Were I a Greyhound driver I could say our vacation’s a real busman’s holiday, as we are staying in 6 different locales during this ten-day car trip. But I’m a writer so I guess I’ll call it a writer’s holiday since I’ve been taking notes for future work and going over the last details of the children’s book that will finally go to print, hopefully before the next new moon.
And then there is this space here that needs filling. Figuring you, my loyal readers, are out and about, at BBQ’s or sunning yourselves, you are not inclined to sit inside reading these nuggets of wisdom. So I shall simply share a few passing thoughts and experiences.
Popped into a vintage clothing store yesterday when visiting the quaint NJ riverside town of Red Bank. There on a sweet little table was a wide elasticized gold belt with bright gold clasp. I have one just like it hanging in my closet. No longer do I see vintage items and remark, “Oh… I used to play with something just like that!” Or, “Oh, my mother had a bowl/glass/blouse just like that.” No. Now I mumble to myself, “I have (notice present tense) one just like it. It’s still hanging in my closet.” I am vintage. Hear me roar.
James Frey of I’ll-embellish-my-memoir-to-the-point-of-fantasy fame has just signed with Harper Collins. The four-book series for teens will be written by Frey and a co-author. (Wanna guess which one will be the fact checker?) The manuscript was offered to editors anonymously. I wonder why. Don’t ya just love it? The guy who scammed agents, editors, readers and Oprah the first time around will be paid “under seven figures.” Should tell agents my novel is non-fiction? Or reveal that my name is really James Frey?
And onto another literary jaunt — Jodi Picoult’s novel My Sister’s Keeper has made it to the silver screen. Was thinking about Jodi last week what with this dream-come-true event coming to a theater near you. Her books have been translated into more languages than were spoken pre-Babel. Her bank account likely approaches pre-Madoff proportions. She was written up in the NY Times just last week. Not so glowingly but then there’s that silver screen thing for comfort.
However. And this is a big one. Hollywood changed the ending of her wonderful book. Eviscerated it. Ruined it as far as I (and 72 percent of AOL respondents) are concerned. How must JP feel? To have written a great book, the ups, the downs, the cuts and the rewrites. The coming up with an ending that you know will make your readers gasp. A resolution from left field that is an outta the ballpark home run. And to have Hollywood turn it blander than oatmeal! Can’t feel good.
And now dear readers, I am off to play a few rounds of Scrabble with Cousin Gary, a formidable and worthy opponent. (Although Emma did happen to trounce him, twice.) Go Emma!