk about my love of Fitzgerald, of Hemingway, of T.S. Eliot and Mark Twain and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle . . . all favorites of mine while growing up. 

I'm sure that would have been very interesting to read, but I have instead decided to talk about the more questionable books that hooked my interest for sometimes inexplicable reasons and got me into various forms of trouble.

AGE EIGHT

At age eight, I developed what I now think was a somewhat unhealthy obsession with the Girl Scout Handbook. The Girl Scout Handbook gets updated all the time. The version I had was just a big book full of half-witted projects, written and complied by (I assume) some maniac who lived in a shed. I guess he did it in his breaks between writing long letters to local officials about how the government was using cats and radio waves to spy on him.

I mean, what other kind of person puts together a book for eight-year-old girls that explains how to make a small stove from a tuna fish can? Who else could come up with something called "Campfire Stew," which was basically just a lot of canned meats cooked over inadequate heat (because you were using a tiny stove made from a tuna fish can) in a pot that had many other purposes aside from stewing. Like washing your underwear. 

The book also had a List of Insane Badges, mostly for things eight-year-olds can't do . . . like win chess tournaments, compete in professional figure skating competitions, or hang glide. So after the manual turned you into a dirty hobo, it made you feel inadequate because YOU WERE NEVER, EVER GOING TO GET A BADGE, YOU NON-HANG-GLIDING LOSER.

So it's difficult to explain why I couldn't get enough of this book. I read it until it fell apart. I slept with it at night and woke up with loose pages under the pillows.

It wasn't even like I was into scouting. I was the worst girl scout of all time. Case in point: when given my troop numbers pinned on to a piece of ribbon, I promptly forgot them. I took the numbers off the ribbon and sewed them on to my sash in the completely wrong order. I got to my meeting and they said, "Um, Maureen, you're not in Troop 476. You're in troop 764." I think I only went to four meetings, ever. Then we went on the "field trip" to the local Burger King, and I bailed for good.

But I never tired of that stupid manual. I guess it goes to prove that I'm usually more into the book than the "experience." And I still really want to make that little tuna fish can stove.

AGE THIRTEEN

I went to England for the first time when I was thirteen and blew my tiny stash of cash on albums and books. I sat in the car, praying that my father wouldn't kill us all as he barreled down the wrong side of the road and took roundabouts at two times the allowable speed, listening to music and reading. I was thrilled with the trip, but my parents didn't realize it because all I did was listen to music and read. But that was pretty much my idea of a good time. Still is.

So I'm sitting in the back of the Car of Death, reading the very last pages of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None. If you don't know the book, it's pretty much THE premier whodunit of ever. All of these characters are trapped on an island and get knocked off one by one, until you're down to two, and then one . . . and then the last one . . . well . . . I won't tell you but it's SPINE TINGLING. At least it was when I was thirteen. The mystery seems impossible, and I was just getting to the last five pages, where the whole thing gets explained . . . 

And then we pulled up in front of Stonehenge.

My mom said "Get out of the car!" And I said, "In a minute! I am just getting to the part where they tell you what happens!" Because when you are in the last five pages of And Then There Were None you REALLY HAVE TO READ THEM. 

But then again, my parents had brought me three thousand miles over an ocean to look at these HUGE STONE THINGS, and she didn't care that I desperately, desperately needed to find out who the murderer was. I tried to sneak the book with me, but she saw it and made me leave it in the car. This is the reason I really was paying no attention at Stonehenge whatsoever. I still suspect it's just a joke some English people assembled to lure innocent American tourists, just to see how far we will go to stand in a field and look at rocks.

AGE FIFTEEN

Someone gave me this book called An Old Fashioned Mystery, which was supposedly written by this woman who lived on one of the Thousand Islands and who disappeared right after finishing the manuscript. I got it during an otherwise deadly dull summer, when my father had been transferred to Kentucky. We had to go and visit him. I didn't know anyone in Kentucky, and it was 115 degrees out, so all I did was read for weeks and weeks.

I read this book, I promise you, every single day of that summer, over and over and over again. It's another classic deserted island/people being killed off story, a la And Then There Were None, except kind of weirder and funnier and much more modern. And in the end (yes, I'm going to spoil it because I don't even think you can get this book anymore) . . . all the characters get killed and you find that NONE OF THEM did it. It was the AUTHOR who killed them all. They all meet up in limbo and figure it out, and one of them (my favorite, by far the funniest, still one of my favorite characters ever) makes a really bad pun about the author's name, and as a punishment, the author sends him to HELL, where no one tells any jokes.

My connection to this book was absolutely ridiculous . . . so it's kind of shocking that I actually lent to someone, a friend of our family who was in college. She had it for a few weeks, and I started to jones for it really badly, so I asked for it back. She avoided the question. Thinking back on it, it's very plain how the book met its fate. Things do not last in college. Your drunk friends come to your room and eat your stuff. But I was fifteen and I WANTED MY BOOK BACK and generally haunted her like the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. She panicked and went into hiding.

I went through withdrawal. I writhed. I tried to find another copy somewhere, but it was long out of print, and there was no internet to get another. Finally, when I stopped banging my head against the wall and twitching, I transferred my obsession on to The Great Gatsby . . . and almost immediately, the book was returned. It was clearly a different copy. It had a stamp in the front cover from some used bookstore. Neither of us ever spoke of the matter again, and I have never let the book leave my possession, even though I haven't read it since then. No, you can't have it.

GUEST BLOG: William Coles

William Coles has done the unthinkable and written a love story. And he's been kind enough to write us a guest blog to explain how and why.

A few months ago, I ventured into very dangerous waters. I broke one of the literary world’s biggest taboos. I did something that a guy just isn’t supposed to do.

But - what the hell - I went ahead and did it anyway …

I wrote a love story.

And this, it would seem, is a completely no-no for a man.

Go into any bookshop today, and you will find scores - hundreds - of books about romance. Along with celebrity cook-books, they’re the most popular books going.

I would guess that at least 98 per cent of these romances and these love stories are by women. It’s extraordinary. I don’t know whether it’s because men don’t like reading romances, or whether male writers think that love stories are plain soppy, but women have got a total monopoly on love.

And in a very small way, I’m attempting to break the mold.

The bulk of people who read love stories are women. And there’s now almost a perception that guys can’t do romance. That they won’t be able to get it. That they’ll bodge it up and that the writing won’t be genuine; or that the book will be all laddish and blokey and jokey, as if it’s a transcript of a conversation down at the pub.

Well … as it happens, I love going to the pub with my mates.

And a guy’s perception of love and romance is going to be markedly different from a woman’s.

But I think if that if a book’s voice is true, then it’s got a good chance of working. There are many other things that you need to throw into the mix for a book to become a “Go” - but the authenticity is the key.
A love story by a man is going to have a very different take on romance. It will be another view of love - a strange, possibly curious view of love. But it can still be just as authentic.

Fingers crossed that I succeeded.

My only slight concern about the book was the name. My name. Since women generally like to read books by women, my publisher urged me to have an authorial sex change. That, though, was a bridge too far, and for the moment I’m sticking with William Coles.

Maybe for the second edition we’ll bring it out under the name “Mina Coles” and see if it sells any better.

William’s book “The Well-Tempered Clavier” is published by Legend Press, price £7.99.

You can hear him talk about the book in his two-minute promo on Youtube here. He blogs at www.wcoles.com.

GUEST BLOG: Shauna Reid - Dietgirl!

I don't know anyone who has read Shauna Reid's memoir - The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl - and not loved it, so I was thrilled when she agreed to write a guest blog for us.

Sometimes it’s still hard to believe I’m a proper published author. There’s a dent in the living room ceiling from a champagne cork, popped on the day I signed the deal for The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl, yet apart from that my life looks much the same. I get up, I go to work, I swear at the computer, I come home; I watch University Challenge. 

But then I get to have all these delicious Author Moments. Like skulking around doing interviews. I run home at lunchtime to chat to Spanish radio stations; I yak to Australia in the dead of night. I sneak into empty offices, hoping the boss doesn’t catch me as I tell yet another journalist how I gained all that weight.

“Nutella!” I hiss down the line, “Yes. That's right. I used to eat it with a spoon. S-P-O-O-N!”

Then there’s all the book stalking. I remember the very first sighting – 23rd December, 1PM, face out and snuggled up to Gordon Ramsay’s bio at the local WH Smith. I took photos from five different angles then stood there poking the cover, making sure it wasn’t a mirage.

I’ve managed to curb the habit now, but for weeks I was drawn into every passing bookshop with the same irresistible lure I once felt for the dessert bar at Pizza Hut. My mood soared or slumped depending on whether or not the book was stocked, where it was placed and/or the number of copies. When my publisher told me that ASDA had taken it on, I dragged my husband Gareth around three different stores to witness this first hand. The first two stores didn’t have it, and the third had an empty space on the shelf with a plastic label beneath: Amazing Advents, Shauna Reid.

“They don’t have it!” I whimpered.

“They might have sold out!”

“Or maybe they changed their minds and never got it in the first place!”

“This is a very tumultuous time for you, isn’t it?” said Gareth. “And consequently, for me also.”

Best of all has been the lovely surprise of reader emails. Again, I’ll always remember the first, from Verity in Warwickshire. I nearly wrote back, Mum? Is that you? I couldn’t believe someone had read the book without being nagged by me to do so.

Since then I’ve had warm emails, funny emails and emails so heartbreaking that I drip snot and tears on the keyboard. I’ve even had a few confessions: “OMG, I thought I was the only one who ate Nutella with a spoon!” These are the moments when this Author thing feels so wonderfully real.

More Guest blogs

GUEST BLOG: Sara Morrison

Sara Morrison's essay was one of my favourites in the Gilmore Girls-themed Coffee At Luke's collection. And I'm a huge fan of TV recap site, Television Without Pity, for which she also writes. So I was thrilled when she agreed to write a guest blog for us. Over to Sara...

I read more as a child than I do now. My mother was a children's librarian, which meant easy access and no overdue fines. The books she brought home were my escape from the fears and anxieties that kept me awake every night. Even though we lived in a safe suburban neighborhood in a house filled with working smoke detectors, I still worried that someone would break in or a fire would start while my family and I slept. Reading took my mind off of this and relaxed me enough for sleep to finally overtake me. I liked a lot of different genres, but my favorite was undoubtedly mystery. There was no shortage of mystery books and series for children, although I had discriminating tastes. I didn’t really go for Nancy Drew; at 18, she was too old for me and I always thought it was weird how she had to mention her dead mom in the beginning of every book. The Hardy Boys were lunkheads, and those books were for boys anyway. The Bobbsey Twins looked like pussies, so I skipped right over them. The Boxcar Children were endlessly boring and have the dubious distinction of being one of the only mystery stories I put down without bothering to find out who did it.

It was my father who actually introduced me to what would become my mystery series of choice. He's from England, and on one of our trips there I ran out of reading material and went looking for more books to buy. He introduced me to Enid Blyton, who was the English children's author before J.K. Rowling came along. She wrote many stories, but her most famous and my favorites were the Famous Five series. The Famous Five consisted of four very Englishly-named children: siblings Julian, 12, Dick, 11, and Anne, 10 (apparently their parents had three years of nonstop action, followed by either finally getting the rhythm method down or sleeping in separate beds), their cousin Georgina, 11, and her dog, Timmy (age unknown).

Georgina was my favorite character* because she was the only one with a distinct personality, and one that was very much similar to my own. She was a tomboy and insisted on being called George, cutting her hair short, and wearing boy's clothes. She had a temper and was known to sulk, especially when Julian and Dick deemed a mission too dangerous for her girl self to accompany them on. George loved it when people mistook her for a boy, and who could blame her? The books were written in the forties and fifties, when women were relegated to household chores and skirts. As the lone model of femininity, Anne was always stuck preparing meals and cleaning up when the children went on adventures, always fretting that things were scary and dangerous and bursting into tears at the drop of a hat. Who wanted to be like that? Certainly not me, nor, I suspect, Enid Blyton.

Apparently, in England sixty years ago, it was considered unfashionable to supervise one's children, so the four children and their dog were always free to fall into adventures, whether they be at George's awesome seaside home Kirrin Cottage or on her own private island (which had its own castle!!), or various trips around the country during their frequent school holidays. A good percentage of these adventures involved stumbling upon a smuggling ring, although what goods were being smuggled and why people were still engaged in a rather outdated crime (even for the forties and fifties), usually remained unknown. They were constantly finding secret passages and tunnels. Every house they went to had a network of them! Once, they went to a school friend's house called Smuggler's Top (bet you'll never guess what happened there!) and found a system of underground caverns under the deadly marshes they were allowed to walk around completely unsupervised even though they were warned that one wrong step and the marshes would suck you down forever. My dad used to joke that it was amazing that Enid Blyton's England didn't fall in on itself, being so riddled with tunnels. Kirrin Cottage never sank into the tunnels it stood upon, although a big tree fell on it once during a storm.

The Five never traveled as far as Nancy Drew (who once went to freaking AFRICA on her boyfriend's school trip), but then, they didn't need to. They usually rode their bikes into the countryside where they'd inevitably find a ruined house to stay in and some suspicious persons, most likely unspecified foreigners, who were in the process of committing crimes. The Five only left England once that I can recall, and that was to go to Wales, which was written to seem just as exotic as Nancy Drew's Africa, full of strange-speaking people, snow, mountains, shimmering rainbow clouds, and, of course, wicked foreigners attempting to mine the hills for an unspecified radioactive element to supply to the unspecified enemy.

I longed for such adventures and wanted to be just like the Famous Five. But, alas, there were differences. I didn't have a dog named Timmy, although, by sheer coincidence, my guinea pig was named Timmy. Unless the mysteries involved carrots, though, he'd be more of a liability than an asset. I had no cousins, so I had to make do with my brother and some friends. Unfortunately, our parents were annoyingly watchful and would never dream of allowing us to go off camping in the countryside alone, no matter how many times we asked. Our homes were devoid of secret passages and tunnels. There was a brief excitement when it was discovered that Sarah B. had a crawlspace in her bedroom closet. Sadly, it only lead to her mystery-free attic. Still, my friends and I were always on the lookout for mysteries. If they wouldn't come to us, we'd just have to come to them.

The street I lived on had a few possibilities. There was an old lady who lived in a house surrounded by tall trees. We were sure she had something to hide because she yelled at us every time we got close to her lawn. That also made any investigations rather difficult. There was an old barn at the top of the hill -- the oldest building in the neighborhood -- that was sure to have its share of hidden secrets, hopefully in tunnel form. My friends and I dug up some rocks and searched around, but all we found was an old key that was not accompanied by a map to the hidden treasure it unlocked. There was once a rash of BB gun drive-by shootings on the street. Nighttime attacks claimed two windows and a piece of siding. My next door neighbor and I got right on the case, making a list of suspects (the kid down the street we didn't like at the moment because he was mean; a home remodeling business hoping to get new business from the repairs; the nuns who lived in the convent up the street because we thought they were weird) and planned a stakeout. It never happened; we soon discovered that her bedroom window faced my parents' bedroom window, so in order for us to both watch the street and stay in contact via a phone system made of cups and string (our brothers wouldn't lend us their walkie talkies), I'd have to sneak into my parents' room and sit at their window after they'd gone to bed. There was no way that was going to happen. As it was, the BB gun bandit never struck again. We never found out who it was, either. My money is still on the nuns.

So there would be no adventures at home, but perhaps my brother and I could happen upon one on vacation. While vacations were always fun, the biggest mystery was probably "why didn't the hotel maid replace the towels even though we left them on the bathroom floor as instructed?" Even England, home of the Famous Five, had nothing to offer. My grandparent's house didn't even have a basement, let alone a secret passage. Much to my bitter disappointment, they certainly didn't live in a cottage by the sea with its own island. Talking with the neighborhood kids revealed that the only suspicious person on the block was actually my grandmother, who refused to let kids retrieve any balls they'd accidentally hit into her yard. This did, however, solve the mystery of where that garbage barrel full of tennis balls in their garage came from.

And so, my life progressed, mystery-free. As an adult, I sometimes re-read my old Famous Five books, but things have changed. Where I was once envious of the kids and their incredible adventures and lack of adult supervision, I now wonder why no one ever bothered to call Child Welfare on those kids' parents for neglect. I think of how very lucky they were not to encounter a suspicious man with intentions far more evil than bringing unspecified goods into the country, all too pleased to see four small children all alone to prey upon.

But the way I've changed the most is that I now realize that Anne, once my least favorite character, was right all along. When the other kids were jumping into ancient dungeons, ruined houses, and recently surfaced shipwrecks, Anne was begging them to let her stay behind, back in the cave or whatever other random shelter they'd happened upon because she was too scared to go where the action was. I used to think she was a wet blanket and symbol of everything I hated about having to be a girl. Now I think she was the only one in that group who had any sense.

I guess that's what happens when you grow up; your childhood fearlessness, drawn from ignorance and innocence about what could go wrong, turns into worry about all the bad things you now know are possible. And maybe that works in the reverse as well; the nightly fears of burglary and fire that dominated my childhood have long since disappeared, even though the things that used to keep me up at night are much more real now than they ever were then. There's no point in waiting for mysteries to come to you just like there's no point in keeping yourself up at night worrying about something that might never happen, and wouldn't be the end of the world if it did. When I'm not up all night freaking out about how I'm going to pay the rent next month, I sleep just fine.

Thanks, Sara!

*read more about Georgina by our regular writer, Helen Redfern.

GUEST BLOG: Lola Jaye

Lola Jaye's monthly blog on the road to publication of her debut novel...

NEWSFLASH! NEWSFLASH!

The cover for my book has been approved… so here it is…

Lots of flowers, yes and just a hint of pink.

Feel free to say what you think … I won’t mind … much.

Readers of this blog will know that I’ve actually had time to get used to the cover over the last few months as well as my strange inability to be objective about it. I know this has something to do with not being able to get past my name being on something other than an envelope, but I am able to extract the following opinions:

* It stands out
* It’s different
* I don’t ever remember seeing a green book on my book shelf before

All positive, I say!

So what else has happened this month? Well, I’ve had lots of ‘gormlessly looking at the computer screen moments’. Trawling my website guestbook (www.lolajaye.com) for new entries – a superb procrastinating technique – with other days spent ignoring the phone and writing like a maniac. Just another weird/manic/wonderful month as a writer, then!

I’ve also been having those ‘this time last year I didn’t have a publishing contract,’ moments. And yes, I’m glad to say that the experience still feels very fresh, exciting and at some times unreal. But I had to smile the other day when I looked over some of my old blog entries and my reactions to finding out I was at last, going to be published...

Also this month, I went along to an author networking event. Not usually the archetypal wallflower at parties (I’ve been known to be the first on the dance floor and ‘getting on down’ like a demented pigeon) but that night, I shrank into the corner with my glass of elderflower not quite knowing where to look. Why? For a start, instead of a room full of potential dance partners/boyfriends, this was a space full of AUTHORS from ALL disciplines (academic to aviation) which basically allowed me to become all shy and quite mute. I know! Me?

However, I was soon cornered by an array of enthusiastic novelists, plus a poet who annoyed me by suggesting I was ‘young’. No, let me rephrase. Within the context of say, a beauty pageant or spelling bee, this comment would be welcome, but I felt as if she was implying that my journey to publication had been a quick one! Hmm… perhaps I should have alerted her to my first blog? Anyway I managed to down another glass of Elderflower juice, before legging it into the pouring lane, getting lost en route to the station and landing home in time for a good nights rest.

Whatta party animal!

This month also had me sat in a meeting with my publishers. All proper and important, like. You see, I always get excited when I go to publisher HQ because its one of the few moments in time I get to feel like a real writer. People interacting with me as a soon to be published author and not a counsellor and that’s really, really nice. One of my many highlights was sitting in a room only recently vacated by Michael Crichton – HELLO! – and standing in front of a multi tier book shelf and being told I could take whatever books I wanted. Now, that was more than nice. A sort of supermarket sweep for books. Amongst my haul was Tony Parsons' new one, Tracey Chevalier's first one and all but a few of Cecelia Ahern’s entire back catalogue!

So, another month shuffles to an end and I am another step closer to my July 1st publication date…

So until next month…

By The Time You Read This… Lola Jaye (Harper) is out 1st July 2008
(Seriously? Yeah, really, it is… Joking, right..? No it is!)

GUEST BLOG: Robin Gerber

I'm so excited about this book *and* this guest blog!

Robin Gerber's Eleanor Vs. Ike is a novel featuring real historical characters, which I know some of you aren't sure about, but just listen to the premise: it's 1952 and Eleanor Roosevelt is running against Dwight D. Eisenhower for President. Will she win?

If you can resist that, you're a better woman than me.

Carry on over the cut for a guest blog by Robin Gerber and the chance to cast your vote on gripping issues to win one of the three copies to give away!

Over to Robin...

For the first time in American history, a woman is the Democratic Party's candidate for President of the United States. This might happen in 2008, but in my novel, Eleanor vs. Ike, it happens in 1952 and the woman is Eleanor Roosevelt. Welcome to my fantasy!

There were a lot of parallels between 1952 and today. In 1952, America was caught up in a war in Korea that the public hated and wanted to end. There was fear of foreign infiltration by Communists, and civil liberties were curtailed because of that fear. The incumbent President, Harry Truman, wasn't running for reelection. There was an open primary with fierce competition for the Democratic and Republican nomination. And, similar to the looming fight over the Michigan and Florida Democratic delegates today, the Democratic nomination in 1952 came down to a fight over seating delegates. In the end, none of the candidates who ran in the primary got the nomination. Instead, Governor Adlai Stevenson was drafted to run at the Democratic Convention.

So, watch out! If the Democrats go to the Convention still fighting over Hillary or Barack, all bets are off. It's even possible that someone else could get the nomination. Perhaps Al Gore?

Of course, if Hillary Clinton pulls it off (and the odds are against her now), a former First Lady would be running against a respected military man, just like Eleanor vs. Ike. In the midst of war, could a woman be a credible enough Commander-in-Chief? In Eleanor's case, she had traveled the world, especially during WWII, visiting the troops and foreign leaders. She had fully supported Truman's decision to end the war by dropping the hydrogen bombs on Japanese cities, and had backed his decisions in Korea. But I doubt that would have been enough against Ike, the heroic General of WWII. In the book, Eleanor confronts this problem by saying she would make Ike her Secretary of Defense should she win the presidency.

I don't think Hillary Clinton would have to reach out to John McCain, as Eleanor does to Ike. Clinton has experience on the Armed Services Committee, is well-respected by military leaders and has had extensive foreign policy experience from her years as First Lady. Still, if U.S. security is threatened, especially by another attack on home soil, she will struggle with McCain's background as a war hero and leader.

I don't want to give away the ending of "Eleanor vs. Ike," but I will say that it's an exciting race, with lots of twists and turns, and an outcome that's hard to guess --  much like the Presidential race this year!

For the chance to win one of three copies of Eleanor vs. Ike, simply vote in one of the following two polls (created by Robin) and then leave a comment (don't forget to include your email address so we can tell you if you've won.

Everyone is free to vote and comment (we'd love to hear your thoughts!), but I'm afraid only US entrants can win a book.

POLL QUESTIONS

more at twiigs.com...

more at twiigs.com...

GUEST BLOG: Miss Couturable

I discovered 17-year-old budding fashionista Noel's wonderful blog when she wrote a post about chick lit. I asked her to expand on it for Trashionista readers. Enjoy!  

‘Don’t you see? That Birkin gave her a reason to live! You simply cannot kill yourself with you’re that close [to being first on the waiting list for the Birkin]…it’s just not an option.’ […] Elisa looked positively radiant from her retelling of the story, as though it had inspired her to live her own life to the fullest. I thanked her for educating me in the ways of the Birkin and wondered what, exactly, I had gotten myself into.”

As I finished this passage from Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger (author of The Devil Wears Prada), I also wondered what I had gotten myself into. The formula for this novel is pervasive among other bestseller works of chick lit, from The Nanny Diaries by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus to Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes: An intelligent and gorgeous girl lands herself in a career that is completely unfulfilling, canoodles with dozens of shallow metrosexual men before she meets her handsome down-to-earth soulmate, and finally discovers and gets what she truly wants in life (which luckily for her always includes great sex with her rugged soulmate).

The formula is predictable – and yet, I’m enraptured by every single novel that these glamorous socialite authors churn out. I used to think chick lit was extremely shallow literature, but I’ve discovered that many of the books in the chick lit genre are cleverly written social satires. Sometimes I wonder if in a century from now, high school and college English classes would be teaching 21st century social satire with excerpts from works by Candace Bushnell or Sophie Kinsella. Chick lit authors present a not-too-exaggerated view of our modern materialistic world and balance it with fairy tale devices to please our hearts.

Admit it, you’re fascinated by the idea that fashion editors are 4-inch stiletto glamazons who dedicate half their lives to making the “little people” so miserable and by the crazy antics of New York City socialites who celebrate their divorces in Pucci swimsuits on “divorce honeymoons”. You’re also emotionally attached to the fabulous protagonist, who is just as glamorous as her shallow counterparts. You’re probably also jealous that the protagonist’s soulmate also happens to be your dream guy.

Chick lit authors know there is truth within the slight exaggerations that they make – they portray the publicist that is dressed to the nines and the Upper East Side mom with the Chanel clutch as shallow products of American frivolity that we openly scoff at – but will guiltily digest the next novel for. Even if all of us could scrutinize society so clearly and precisely as Sophie Kinsella or Plum Sykes could, most of us still couldn’t make these accounts as entertaining to read as they do.

Ever since Noel was 6-years-old, she's been obsessed with the novel, A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett -- and she still believes that every girl is a princess, no matter if she's in rags or the latest Chanel minidress. She loves fashion and cannot imagine life without costume, and hopes to become the editor-in-chief of a respectable and innovative fashion magazine someday. She's obsessed with chick lit and dreams of writing her own novel in the future -- but right now she just wants to maintain an A in her Honors American Literature class.

GUEST BLOG: Lola Jaye

Lola Jaye's monthly blog on the road to publication...

Babble alert: So the first uncorrected proofs have arrived. And they actually look like REAL BOOKS. You know, with a back, front, middle, printed pages, picture on the back; basically REAL BOOKS!

They arrived at my place of work wrapped in a HUGE package. Savouring the moment as I opened them up, I smelt them and basked in the experience of seeing my first ever… book.

Okay, this is what really happened: I ripped open the package in front of a startled receptionist and couldn’t actually catch my breath as I set eyes on them for the first time. The receptionist asked what they were and I just said, "These are my books!!! Sort of."

"Wow!" she said. (Yet another person, I hadn’t yet told…). And she wanted to talk. Whilst I just needed to bask in ‘the moment’. Alone. So I finally went in search of a quiet corner. A bit tough as the office was packed and the corridor was full of workmen refurbishing the building.

Where to go?

I finally ended up in the staff toilets (hey, its private, there) where I was fully able to embrace my happiness, flick through and smell the pages. By the end of the day, the corner of my eyes began to ache because of all the smiling (and will probably need emergency Botox at some point). 

I still refuse to get attached to the cover, as it’s not been agreed yet, but I have to admit the book’s looking great so far. Very nice. I handed them round to work colleagues like chocolate covered gold, and they swooned, whilst I continued to smile like a madwoman. And because they seemed incapable of not taking overlong peeps at the first few pages, I allotted a two minute ‘look per person’ because, as I kept reminding: “You have to wait until its published to read it.” (Plus, I need the royalties).

I have an ‘official’ picture (please see above) which will be appearing inside or on the book. Yes, I’m in the ‘pink’ again… I know. Ironically enough, I only embraced my true ‘pinkness’ as I got older – and I don’t think I’m alone in this, am I? Help me out here ladies..!

What else happened this month? My Writers News magazine piece has now been put online and you can read it here.

I also now have a Facebook page so feel free to add me as a friend (uh oh, this feels like being at school again…).

I’ve also been hard at work on the new book and that heady exciting stage of wondering if what I’ve written is complete tosh, has hit me again … Oh the joys of being a writer!

Until next month…

By The Time You Read This…  By Lola Jaye (Harper) is out July 2008, £6.99 (eek!).

Read Lola's previous entries: November | December | January

BEST OF 2007 GUEST BLOG: Caroline Smailes

Helen picked Caroline Smailes' In Search of Adam as the best book she'd read in 2007. I loved it too. And Caroline was kind enough to agree to guest blog for us! We're happy...

It happened again yesterday. I went to the school to pick up my three kiddies and I saw a playground mum making a direct route towards me. She’s one of those mums who never normally talks to me, she’s immaculately dressed with perfectly straight hair (no hidden clumps of kink at the back, like mine) and she was almost barging towards me. I found myself sweating.

She boomed at me, “I’ve read your book.”

“Th..th..anks,” I seriously stuttered, her tone told me that there was more.

“I can’t believe that someone like you would write something like that. It just goes to show that you never know what goes on inside someone’s head,” she cackled and then flew away on her broomstick. (I may have exaggerated slightly here).

But, I get this a lot. 

In Search of Adam tackles child abuse, suicide, eating disorders and self harm. Am I selling it to you? All I can say, in an attempt to justify, is that as I write my stories unfold and develop into what I’d consider a true, an honest reaction to events. I can’t create a happily ever after, if that happily ever after will make the plot or story lose integrity. Some readers will find this uncomfortable, some will begin to look at me differently, and others will connect with the narrator, journeying through the novel with her/him. Within In Search of Adam, bad things happen but I tried to write a novel that was layered with so much more then just bad things. I wanted the reader to be left feeling hope, redemption, peace.

Since publication of the hardback, I’ve been overwhelmed by the response. I’ve written something that makes people react in some way. I’ve been true to myself in producing a story that is grounded in fact, tackling the reality that bad things happen and if we simply ignore the bad things, well it won’t make them go away. 

In the playground, yesterday, I did consider chasing after the playground mum and trying to highlight the fairytale imagery, the religious themes and above all to tell her that her children could be trusted in my care. But I didn’t chase. Instead I stood in the playground, planning out the sex scene that was to be included in my next novel and wondering what the playground gossips would declare of me then.

Sometimes, I really really love writing stories.

Check out Caroline's novella, Disraeli Avenue, which she is offering as a free ebook.

GUEST BLOG: Diane Shipley on Shopdropping

Drop it like it's hot - a guest blog about a new book-related trend by ex-Trashi ed Diane Shipley.

You've heard of citizen journalism, but how do you feel about citizen shelf-stacking?

Shopdropping is the latest book-related trend from across the pond, and now it's starting to catch on here. As anarchist movements go, shopdropping is pretty uncontroversial but it does raise serious points about access to the arts and the homogenisation of culture. Authors and artists are using shopdropping both to raise the profile of their work and to prompt discussion about reduced shopper choice.

But what does shopdropping actually involve?

It's been described as 'reverse shoplifting' and includes anything from musicians surreptitiously sneaking CDs into Starbucks to artists dropping free homemade cards onto stationery store racks. As long as you can look past the whole non-payment angle like a good little anarchist, Shopdropping bypasses the whole 'how do you get a store to stock your product?' dilemma and one of groups who can use it to big advantage is writers. All you need is a sense of humour, a fast pair of feet and the willingness to give away stuff for free.

Self-published or small press authors don't have to wait for Borders to stock their latest masterpiece, they can simply sneak it onto the shelves themselves (adding an explanatory leaflet advertising their actions, naturally.) Avid readers can partake in a mild form of shopdropping too, and are having great fun doing so.
Whether it's popping into the local bookshop before work every day, and turning the Ken Follett face out, or hiding the ubiquitous Dan Brown behind a stack of Pat Barkers, the possibilities are endless, although potentially annoying or baffling to shop staff, of course.

As The New York Times reports, at super-sized book store Powell's in Portland, Oregon, the Christian faithful have been inserting church flyers into science books while atheists have retaliated by relocating Bibles to the science fiction section. Meanwhile, one book shop in Ohio has been so overcome by the volume of shopdropped work, they've given in and started to sell it. So this type of self-promotion (or promotion of an author you adore) can work.

But do you dare try it? I admit, if I see a book I love looking lonely and unloved, I'll pull out the spine a little, maybe even place it more prominently on the shelf. I consider it a public service. (You're welcome, Elinor Lipman). And at my local Waterstones this weekend, a fellow shopdropper (clearly a Russell Brand fan) had gone to work in a big way: all the books in the biography shelves were camouflaged by row after row of My Booky Wook. I find it hard to believe shop staff would be so audacious which leads me to believe shopdropping is taking off - in South Yorkshire, at least. Still, it begs the question:

Which book do you think most deserves to be shopdropped in this way. and why?

GUEST BLOG: Lola Jaye

Lola Jaye's monthly blog on the road to publication...

New Year… New Book

12.15 am. January 1st 2007

It suddenly dawns on me that my book is coming out THIS YEAR!

MY BOOK’S COMING OUT THIS YEAR!!!!!

Deep breath, deep breath.

Before I had a chance to launch into hyperventilate mode, I found myself in the living room where I proceeded to scream out in loud, unadulterated joy. So loud in fact, I gave myself titinus in the process – I’m very serious! Months of pent up ‘stuff’ finally making an appearance during the first hour of 2008.

The reality of it all. The happiness. The joy.

Then I was calm again.

So… what have I been up to book wise since the last post? Well, as my Unpublished Author tag diminishes by the day, my new author website www.lolajaye.com is up (hurrah!!!) running and looking very pink, out there in cybercity. I’ve included brand spanking new interviews with a few authors like Tess Gerritsen and Adele Parks; where I get them to answer mildly intelligent questions such as ‘If you were wallpaper, what pattern would you be?’ Seeing is believing, so log on! And do sign up for my newsletter too – so I can send you updates about the book. There’s also a new Blog www.lolajaye.com/blog whilst my unpublished author Blog is still up.

Having been a subscriber of Writers News for a few years now, it was nice to be included in this month’s publication. Plus, I also met up and had dinner with the writer Sam Mills, author of The Last Days of England (William Heinemann – due out October 2008). I wanted to get the low-down on what it felt like to be a published author and Sam was rather helpful in her ‘advice’ (especially the bit about launch parties!). I think it’s nice to pick the brains of other writers as they’re able to dish the low-down on what life could feel like as a published author (which for me at the moment seems to be lots of screaming at midnight).

Okay, I’ve left the BIGGEST news till last.

I saw the cover of my new book.

Okay, the ‘maybe’ cover.

My Editor sent it over by courier. Asked me for my opinion.

“Well?” she asked with bated breath (not really).

“Erm…” Okay, okay, I just couldn’t get past the fact that my name WAS ON THE FRONT OF A BOOK (even if it was only a print out).

It had a back and everything! It looked so… real. And knowing I’d written some of the blurb in my lounge probably sat in front of some reality TV programme, felt even more surreal. Of course, I’d be tempted to give you a sneaky look, but I don’t want to get too attached to this cover until I know it’s been agreed by all – which will hopefully be in the next month or so.

So, until then…

By The Time You Read This (Harper Collins) By Lola Jaye is out July 2008 (yes, it’s been put forward!!!!).

GUEST BLOG: Megan Crane's favourite reads of 2007

Megan Crane's Frenemies was one of my favourite reads of 2007 so I asked Megan about hers...

Dark Lover by JR Ward

I resisted this book for a long time. I thought the names were silly and enough already with the vampires. Except... then the book sucked me in and turned me into a ravenous fangirl, unable to stop reading. I stayed up late into the night more than once as I consumed each book in this series, and I bet you will too. If you happen to have a lot of extra time on your hands to lose yourself completely in this otherworld - because you will lose yourself, I promise! - go pick up all five books today.  [Angela loved Lover Revealed too - Keris]

Nearlyweds by Beth Kendrick

I just love Beth Kendrick's books. This one I gulped down in one sitting - on an airplane, if I'm not mistaken - and like all of her books, this one had me laughing out loud and thus humiliating myself in a public place. Thanks for that, Beth. I really liked this tale of weddings that weren't quite legal and marriages that therefore got a hard second look. 

Between Georgia by Joshilyn Jackson

Joshilyn Jackson never ceases to amaze me. It's the turn of her phrase. That unexpected adjective where you least suspect it, or the perfect - if strange - description that shimmers in your mind long after you turn the page. She's wonderful. This book is wonderful, too.

The Rest Falls Away by Colleen Gleason

Someone told me (or I read somewhere - I wander the internet all day and call it "research," what can I tell you) that this was essentially Buffy in Regency England. You could tell me that something was Buffy in a garbage disposal, and I would read it. That is how much of a Buffy fanatic I am. (And by the way, I'm loving the Season Eight comics!) But the Gardella Chronicles are so much more, and very much their own world. Victoria is of her time, and must make impossible choices, all while battling the forces of darkness in appropriate Society clothes. Delicious.

The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

I read the teaser for the first book in this series while sitting in a crowded author event in Atlanta, became breathless, and ordered the book at once. This second book in the series is, if possible, even hotter than the first. But aside from the considerable heat, the characters in this book are what make it so good. I ached for Harry Pye and the lady George. How could they possibly make it work while from different classes??

The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes by Jennifer Crusie, Eileen Dreyer, and Anne Stuart

I assumed this would be good, but suffer from too-many-cooks-in-the-kitchen syndrome, since it's one continuous narrative and not an anthology. Shows you what I know. I found this book fun, seamless, and a very good read. I loved the sisters and their true loves, manipulated into place by their evil aunt. I wish there were more books by this trio to read!

Demon Angel by Meljean Brook

Here's the sort of book this is: I was actively angry when something - like, say, my life - interrupted my reading of this book, and yet it was so fantastic and epic and complicated and marvelous that I was afraid I'd read it too quickly. It was over much too soon.

The Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club by Jessica Morrison

What happens when you cast your life aside on a whim (or upon losing your job, apartment, and fiance all at once)? You move to Buenos Aires, of course. And this delightful gem of a book is all about what happens next. I was riveted. [Also recommended by Lani Diane Rich - Keris]

Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr

This book thrilled me. Evil fairies, hot boyfriends, steel, magic, and menace.

Odd Mom Out by Jane Porter

I stayed up half the night to find out what would happen between fiercely independent Marta and the never-so-hot-rich-or-single-in-real-life Luke. Then I sent this book to everyone I know who has ever felt like an outcast, separated somehow from the other mothers at the playground or at the kids' school. By which I mean, every mother I know. What a great book!

2008 is already shaping up to be a great year for books, too - there's Joanna Bourne's debut novel, Liza Palmer's fantastic sophomore effort, Jane Porter's spellbinding follow-up to Odd Mom Out, and oh yes, my newest book, Names My Sisters Call Me. Happy Reading!

GUEST BLOG: The Overnight Fame of Steffi McBride

By Linda Jones

Renowned ghostwriter Andrew Crofts is the latest convert to the marketing power of YouTube, with this trailer for a novel that’s not due out until September.

Andrew is best known for his mega-selling real-life tales of betrayal and redemption so The Overnight Fame of Steffi McBride is something of a departure for him.

He says he hopes the book will appeal to women, and has kept the promotional video a family affair, with his step daughter, drama student Olivia Grodd, taking the starring role.

Andrew jokes that he hopes the video will also help further Olivia’s career.

He adds: “The book is written as the memoir of a young soap star who becomes a national icon. All Steffi’s dreams come true when she lands a starring part in the country’s biggest soap opera, has a number one Christmas single and wins a Bafta. The whole country falls in love with her, including the pop star she had a crush on all through her teenage years.

“But someone out there knows a secret about Steffi’s past and heartless media revelations blow apart everything she ever believed to be true about her family and about herself.

"I've been thinking for years that publishers and authors need to find a way to promote books visually, just like MTV provided the recording industry with a whole new way of reaching potential fans, a whole new way of bringing songs and music to life. 

"It seems to me that the internet and sites such as YouTube can do just as much for authors as they can for pop groups. It's also the same principle as creating trailers for feature films, whetting the potential audience's appetite."

Of the novel itself, Andrew says: "One of the central themes is the mother daughter relationship and the dynamics of a woman who gives up her child in a pursuit of fame and fortune."

With this in mind, watching the trailer and seeing such a self-composed and attractive woman talking about her big-break, I found it hard not to draw parallels with the unfolding tragedy of Britney Spears. 

Andrew agrees there may be comparisons to be made, but says that the plot of the book is quite different to the shocking reality of Britney's situation.

Related posts: Pa-pa pahhhhh...pa! | Sara's Face | Hollywood Car Wash review

BEST OF 2007 GUEST BLOG: Meg Cabot

I've mentioned my love of Meg Cabot many, many times, so I won't again, but after choosing Jinx as one of my favourite books of 2007, I asked Meg to do a guest blog and she said yes! Squee! So I'll hand you over to Meg and go and have a lie down in a dark room to recover from all the excitement...

(Oh and check back next week for the chance to win one of five copies of the latest in the Princess Diaries series, To the Nines.)

The weird thing about the series of books I write in the form of diaries about the princess of a made-up principality is that—well, they really are based on my own teenaged diaries and experiences.  Except the princess part, obviously…

In the latest and penultimate installment of the books, To The Nines, Princess Mia deals with something I dealt with in high school--a bad break up and the really crushing depression that followed (oh, and she finds out an ancestress of hers might have declared her country a democracy four hundred years earlier, meaning Mia might never get to rule after all).

Adolescence is tough!

But the truth is, my depression was preceded more by my astonishingly bad SAT scores and my decision sciences professor father’s despair over them.  My dad was convinced I was going to be a complete failure in life.  I believe the words, “Lifetime hostess position seating people at Pizza Hut, because she can’t even count back change,” were spoken.

It is to my everlasting chagrin that he died before I ever got published and proved him wrong.

Now people who knew him tell me he would have been proud of me…but would he ever have read any of my books?  They’re awfully girlie and pink for a guy who wrote computer programs.

Still, I like to think that he would have seen that the girlie pinkness is the “spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine”—i.e. the important message about female empowerment with which I imbue each and every one of my books—“go down.”

In other words, yeah, I did flunk Algebra--twice.  But that doesn’t mean I’m dumb!  It just means, like Princess Mia, I’m talented in other areas than my father was—and I’m trying, in my own way, to make a difference in the world!

That’s nothing to get depressed over, as Mia finds out in To The Nines.  It’s actually something to celebrate….

And the fact is, you can do anything if you have enough motivation. Even Algebra. As I found out when I got out of college and landed a job where I had to do payroll. I just  stayed late after work with my calculator until I got it exactly right…because otherwise my employees would have kicked  my butt!

Like Mia says, in To The Nines—“Do one thing every day that frightens you. And never think that you can’t make a difference. Even if you’re only sixteen, and everyone is telling you that you’re just a silly teenaged girl—don’t let them push you away.  Remember the other thing Eleanor Roosevelt said: No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

BEST OF 2007 GUEST BLOG: Lucy Diamond

Lucy Diamond's Any Way You Want Me was one of my favourite books of last year, so I'm thrilled she's agreed to write a guest blog for us. Over to Lucy...

The thing no-one tells you about becoming a published author is that everyone – truly everyone – thinks your novel is a true story. All about you. My first novel, Any Way You Want Me, was published last year and is about the outrageous behaviour of a desperate housewife, who tries to spice up her life with a few choice fibs, even throwing in a raunchy affair for good measure. 

Now in real life, I am about the worst liar you can think of, hopeless even at bluffing in poker and very happy with my lot, thank you very much. But you should have seen the raised eyebrows in the playground where my kids go to school, once the other mums started reading the book. Not only eyebrows. Nudges and knowing looks, too. For about five minutes, I felt dead famous. They’re all looking me! It’s cos I’m an author, innit?!

Then the penny dropped. Oh my God. Wrong! All the playground mums were looking at me in that way because they thought I had done all those things in the book. They all believed this was some kind of confessional memoir of my (supposed) slapperish misdeeds! Even friends tended to sidle up and give me shifty looks. The braver ones would ask outright. “So…was it true, then? Something you haven’t told us, eh?” 

I started to get defensive about it. Very defensive. “What, are you seriously asking me if I’ve been going round telling loads of lies and having wild flings? No! Jesus! What kind of person do you think I am, anyway?”

My poor, long-suffering partner got it in the neck too. People actually asked him straight out if I’d cheated on him! “I bet Jane Austen’s bloke never had to put up with this,” he grumbled, as yet another person approached with that telltale inquisitive gleam in their eyes.

“Um…I don’t think Jane Austen ever had a bloke,” I replied meekly.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not bloody surprised!”

Still. I’ve learned now to laugh about it, (through gritted teeth). And my partner and I are getting married this summer, so the speculation hasn’t wrecked our relationship or anything. Mind you, my next novel, Over You, is about a woman whose husband walks out on her. Hmmmm….

Over You will be published by Pan in August 2008. Lucy Diamond blogs at http://beinglucydiamond.blogspot.com

GUEST BLOG: Lola Jaye

Welcome to the second of author Lola Jaye's monthly guest blogs (read the first here) in the run up to the publication of her debut novel, By the Time You Read This...

Lola’s sleigh ride to publication…

(Sorry, couldn’t resist!) It is December after all. Christmas is almost here and it’s freezing outside! Oh and the countdown to publication’s ticking away madly.

When I first announced my book was coming out, there was a collective sigh along with a; “Why does it take so looong to publish a book?’

‘Well, there’s the editing, the book cover, the PR, the Marketing etc etc.’

‘Yes, but why so long?’

However, six months after my ‘announcement’ it’s now; ‘Blimey, Lola, your book’s coming out ruddy soon!’

And excuse the cliché but, doesn’t time fly…?

Since my last scribble for Trashionista: The copy-edited manuscript flew back (literally) from the Copy Editor. After which, I did the amendments and now it’s gone again, only to return in a few weeks time as (drum roll please) a proper book…! Well, sort of. It’ll actually be a ‘mock up’ of how the book will look. You know, pages bound together and everything – the first indication that I’ve actually written a book and not in fact 280 odd pages of A4 text!

More news: I now have a publicist – yes, like, a reeaal one – and she handles all my media stuff daarrling. She also arranged for a rather trendy photographer to come to my flat and take photos for the book jacket along with some ‘publicity’ shots.

And what a fab day that was!

Prancing around outside my home like a ZZ list wannabe celeb (all that posing in the mirror as a kid has seriously come in handy!) and almost freezing my fingernails off in the process. But – to quote a five year old – IT WAS SO MUCH FUN!

I’ve also been working with a web developer on my new website, which still has a tiny way to go before completion… erm… what else...? Oh yeah, I’m still updating my other blog on www.upadiary.blogspot.com so feel free to take a peep. And in between all that I’m a few thousand words into the new novel! About time too, because I was getting a little worried there. Endless evenings spent staring gormlessly at a wordless screen, nothing in my head, but blank observations about cheesecake flavours. But once the ideas for the characters came, so did everything else. And it’s all got exciting again as I get to know them one by one. Their personalities, ages, hair styles, shoe sizes; all in my head, ready to burrow their way out and onto the computer. 

So, for a while there, I was in this weird position of correcting the first novel whilst starting the new one and hoping I didn’t get in a muddle with all my characters. Haven’t called anyone by the wrong name yet… but give me time.

So, Merry Christmas in advance lovely readers of Trashionista. I’m going to use the time off during the Christmas break to write as much as I can, whilst squeezing in the odd night out.

See ya in ’08 – the year I get published! 

Lola’s first novel; By The Time You Read This is out in August 2008 Harper Collins

GUEST BLOG: Lola Jaye

One of the (many) things I love about Trashionista is how many of our readers are also writers. It gives us a great opportunity to learn more about the publishing process or, as we called it when Claire Allan guest blogged for us, the road to publication...

So may I introduce Lola, whose novel, By The Time You Read This, is out August 2008, with the first of her monthly updates.   

By The Time I Write This…

….I’ll be another step closer to becoming a published author.

Okay, in and around August 2008, but who’s counting? Well me, actually. The months, the weeks, minutes and hours. Because contrary to those "I got published within an hour of starting the novel!" stories, it can be a long process. In my case, it took years for an agent to actually usher me in for a meeting, then another wait (a book or so later in fact) to get a Yess! from a publisher and will take a year from that yes to actually getting it published!

But unlike previous waits, I just love this one. The tiniest of developments thrill me these days (like, seeing the pre-order on Amazon for the first time). Another little nugget in the mulberry bush was being asked to write a monthly blog for Trashionista! How cool is that? So here I am, letting you in on my road to publication. [Ha! Told you! - Keris]

So how did I arrive here?

Aged eleven, I wrote a series of short serials and created an array of adulterous, shoulder padded characters for my "radio soap opera" The Wilsons– which ironically stopped me from being labelled "quite weird" whilst keeping me out of mischief.

After my degrees (I did two) I put finger to keyboard once again, but instead of a debate on Psychoanalysis Vs Person Centred Therapy, I wrote a story. A novel about a girl not looking for love. Great! I’ll be published within a week! (see above). So, here I am, older, wiser and with better shaped eyebrows (thanks to threading).

Friends, family and imaginary friends ask: “So how does it feel to be a writer?”

And after explaining the vast differences between mine and JK Rowling’s bank balances, I then become mute as I internally ask myself the same question.

"How does it feel…?" 

I’m first to admit the next statement’s ultra dodgy considering I’m soon to be a published writer, but I am unable to describe the feeling of knowing my book will soon be on the bookshelves and possibly in my local library. Elation? Jubilance? Butterflies salsering around my guts? All of the above. But to look at me, you’d never quite notice. For example, when I got THAT CALL from my agent, there were no leaps for joy, no partying, just quiet acceptance and baked sea bream for dinner. Very low key, one would say. But I’ll hold onto the threat of champagne, balloons and victory dances – because they will happen. Praps when I see the first book proof in a few weeks; or the first cover design; or the first review; or someone reading it on the train, shaking their head and wondering just HOW this managed to get into print.

Having signed the publishing contract about five months ago, things are now moving at a steady pace. I’ve just finished the edits and the manuscript’s now with a copy editor, I hope will understand my sarf London twang and references to '90s London. And whilst participating in my usual life that includes a full time job and a bag fetish, I’m also supposed to be starting a new novel…

For now, I remain as happy as anything but without the hoopla. I suppose, having already been through such a rollercoaster of emotions over the past few years, I feel a bit used up on that front … oh okay, a few days after the call, I let out an excitable, loonyfied YESS!!!! On the platform of the Bakerloo line, punching the air like a total moron as a couple of commuters ignored me. And to totally obliterate any ounce of remaining street cred, I’ll now end this piece on an ultra luvvie, cringe worthy, but true note:

Being a writer’s not just what I do – it’s who I am.

If you don’t want to wait for next month’s instalment, log onto www.upadiary.blogspot.com for more silly comments and exclamation marks!

Jane Espenson guest blogs

Screenwriting Wonder Woman Jane Espenson will be here, answering author Shanna Swendon's questions, on Wednesday, 4th December. Yay!

In the meantime, you can find her doing a guest blog over at Jennifer Crusie's place, Argh Ink.

Espenson wrote some of the funniest episodes in Buffy (remember when Xander got syphilis? Perhaps you had to be there...), as well as working on Gilmore Girls and Battlestar Galactica.

Plus, and this is the best bit, it gives me an excuse to illustrate my very first Trashionista post with a picture of Buffy; kick-ass chick heroine extraordinaire.

Related posts: Reading Buffy | Buffy is back! | Chick lit authors' favourite TV shows

GUEST BLOG: Jane O'Connor

Jane O’Connor is a #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 30 books for children, including Fancy Nancy (check it out - so cute!). Her new book, Dangerous Admissions, is her first title for adults and  it's receiving rave reviews. We're thrilled to have a guest blog from Jane today, plus she'll be the subject of our author interview on Wednesday *and* there'll be a competition to win Dangerous Admissions on Friday. So stay tuned! Over to Jane...

Nobody warns you that being a parent means suffering through the angst of adolescence all over again - not being asked to a party, losing a best friend, getting dumped. Remember high school? Don’t most of you (except the few former alpha-girls reading this) rate the experience somewhere below unanaesthetized dental work? You get out alive, but often just barely.

Then you become an ‘adult’ and your nerdy, pitiful, acne-ridden, unpopular self recedes into the past…until you procreate. Now you get to relive the same hurts all over again, and they hurt much, much worse when they’re happening to your child. Oh sure, you have to fake it in front of your kids, staying calm and offering whatever tidbits of comfort and advice that you the parent have cribbed from books on child-rearing. But inside, you’re the one who needs comforting; your child should be slinging an arm around you while murmuring, “I know it you’re miserable now but I swear you’ll get over it.”

Which brings me to the topic of getting into college. I like to think my husband and I were considered pretty ‘normal’ at the very high-pressure Manhattan private school that each of our sons attended for the full K-12 ride. But come spring semester of junior year, with the onslaught of SATs, class rankings, family appointments with the college counselor, my husband and I kicked into high gear, becoming every bit as lunatic as all the other parents, only operating on a considerably smaller budget. We hired tutors galore, possibly even for subjects our boys didn’t take; we wrote – I mean polished – their personal essays – to a high gloss; we conducted mock college interviews (grillings worthy of Senate hearings). By the April 1st notification date, all that mattered to me was the mail. I was the one waiting for the proverbial fat envelope.  And rejection was going to be DEVASTATING.

Once the ordeal was over - with happy outcomes in both cases - I thought, “Well, that’s one thing I’m done obsessing with.” But almost as soon as we dropped off our younger son at his freshman dorm, a title for a novel popped into my head - “Dangerous Admissions.” The story would revolve around nasty doings at a high-pressure Manhattan private school where the seniors all are desperate to go to the same dripping-with-ivy colleges. The book had to be a mystery because in the first chapter I planned to kill off the school’s college guidance counselor,  an old guard powerhouse with long-standing connections at HYP (Harvard, Yale, and Princeton for anyone who needs to ask). No matter that I’d never written an adult book. No matter that I’d never written a mystery. No matter that I never even read mysteries. A mystery it had to be.

And a mystery it is. I agonized over every word; a measly paragraph sometimes was all I had to show for an entire day’s work. Writing Dangerous Admissions was like being in labor for three years. When I finally finished the last chapter, I at least had the satisfaction of knowing it was the best book I could write. And as publication date loomed, the possibility of reviews was frightening. (My nightmare one went like this: The only mystery is why this book got published.) Still, I realized bad reviews wouldn’t crush me…I wouldn’t be devastated.  Why? Simple! A book is a book; it’s not your child.

GUEST BLOG: Brenda Janowitz

When I read about the following on Galleycat, I emailed Brenda and asked her to write about it for Trashionista and she enthusiastically agreed!

Brenda Janowitz on the duelling Scots!

Imagine the thrill I got when I saw my book listed in the pages of Entertainment Weekly.  (Well, first imagine the thrill of someone telling me that my book was mentioned in EW, and then the excitement of running to the drug store, buying my copy, and finally flipping to the Books section to see my name in print…).

There I stood, in the middle of the store, smiling ear to ear as I saw my name in the same magazine as my favorite celebs, not to mention my favorite authors, and I could barely believe my eyes. 

After buying the magazine (and resisting the temptation to show the cashier my name and start screaming and jumping), I drove home in a daze. Visions of phone calls from Drew Barrymore to discuss film rights filled my head. Once I got home, I began calling everyone I ever met to tell them about my good news (and impending celebrity, no doubt).

As I made my calls, I took a closer look at the magazine and realized that my book was actually listed as one of the top five mystery books that week. Funny, I thought, my book isn’t a mystery. Unless, of course, you count the eternal question that is the basis for all of chick lit:  will she or won’t she get the guy??? (Insert dramatic ‘da-da-duuuum’ music here).

It didn’t take me long to realize that EW had confused my book, SCOT ON THE ROCKS (How I survived my ex-boyfriend’s wedding with my dignity ever so slightly intact), which came out in April 2007, with SCOTS ON THE ROCKS (A Bed-and-Breakfast Mystery) by Mary Daheim, which came out July 2007.

So, I did what any writer worth her laptop would do. I pitched an article to them: the dueling SCOTS! I suggested that they print pictures of the two book covers to see whose tartan is more authentic and then compare the books to see who really did her research on Scotland (and, in my book’s case, hot Scottish men!). It would be a fight to the finish to decide whose book is more worthy of the title, SCOT ON THE ROCKS. And maybe, since it’s EW after all, we could even have a reality show tie-in! It would be like the Highland Games, but with cuter outfits! We could each get a team of gorgeous scots to compete on our behalf (I call Ewan McGregor) and then have then compete in a variety of challenges, like slaying the Loch Nech monster!   

Or not.  Geez, being in the pages of EW has really gone to my head…

GUEST BLOG & COMPETITION: Carole Matthews

Carole Matthews is a chick lit superstar, so we're *thrilled* to have a guest blog from her. But that's not all. Oh no. Read on to find out how you can win one of three signed copies of The Chocolate Lovers' Club PLUS a special colour-change promotional mug. Over to Carole...

When I started work on my latest novel, The Chocolate Lovers' Club, naturally, I had to do lots and lots of research into my subject.  This mainly involved eating all kinds of lovely chocolate – delicious single plantation bars from some of the world’s most exotic locations – Cuba, Ecuador, Madagascar - exquisite handmade truffles, dark, milk, white, organic - you name it, I tried it!  I even went along to a health spa specialising in chocolate treatments to be dipped in it.  Strangely, the more I tasted, the more I became addicted to this wonderful substance. 

My passion increased and soon, as well as devouring chocolate itself, I was devouring as much other information as I could about this fascinating subject and my passing interest became a full-blown addiction.  I hold my hands up – I’m now a chocolate anorak!  That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy a good old Mars bar or the occasional Twix, but I’ve now gone over to the dark side and like my chocolate with at least 70 percent cocoa solids.  Once you get into good chocolate it’s like appreciating fine wines or a malt whiskey. Thankfully, in the last couple of years decent chocolate is now more readily available on the high street plus the health benefits of a couple of squares of dark chocolate every day are now well documented. So, there’s really no excuse not to indulge yourself!

What I didn’t realise was that I’d also become addicted to my characters as I wrote the book, led by the lovely, irrepressible Lucy Lombard.  I’m a big fan of Sex and the City and Desperate Housewives and wanted to create my own series featuring four feisty women who are joined in friendship by their passion for chocolate.  Lucy and her friends Autumn, Nadia and Chantal, all turn to each other and to chocolate in times of crisis.  Reminds me of someone else I know!

The Chocolate Lovers' Club and its sequel, The Chocolate Lovers’ Diet, is out now and I think there may well be a third instalment on the way.  But I didn’t want all the knowledge that I’d accrued about chocolate to go to waste so I’ve also set up a website for chocolate lovers’ everywhere – The Chocolate Lovers' Club.  There are some useful facts, some completely useless chocolate trivia – did you know that 50% of women say that they prefer chocolate to sex? - exclusive short stories that I've written especially and some of my favourite recipes which are tried and tested by my own fair hands.

So I hope you enjoy the books, take a look at the website and remember this – forget diamonds, chocolate is a girl’s best friend!

‘One word of advice before you start this book – make sure you’ve got a big bar of chocolate next to you… This is serious chick-lit and it will make you believe in friendship and love all over again.’  News of the World

To be in with a chance of winning the fantastic prize - one of three signed copies of The Chocolate Lovers' Club PLUS colour-change promotional mug - go to the special Trashionista page (Special Trashionista page! Get us!) on Carole's website. Good luck!

GUEST BLOG: Caprice Crane

I am so happy to have a guest blog from the wonderful Caprice Crane. Read on to learn how the premature death of her best friend informed the writing of Forget About It.

How do you stand up for yourself when you just can't stand yourself? Some people are truly incapable of self-defense. And what's worse, sometimes those unfortunate ones get dealt a really bad hand.

Forget About It is total fiction. I wrote the book as an exploration of a major "What if?" When I first had the idea, I thought it was brilliant. (Not the idea to write the book - I'm not *that* much of an ass - the idea of faking amnesia to totally reinvent yourself.) Of course, it wasn't something I'd ever do in real life but what a great concept, I thought. A do-over.

As I developed Jordan, the main character, I wanted her to be real. And the more I got to know her in the early passages of the book, the more she reminded me of my best friend Melissa who recently passed away at age 31 from cancer. Way too young.

In Melissa's final months, she showed more courage than the bravest soldier and more calm than a Buddhist leader. Despite all her pain, she showed unrelenting strength and tremendous compassion for those she loved. Her forgiveness was inspirational, her will indomitable, her love contagious.

But in the years prior, she had a really rough go. Her family life wasn't always great (to put it exceptionally politely), she struggled with depression and drug/alcohol addiction, and she attempted suicide on more than one occasion.

Yet, throughout a tumultuous young adulthood, she maintained the "I'm okay" façade. She never stood up for herself, though there were more than a few people who deserved to be put in their place and more than a few situations where an aggressive defense would have been justified. She never learned to love herself enough to deem herself worth fighting for. She took a lot of hits, swallowed a lot of pride and smiled through so much hurt that it's almost like the cancer was her escape from a life too painful. Enough was finally enough.

Jordan is not Melissa. Not at all. But Jordan stands up for herself in a way that Melissa never did and never could. Maybe the book is a love-letter to my lost friend. A wink at the heavens. I hope she loves it. And I hope you do too. 

Thanks, Caprice. Your books make me laugh and now your Guest Blog's made me cry!

GUEST BLOG: Allison Winn Scotch

I loved Allison Winn Scotch's debut novel, The Department of Lost and Found so much I asked the author to do a guest blog for us, and she very kindly agreed to tell the background to her book, or...

The Story Behind The Story by Allison Winn Scotch

When people ask what my novel is about, I mutter something about a young woman who is diagnosed with cancer and wait for the inevitable reaction:  horror.  It's as if their brains are flashing, “There is no way in freaking hell that I'd read a book about cancer."  I mean, truly, it's painfully and incredibly obvious.

So then I offer up my caveat.  "But it's really funny!  And it's not really about cancer, it's more about a young woman's journey to self-discovery, and the cancer is just the catalyst."

They nod their heads and look at me unconvinced.  You're probably reading this and thinking the same thing.  Yeah, right.

So let me rewind and explain how I got here.  Over two years ago, I lost one of my closest friends to breast cancer.  She was 31, a mother to a three-month old at the time of her diagnosis, and one of the most vibrant and tenacious women I'd known.  Her diagnosis was shocking, swift and brutal, and six months later, she passed away.  It all happened so suddenly that I literally barely had time to register that she was sick, much less gone.  Even today, I still sometimes think that I see her on the street or forget entirely that I can't call her or email her to share some news.

(Ahem, I know.  You're wondering, when does this get funny?  Hang in there.)

After the funeral, I didn't know where to put my grief. I mean, how do you box up the devastation of the most painful experience of your lifetime? Where do you put it? How do you move forward? The answer is, or at least, my answer was, to write.

A month or so after her funeral, I woke up one morning with a vision of a character who would soon become my protagonist, Natalie. She was a ferocious 30-year old whose cancer diagnosis would throw her world on end but ultimately, wouldn’t beat her. And so, I sat down in front of my computer and wrote. And wrote and wrote and wrote. Until three months later, not only did I have a completed manuscript, I'd also wrestled with a good amount of my grief. Which brings me to the funny.

As I was writing, it became clear that I was using the book as a tool for healing, and because of this, never once did it occur to me to drag the prose or the plot down in maudlin, heavy-handed themes. Because, come on, as anyone who has ever been touched by cancer knows, the last thing you need in this situation is something else to remind you of the horror of the experience. So instead, I placed Natalie in humorous situations (her first experiences smoking pot, her increasing obsession with The Price is Right, her top 5 list of celebrities she wants to sleep with), and showed (I hope) that you can keep your sense of humor (and your sense of life) even while battling this insidious disease.

Since The Department of Lost and Found has come out, I've received notes from a variety of people whose lives (for better or worse) have been affected by cancer, and nearly all of them have told me that the book has helped them heal in some way. And most of them delighted in the fact that while I still took the time to highlight the difficulties that cancer can wreak, both physically and emotionally, I also made the point that it doesn't have to break your spirit. And that, in fact, it can even bolster it.

So to cancer I say, screw you. If I can eke a laugh out of the disease, then I'm certain that it's not unbeatable. A cure can't be too far behind.

(c) Allison Winn Scotch 2007

Related: Cancer Vixen

GUEST BLOG: Claire Allan

Claire Allan's been blogging about the build up to the release of her debut novel, Rainy Days & Tuesdays for us and now it's finally here... almost.

Not long now!

It now seems real. In approxi