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The last time that I saw snow, it was a rather unimpressive flurry in northern Michigan. Because it happened during the springtime, it didn't leave much of a presence behind. Well, as I just mentioned on my American Nomad blog, I'll soon be headed to Yellowstone National Park – where I'm guaranteed to see some of the frozen white stuff – and with any luck, this New Orleans girl will survive the crazy temperatures. To my Northern friends I ask, is five layers overkill?
Autumn doesn't technically begin until late September, but for most Americans, Labor Day (which happens to be tomorrow) signifies the last chance for a summer holiday. As I've mentioned in a previous post, autumn is my favorite season, and yet, I find myself, like many of my friends and relatives, lamenting the passing of summer. This one, in particular, seems to have flown by. Within a month, my husband, Dan, and I will be back in New Orleans – in a new French Quarter apartment that has hopefully not suffered any wind or water damage from Hurricane Isaac – and my wonderful summertime activities will be just a memory. No more hiking or bicycling in the woods of northern Michigan. No more swimming in Big Bear Lake. No more riding around in my trusty $85 paddleboat (the best buy of the summer). No more lying on my lakeside hammock, and no more exploring the Tahquamenon Falls of the Upper Peninsula.
But, just because fall is on its way, that doesn't mean it's too late to explore the great outdoors. In fact, autumn – with its ever-changing colors – is a delightful time to explore America's outdoor treasures, such as the Great Smoky Mountains (pictured here courtesy of Colby McLemore), a majestic, wooded mountain range that spans the border between Tennessee and North Carolina. As a child, I shared a particularly amazing trip there with my mother, and for a long time now, I've longed to return with my husband.
After all, it's an ideal locale for a nature lover's escape, with countless trails, numerous scenic overlooks, and oodles of fascinating flora and fauna to experience. For more information about this popular region (pictured here courtesy of Colby McLemore), consult experts like Deborah Huso, the fellow Moon author who's written the Moon Blue Ridge & Smoky Mountains guidebook ($16.95), and Katy Koontz, the fellow SATW member who's created a helpful mobile app called Smoky Mountain Travel Guide ($2.99).
Both the book and the app are handy tools to take with you on your trip to the Smokies (pictured here courtesy of Colby McLemore). Of course, if you need a bit more convincing, consider the following images:
a beautiful day in Cades Cove, courtesy of Colby McLemore
a historic log cabin in Cades Cove, courtesy of Colby McLemore
cover shot for Katy Koontz's Smoky Mountain travel app
sample Cades Cove screen shot in Katy Koontz's Smoky Mountain travel app
sample topics to browse in Katy Koontz's Smoky Mountain travel app
So, are you itching to explore the Great Smoky Mountains for yourself? If so, what are you waiting for?
Despite the fact that my husband, Dan, and I are lifelong atheists, we admit to being fond of the Christmas season – if only because it gives us a reason to shower each other with gifts and eat yummy food. While the commercialistic aspects of the season can be disheartening at times – not to mention having to brave traffic jams and frenzied shoppers at the mall – I've always found other aspects, like Christmas carols and holiday lights, to be downright uplifting. Even in the French Quarter – where snow is a rarity – it's hard not to embrace the spirit of the season.
There's also something indescribably joyous and magical about the holiday. After all, as a child, I fully believed that Santa Claus would visit my house on Christmas Eve, eat his ration of homemade cookies, and, in exchange, leave behind a present or two. Anticipation of the next morning's surprises always made it tough for me to fall asleep – in fact, writing my wish list for Santa and imagining all the possibilities was almost more exciting than opening the gifts themselves. Now that I'm an adult, I can't believe the crazy things for which I sometimes asked – from ponies to sorceress outfits. Needless to say, I didn't get everything I wanted, but just the act of asking was a lot of fun.
Imagine, though, if Santa Claus wasn't age-limited. Imagine if, as an adult, you could get anything you desired from Santa. If that were the case, what would you want? Feel free to answer here or on the Come In Character site, where I posed the same question to authors and characters alike.
In the meantime, I hope that you all have a wonderful holiday season, no matter what you choose to celebrate, and if my end-of-the-line work on Moon New Orleans, my current travel guide project, keeps me away longer than I'd like, then I wish you all a happy New Year, too. See you in 2012!
It's hard to believe that I'm still working on the third edition of Moon New Orleans. After all, it's been over a year since the process began, and I've never taken so long to complete a travel guide. For a combination of reasons – including the fact that, as a native of the Big Easy, I'm even more concerned about this book than I've been about my other ones – it just hasn't been the smoothest of projects. Whenever I feel like running for the hills, however, three things stop me: pride in my work, the possibility of disappointing my editors as well as my hubby, and my lifelong passion for this one-of-a-kind city. Taking a stroll through my beloved French Quarter – where Dan and I live for much of the year – certainly helps, too, as does listening to one of my favorite New Orleans albums, from Dr. John's Goin' Back to New Orleans (1992) to Tab Benoit's Best of the Bayou Blues (2006) to Lucky Devil (2010), the debut album of local favorite Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns (pictured above). These and seven other albums always have the power to transport me to New Orleans (if, of course, I'm not already here) and inspire me to share a few stories about this amazing town. If you're curious about my other album picks, check out the latest entry on my American Nomad blog.
In the meantime, though, I have two questions: How do you deal with troublesome writing projects, and what kind of music has the power to transport you to other places?
As a native of the Crescent City, I've long been a fan of trains and streetcars. During college, I relished taking Amtrak's City of New Orleans to Chicago and back, and since I was a kid, I've enjoyed numerous rides aboard the Big Easy's historic streetcar line. So, it's no wonder that I often have railways on the brain. If you're a fan, too, take a look at my picks for some of the finest railroad museums along America's East Coast, in the Midwestern and Southern states, and throughout the American West – not to mention some of the best trolley museums in the country.
So, do you have a favorite?
This week, Moon.com is running a contest in celebration of road trips. To enter, you simply have to share your favorite road trip song with the folks at Moon. The deadline is tomorrow evening at 5 p.m. PST, and the winner will receive a free 8GB iPod Nano and a Moon guidebook of his or her choice.
To help promote the giveaway, I've spent this entire week blogging about road trip-related things, including a long-ago RV adventure on Interstate 40, between Tennessee and Arizona. In addition, I've shared 10 of my favorite road trip routes in America as well as suggestions for road trip essentials – basically, everything from snacks to audiobooks to jumper cables. So, take a minute to check out the posts – and don't forget to enter the contest. Good luck, and happy travels!
As I've noted before on this blog, I feel incredibly blessed to have the hubby that I do. Over the nearly 12 years that we've been together, he's cooked me lots of yummy meals, randomly brought home flowers, listened to my troubles, shared my passion for cinema and travel, tirelessly supported my desire to be a writer, and, most importantly, tolerated my rather high-strung nature – especially whenever a crazy travel guide deadline looms. Even now, as I struggle to complete the manuscript and maps for my latest guide, Moon New Orleans, he's doing his best to support my perfectionistic work ethic while encouraging me to get proper sleep and venture out into the world on occasion.
Although, as with any marriage, we've experienced our momentary rough spots over the years, we're pretty well suited for each other – in spite of our differences. Even long road trips don't phase us too much. During our most recent drive between Los Angeles and New Orleans, for instance, we found ourselves at a truck stop near Benson, Arizona, shortly after witnessing a terrible, flame-enshrouded automotive accident. After using the bathroom facilities, we each gathered a few snacks for the road. Being somewhat indecisive, I was still trying to find the perfect treat to accompany my cup of hot tea when Dan was en route to the register.
“I'll be waiting in the car,” he said. “Do you need any money?”
“No, thanks. I'm good.”
After Dan left the store, a pleasant, female truck driver looked at me and chuckled. “You two must not be married,” she remarked. “Or else you'd know never to turn down his offer of money.”
I smiled. “Actually, we've been married for over ten years.”
“Oh, never mind. I guess you'll never learn.”
Now, it was my turn to laugh. “Nope. I guess I never will.”
After all, that's one of the many things that I cherish about me and Dan. We share everything – including money, a similar sense of humor, and a determined effort not to play relationship games. Maybe that's why we're still married – and the female truck driver, who found my lack of an opportunistic streak amusing, had been admittedly divorced for a good, long while.
Then again, who knows why some couples last, and some don't? Love, like many things, is not an exact science – a fact that I'm grateful to have learned firsthand.
Although I'm a bit late in doing this, I'd like to take a moment to promote a wonderful new anthology of short stories, novel excerpts, poems, and other enticing writings. Published by the folks at The Literary Lab and dubbed the Notes from Underground Anthology, this intriguing collection presents a wide array of stories, one of which is written by my online pal (and helpful beta reader), J.B. Chicoine. Having purchased the book through Kindle for my new iPhone, I've already read several of the entries, including Bridget's heartbreaking story (an excerpt from an unpublished novel that I badly want to read), so I can say without a doubt that I highly recommend this collection – which captivated and entertained me immensely during the long drive between Los Angeles, where my husband and I recently ran our sixth annual Beverly Hills Shorts Festival, and our home in New Orleans.
Not only is the anthology worth reading, but I also relish the fact that, by purchasing it, I'm supporting my fellow writers – both those whose works are included within the anthology as well as those who will ultimately benefit from the Writer's Emergency Assistance Fund, the charity that will receive all proceeds from this anthology. Every little bit helps after all – especially in these challenging times.
A few days ago, I received an unsettling email from the nonprofit organization Friends of New Orleans. Apparently, Newsweek had published a list of America's top 10 dying cities in late January, and poor, beleaguered New Orleans was at the top of the list. Being a native of the Big Easy and a part-time resident of the French Quarter, I couldn't help but question the magazine's motive in publishing such a one-dimensional piece. So, although I'm a month behind the times, I felt a strong urge to discuss this misleading article on my American Nomad blog, which I did late last night. After all, though it's true that cities like Grand Rapids, Flint, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and New Orleans have suffered population declines over the past decade, demographic information isn't the only factor that determines a city's worth, especially from a traveler's perspective.
So, what do you think of the list?
While I know it's not true, it often seems as though I'm never not working. Whether writing or promoting travel guides, working on articles and blog posts, or helping my husband, Dan, with one of his film fests, it feels as though I never make much time for fun – whether that might be reading a book, going to the movies, listening to live music with Dan, or writing some purposeless fiction. I often have to remind myself – due, in large part, to my husband's prodding – that fun is a necessary part of every day, which is why I appreciate creative outlets such as Come In Character, where authors are free to write through their characters' voices, no matter if they're from published stories or works-in-progress. Unfortunately, I haven't had much time for CIC as of late – in fact, I'd been on hiatus since before the holidays – but last week, I decided that the hiatus had lasted long enough. On Friday, I posted the start of a group story – a winter's tale, to be exact – and while my fellow writers have already begun contributing, the story's not over yet. So, if you find yourself overworked at the moment, and in need of a story break, feel free to stop by, too!
As usual, I find myself stretched a bit too thin to post here on a regular basis, and as I've expressed before, I really miss the time I used to spend surfing the blogosphere. But, despite my myriad duties and projects as of late, I know I'd be remiss if I allowed Thanksgiving week to pass me by without expressing my heartfelt gratitude for my friends and loved ones, including my blogging pals.
Lately, though, I've felt most grateful for my four grandparents – all of whom were a huge part of my life, especially during my childhood. Although they're never far from my mind, they've been even more present in my thoughts this year. Perhaps that's because I lost the last two – my paternal grandfather and my maternal grandmother – within the last six months. My grandpa (pictured here with my dad and stepmom), whom I called Paw-Paw Al as a child, passed away in mid-June, just a few days before Father's Day, while my grandma, otherwise known as Maw-Maw Deanne, died less than two weeks ago, just 10 days following her 88th birthday.
While I love and miss each of them greatly, losing Deanne (pictured here with me and my mom) was perhaps the hardest blow – and not just because she was the last to go. She was also, if truth be told, my favorite. Her house – which was lost in Hurricane Katrina – always felt like home to me. While growing up, I spent countless hours with her, reading books, watching our favorite shows, eating our favorite treats, singing our favorite songs. We were so close that we even had a shared tune – “You Are My Sunshine” – which, appropriately enough, was written by former Louisiana governor Jimmie Davis.
Of course, I could easily fill a hundred posts with all the adventures I had with my grandparents as a child. But, for now, I'll just say that, while losing each of them has been devastating to me – especially given my atheistic belief that I'll never see them again – I realize how fortunate I am to have known, loved, and been loved by them. And, though their absence saddens me and sharply reminds me of my own mortality, I'm grateful that they were such an important part of my life – and I know without a doubt that they'll always be a part of me.
Despite my impending deadline for Moon Florida Keys, Dan and I have had a pretty darn good weekend. As promised in my last post, we ventured to a nearby movie theater on Friday night and enjoyed a double feature of The Crazies and Shutter Island. While such thrillers might not be for everyone, we liked both of them immensely.
As other reviewers have noted, The Crazies is a surprisingly intelligent horror film. Spanning just a few days in the life (and unfortunate demise) of a small town in Iowa – due to an inadvertent contamination of the communal water supply – the movie offers an effective balance between terror and tragedy. Part of the film's success can be attributed to the solid cast, adeptly led by Timothy Olyphant – a skilled actor who manages to insert moments of humor in an otherwise serious film about a fatal government mistake and the callous cover-up that ensues. But, as I told my mom on the phone tonight, it's also surprisingly less gory than I expected, a testament to the filmmakers' desire to keep story and character development paramount.
Shutter Island, which we saw afterward, is an equally entertaining film, based on a novel by Dennis Lehane. Despite the fact that the story's climactic twist is apparent from the beginning, the experience is still well worth the price of admission (which is, by the way, a heck of a lot higher in Los Angeles than in northern Michigan). Given that it's filmed almost entirely on an isolated island during inclement weather, the movie is certainly rich with atmosphere. In fact, director Martin Scorsese has effectively used the environment to heighten the story's tension, leading the main character, a troubled U.S. marshal, through dangerous settings, such as a blustery cemetery and a perilous cliff face. Beyond the atmosphere, the film is full of excellent performances, from the likes of Ben Kingsley, Max von Sydow, Michelle Williams, Jackie Earle Haley, and Ted Levine, not to mention engaging cameos by Patricia Clarkson and Elias Koteas. Of course, the star of the film is Leonardo DiCaprio, who gives a heart-wrenching performance in what is ultimately a poignant psychological drama.
But movies weren't the only diversion we experienced this weekend. Last night, we attended a Lost panel discussion at the Saban Theatre in Beverly Hills. Part of this year's Paley Fest, an annual event hosted by the Paley Center for Media in celebration of modern television, the panel featured several members of the cast and creative team, including actors Terry O'Quinn (John Locke), Michael Emerson (Ben Linus), and Nestor Carbonell (Richard Alpert), plus executive producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse – all of whom offered amusing answers to the questions posed by the moderator and audience. Of course, no definitive secrets were revealed about the final season of this simultaneously compelling and annoying show, but we did get a chance to see a clip of next week's episode, which was cool. More than anything, I was delighted by the rapport between O'Quinn and Emerson, who play fierce rivals on the series, and frankly, I welcomed another night away from my laptop.
But, naturally, I'm hard at work today. Sigh.
Well, I hope your weekend was equally fun, wherever you went and whatever you did.
Lately, I haven't had much time for anything but travel research. I'm not complaining, mind you – I've really enjoyed traversing the Florida Keys, in search of little-known eateries and experiences – but I do miss having the time for other activities, like blogging, beta-reading, and playing with my kitty.
I've been working so hard on my Florida Keys travel guide, in fact, that my parents have both expressed concern. They each believe that I need to step away from the laptop for a little while, and they each suggested that I spend the break watching my beloved New Orleans Saints take on the Minnesota Vikings – which will be happening in a matter of minutes. After all, this is a historic moment for native New Orleanians – the Saints have never gotten this close to the Superbowl before, and if Archie Manning's old team gets a chance to play Peyton Manning's current one, I can't even imagine the party that will erupt on the streets of the French Quarter.
So, perhaps I should take my parents' advice and embrace a little football break this evening. You think I should?
After much encouragement from my online buddies, I've decided to take a break from blogging this week. Unfortunately, it's not because I want to kick back and relax (well, I do want to, but it's just not possible). No, it's because I have a lot of work ahead for my latest travel guide – including packing up and heading to southern Florida in eight days – and I'm simply too overwhelmed to add blogging to my to-do list.
So, it's with a heavy heart that I put my blog on hold – at least until 2010 begins. Here's hoping that I have two chapters done by then.
In the meantime, I leave you with these links to my American Nomad travel blog - a three-part series about my favorite U.S. travel secrets, like how to get into The Magic Castle, where to find local music in New Orleans, and where to find diamonds in America. Hope you enjoy the trip...
Happy New Year, everyone!
If you follow professional football at all, then you probably know that my beloved New Orleans Saints lost to the Dallas Cowboys last night, thus ending their 13-game winning streak. Dan and I watched the first half of the game at my dad's house north of Lake Pontchartrain, then when it seemed that the Saints' defense was crumbling under the pressure, we decided to head for home. We weren't bailing on the Saints (and we weren't trying to disappoint my dad), but we had a lengthy drive back into the city – and trying to park in the French Quarter on a Saturday night is hard enough without adding a Saints home game into the mix.
As it was, by the time we reached the Quarter, it was impossible to find a spot on the street, and we were stuck with the expensive lots on Decatur. Seriously, though, we were lucky to find a spot at all. Just as we pulled into the only lot left open, an attendant dragged the “Lot Full” sign across the driveway behind us. Of course, if we hadn't found a spot, we were fully prepared to catch another showing of Avatar – just to let the herds thin out in the Quarter.
After parking, we wandered several blocks to our apartment on Ursulines, passing several crowded bars along the way. The televisions in each bar were all naturally tuned to the Saints game, and we stopped at every open doorway, hoping against hope that our beloved black-and-gold could pull off another near-miss. In the final quarter, as we reached the TVs at Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop, the Saints had nearly caught up, but once we made it home and flipped on the radio, we learned it wasn't meant to be. When the final score was announced, we were no longer in earshot of the bars, but I suspect most New Orleanians were as disappointed as we were.
Despite such disappointment, it's important to be honest – even when it comes to sports. And the fact is, while the Saints' 13-1 record is impressive, numbers can be deceiving. After all, the Saints' defense has been rocky all year, and the offense has often had to pull off a veritable miracle toward the end of each game. Now, before you accuse me of besmirching the Saints' good name, I'm simply saying that this season's performance, while incredible, has certainly been far from flawless – so a loss was indeed long in coming. And, hey, it's only one loss. Who knows what next week will bring?
I just hope Coach Payton can inspire the Saints' defense – goodness knows, the boys were languid yesterday. And as my hubby often says, “The offense can win a season, but it's the defense that usually wins championships.” For the Saints' sake, I hope that that's not always the case.
But even if they falter in the playoffs and fail to win a Super Bowl, they're still superheroes in my eyes – and they'll always be my favorite team. Apparently, I'm not the only die-hard fan of this underdog outfit – last night, in the Superdome, the Saints fans (my stepsister's husband among them) loudly cheered the players off the field, despite the upsetting loss – once again affirming my belief that New Orleanians, if nothing else, are a loyal lot.
Okay, so it was another close game – perhaps closer than it should have been, especially for a team that could be headed for the Superbowl. But, nonetheless, my beloved Saints won! They won, they won, they won! A 13-0 season is absolutely unprecedented for them, and I couldn’t be happier – or prouder. From the many hoots, hollers, cab horns, and “Who Dat!” whoops that Dan and I heard this afternoon in the French Quarter, it seems that other New Orleanians are just as pleased.
Geaux get ‘em, Saints!
Well, that was one mighty exciting football match today. Until the New Orleans Saints nailed the touchdown that threw the game into overtime, I seriously thought their perfect record was in jeopardy. And I could feel the tension everywhere – my heart, my head, my feet. In fact, I kept scurrying out of the room where the hubby was listening to a radio broadcast of this nail-biter. And while I’m happy – ecstatically so! – that the Saints won in overtime by three points, I can’t help but wonder... is it healthy to internalize something like this? A game over which I have absolutely no control.
Probably not. But then, don’t we all do that at times? Don’t we all get nervous about things beyond our influence – everything from Best Picture winners to presidential elections? Even which agents will respond favorably to our queries. Well, at least in that case, we have some amount of influence. After all, it’s up to each of us to prepare the best manuscript, the most compelling query, the most enticing website and/or blog, the most meaningful connections in the social networking universe... But even with all that, we still have to leave a bit of this publishing stuff up to chance – and the so-called will of the publishing gods.
So, what in this crazy world gets your heart and head thumping with anticipation?
My thirty-third birthday is tomorrow. According to my mom, I was born at 10:21 a.m. in Metairie – a suburb of New Orleans – in a place once called Lakeside Hospital. I know this because, every year, she calls me precisely at 10:21 a.m. – just to sing me a bar of the “Happy Birthday” song. I must admit that, despite the fact that I’m in my thirties, I have yet to tire of this tradition. Actually, I find it kind of sweet.
Still, I have mixed feelings about birthdays. (Of course, who past the age of twenty-one doesn’t?) As each year passes, I’m often forced to reconsider my goals, to once again reassess my dream of being a published novelist, and to make the sad realization that I’m not much closer to achieving it than I was a year ago.
But life isn’t about such lofty ambitions. It’s about all the little moments – the memorable experiences that fill each day – and today was filled with plenty. Dan and I drove from New Orleans to Baton Rouge to spend the morning with my teeny-tiny grandmother and the afternoon with my mom. Following a Thanksgiving-like lunch at mom’s house (complete with smoked ham, cranberry sauce, spinach casserole, potato salad, and pumpkin pie), Mom, Dan, and I saw the 3-D presentation of A Christmas Carol, which I thoroughly enjoyed. And then, as with any birthday weekend in my family, more food was involved.
So, despite my misgivings about getting older, I’m grateful for what I have: a loving family, good friends, and an awesome kitty (who was in fact last year’s birthday “present”). Besides, it just so happens that I was born on Mark Twain’s birthday – which I like to consider a positive omen that my fiction-writing dreams will someday come true. Hey, whatever works, right?
It’s been over a week since my film fest madness, and I still feel as though I’m playing catch-up. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that we’ve moved – yet again.
Nevertheless, in honor of last weekend’s closing night awards ceremony, I think it’s high time that I pass along a couple of blogalicious awards, which two online pals were generous enough to pass along to me.
First up is the Humane Award, which Deb L. Strange bestowed upon me in late October. I’m not certain that I deserve such an award – especially since my blog focuses on the people, places, and entities that interest or inspire me, and not on humanity or causes or the “big things” in life. But I feel grateful nonetheless, so thanks, Deb!
Now, per the instructions of this award, I believe I’m supposed to accept and post it to my blog – done! – then link to the person who gave it to me – done! – then pass it to five other worthy bloggers. This part is a little tougher. Since entering the blogosphere this April, I’ve discovered a wealth of wonderful blogs out there, many of which I’ve already honored with previous awards and many more that I’d like to call attention to. But, after much thought, I’ve decided to honor the following bloggers for their remarkable humaneness, which, for the purposes of this award, I took to mean their compassion, charity, grace, and helpfulness toward their readers and fellow bloggers:
- Jennifer J. Bennett of, well, Jennifer J. Bennett, who generously offers book reviews, writing contests, and more
- Tabitha Bird of Through My Eyes, for her inspirational posts and poems
- Roni England of Fiction Groupie, who has inspired and informed countless writers with her thought-provoking posts
- Donna Hole of, well, Donna Hole, who loves to share her online finds with others
- Susan R. Mills of A Walk in My Shoes, whose fun but informative posts always give writers food for thought
Thanks to all of you for filling my head and brightening my days.
The second award that I’ve recently received is the Honest Scrap Award, given to me earlier this month by Donna Hole. And, as with the above award, I feel incredibly grateful for the nod.
For this one, I’m supposed to accept and post it to my blog – done! – then link to the person who gave it to me – done! – then pass it to five other worthy bloggers. Although I’d love to honor a wide array of blogs, I’ve decided to obey the rules and only choose five – the ones that I count on most for their courageous honesty:
- Bane of Anubis of Bane’s Blogging Blues
- Bridget Chicoine of J.B. Chicoine...Aspiring Novelist
- Steph Damore of Stephanie Damore
- Becky Johnson of Becky’s Blabber
- Deb L. Strange of Ranch Girl Ramblings
The “Honest Scrap Award” has an added requirement – to share five personal tidbits about myself – so in the interest of keeping this short, here goes:
1. My favorite color is green – from the shade of trees to the hue of mint chocolate ice cream – which would be fine, except that Dan’s favorite color is also green, meaning that we often fight over things like toothbrushes and mini-golf balls.
2. Recently, it occurred to me that, as a travel writer, I have the worst sense of direction and the strongest susceptibility to motion sickness of anyone I know. Perhaps I should switch careers.
3. Given my sensitivity to heat, aversion to spicy foods, and lack of an accent, Dan often jokes that I’m the worst New Orleanian ever. He could be right.
4. I once dated a boy who had two pythons, a tarantula, a scorpion, and an iguana, all of which ended up on me at one time or another. I AM a horror aficionado, remember?
5. I’ve had a crush on Robert Duvall ever since I was twelve, when he played Gus in Lonesome Dove, a television mini-series that has sadly not held up through the years.
For more goofy tidbits about me, check out this previous post. And feel free to ask me whatever you want. Yes, that’s right, I said whatever – although I can’t promise full disclosure, I’ll try hard to earn my “Honest Scrap Award.” Honest.
Alright, alright, so I’m WAY late with my “Weekend Mishmash” post. As you might have noticed, it’s already Monday night, and according to the rules of my blog, I should be focused on food right about now... but alas, I’m still playing catch-up after a crazy film festival weekend. The good news, however, is that Dan and I survived. Yahoo! Yahoo! Yahoo!
Despite the stress of technical difficulties, no-show volunteers, and low attendance during the televised Saints game (darn you, football!), I managed to “enjoy all the moments,” as my pal Deb suggested. Here are the top ten reasons that I’m happy to have co-hosted the third annual Big Easy International Film Festival (even though I missed all my blogging friends amid the hullabaloo):
1. Thursday night’s party at the Kerry Irish Pub was a lot of fun. Busy, yes, but I was still able to hear some terrific acoustic music (thanks, Chip Wilson!), meet several friendly out-of-town filmmakers, and snatch a mini-muffuletta and a couple “turtles” (shortbread cookies with pecans and a dollop of fudge) from the dwindling food spread.
2. My father and stepmother attended the party, while my mother brought a friend to see a few films on Saturday. It was sweet of my folks to support our festival, and I was happy that they were able to see us in our element. So, thanks, Mom and Dad!
3. Our volunteers were awesome, as always. I loved catching up with those from previous years – like wacky Gary, affectionately known as the “dancing doctor” – and I was delighted to meet new folks, too – such as Tina, the model-turned-chef.
4. The filmmakers seemed to have a wonderful time at the festival – enjoying the nightlife of New Orleans, encountering new filmmaking pals, and getting the chance to share their stories with others. I, too, loved meeting such diverse artists from all around the country – including places like Los Angeles, Pittsburgh, New York, Baltimore, and Austin.
5. As usual, the post-screening question-and-answer sessions were enlightening and hilarious. Filmgoers heard funny behind-the-scenes tales, learned a little bit about filmmaking, and discovered the inspiration behind many of the films on display.
6. Dan and I were both exceedingly proud of the overall line-up. Ranging from twisted dark comedy shorts to engaging feature-length documentaries, the list of quality films seemed to impress the filmmakers as well as the filmgoers. We grinned every time someone told us how much he/she was enjoying the experience, but we couldn’t help but wonder... how come ALL festivals don’t present such equally stupendous films?
7. Although one feature – an amazing film called How I Got Lost – only attracted a handful of cinema buffs (darn you, Saints!), most of the screenings had at least thirty folks in the theater, and three of them – Trapped in Katrina, The Magistical, and King of Oak Street – lured well over a hundred people each.
8. Sunday night was a great relief. Following the brief awards ceremony, Dan and I packed up the festival paraphernalia and headed into the Quarter (and, later, the Marigny) to celebrate with the attendees, many of whom expressed admiration for our event. Despite its small size and intimate vibe, it’s well organized as festivals go, and we’re apparently more accessible and active than most festival directors – another reason to feel proud.
9. The theater staff – in particular, Brian, Jack, and David – were fun and accommodating, which definitely helped to minimize the stress of this whirlwind event.
10. I must admit, too, that I was grateful to David, who gave me, Dan, and the volunteers all the free popcorn and soda we could stomach. Although I’m paying for it now, I was more than happy at the time!
P.S. Isn’t it just like me to begin and end a post with a shot of food? Guess I honored "Monday Munchies" after all. Hehehe.
Despite the fact that my husband, Dan, and I are lifelong atheists, we admit to being fond of the Christmas season – if only because it gives us a reason to shower each other with gifts and eat yummy food. While the commercialistic aspects of the season can be disheartening at times – not to mention having to brave traffic jams and frenzied shoppers at the mall – I've always found other aspects, like Christmas carols and holiday lights, to be downright uplifting. Even in the French Quarter – where snow is a rarity – it's hard not to embrace the spirit of the season.
It's hard to believe that I'm still working on the third edition of Moon New Orleans. After all, it's been over a year since the process began, and I've never taken so long to complete a travel guide. For a combination of reasons – including the fact that, as a native of the Big Easy, I'm even more concerned about this book than I've been about my other ones – it just hasn't been the smoothest of projects. Whenever I feel like running for the hills, however, three things stop me: pride in my work, the possibility of disappointing my editors as well as my hubby, and my lifelong passion for this one-of-a-kind city. Taking a stroll through my beloved French Quarter – where Dan and I live for much of the year – certainly helps, too, as does listening to one of my favorite New Orleans albums, from Dr. John's Goin' Back to New Orleans (1992) to Tab Benoit's Best of the Bayou Blues (2006) to Lucky Devil (2010), the debut album of local favorite Meschiya Lake and the Little Big Horns (pictured above). These and seven other albums always have the power to transport me to New Orleans (if, of course, I'm not already here) and inspire me to share a few stories about this amazing town. If you're curious about my other album picks, check out the latest entry on my American Nomad blog.
As a native of the Crescent City, I've long been a fan of trains and streetcars. During college, I relished taking Amtrak's City of New Orleans to Chicago and back, and since I was a kid, I've enjoyed numerous rides aboard the Big Easy's historic streetcar line. So, it's no wonder that I often have railways on the brain. If you're a fan, too, take a look at my picks for some of the finest railroad museums along America's East Coast, in the Midwestern and Southern states, and throughout the American West – not to mention some of the best trolley museums in the country.
This week, Moon.com is running a contest in celebration of road trips. To enter, you simply have to share your favorite road trip song with the folks at Moon. The deadline is tomorrow evening at 5 p.m. PST, and the winner will receive a free 8GB iPod Nano and a Moon guidebook of his or her choice.
As I've noted before on this blog, I feel incredibly blessed to have the hubby that I do. Over the nearly 12 years that we've been together, he's cooked me lots of yummy meals, randomly brought home flowers, listened to my troubles, shared my passion for cinema and travel, tirelessly supported my desire to be a writer, and, most importantly, tolerated my rather high-strung nature – especially whenever a crazy travel guide deadline looms. Even now, as I struggle to complete the manuscript and maps for my latest guide, Moon New Orleans, he's doing his best to support my perfectionistic work ethic while encouraging me to get proper sleep and venture out into the world on occasion.
Although I'm a bit late in doing this, I'd like to take a moment to promote a wonderful new anthology of short stories, novel excerpts, poems, and other enticing writings. Published by the folks at The Literary Lab and dubbed the Notes from Underground Anthology, this intriguing collection presents a wide array of stories, one of which is written by my online pal (and helpful beta reader), J.B. Chicoine. Having purchased the book through Kindle for my new iPhone, I've already read several of the entries, including Bridget's heartbreaking story (an excerpt from an unpublished novel that I badly want to read), so I can say without a doubt that I highly recommend this collection – which captivated and entertained me immensely during the long drive between Los Angeles, where my husband and I recently ran our sixth annual Beverly Hills Shorts Festival, and our home in New Orleans.
A few days ago, I received an unsettling email from the nonprofit organization Friends of New Orleans. Apparently, Newsweek had published a list of America's top 10 dying cities in late January, and poor, beleaguered New Orleans was at the top of the list. Being a native of the Big Easy and a part-time resident of the French Quarter, I couldn't help but question the magazine's motive in publishing such a one-dimensional piece. So, although I'm a month behind the times, I felt a strong urge to discuss this misleading article on my American Nomad blog, which I did late last night. After all, though it's true that cities like Grand Rapids, Flint, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and New Orleans have suffered population declines over the past decade, demographic information isn't the only factor that determines a city's worth, especially from a traveler's perspective.
While I know it's not true, it often seems as though I'm never not working. Whether writing or promoting travel guides, working on articles and blog posts, or helping my husband, Dan, with one of his film fests, it feels as though I never make much time for fun – whether that might be reading a book, going to the movies, listening to live music with Dan, or writing some purposeless fiction. I often have to remind myself – due, in large part, to my husband's prodding – that fun is a necessary part of every day, which is why I appreciate creative outlets such as Come In Character, where authors are free to write through their characters' voices, no matter if they're from published stories or works-in-progress. Unfortunately, I haven't had much time for CIC as of late – in fact, I'd been on hiatus since before the holidays – but last week, I decided that the hiatus had lasted long enough. On Friday, I posted the start of a group story – a winter's tale, to be exact – and while my fellow writers have already begun contributing, the story's not over yet. So, if you find yourself overworked at the moment, and in need of a story break, feel free to stop by, too!
Lately, though, I've felt most grateful for my four grandparents – all of whom were a huge part of my life, especially during my childhood. Although they're never far from my mind, they've been even more present in my thoughts this year. Perhaps that's because I lost the last two – my paternal grandfather and my maternal grandmother – within the last six months. My grandpa (pictured here with my dad and stepmom), whom I called Paw-Paw Al as a child, passed away in mid-June, just a few days before Father's Day, while my grandma, otherwise known as Maw-Maw Deanne, died less than two weeks ago, just 10 days following her 88th birthday.
While I love and miss each of them greatly, losing Deanne (pictured here with me and my mom) was perhaps the hardest blow – and not just because she was the last to go. She was also, if truth be told, my favorite. Her house – which was lost in Hurricane Katrina – always felt like home to me. While growing up, I spent countless hours with her, reading books, watching our favorite shows, eating our favorite treats, singing our favorite songs. We were so close that we even had a shared tune – “You Are My Sunshine” – which, appropriately enough, was written by former Louisiana governor Jimmie Davis.
As other reviewers have noted, The Crazies is a surprisingly intelligent horror film. Spanning just a few days in the life (and unfortunate demise) of a small town in Iowa – due to an inadvertent contamination of the communal water supply – the movie offers an effective balance between terror and tragedy. Part of the film's success can be attributed to the solid cast, adeptly led by Timothy Olyphant – a skilled actor who manages to insert moments of humor in an otherwise serious film about a fatal government mistake and the callous cover-up that ensues. But, as I told my mom on the phone tonight, it's also surprisingly less gory than I expected, a testament to the filmmakers' desire to keep story and character development paramount.
Shutter Island, which we saw afterward, is an equally entertaining film, based on a novel by Dennis Lehane. Despite the fact that the story's climactic twist is apparent from the beginning, the experience is still well worth the price of admission (which is, by the way, a heck of a lot higher in Los Angeles than in northern Michigan). Given that it's filmed almost entirely on an isolated island during inclement weather, the movie is certainly rich with atmosphere. In fact, director Martin Scorsese has effectively used the environment to heighten the story's tension, leading the main character, a troubled U.S. marshal, through dangerous settings, such as a blustery cemetery and a perilous cliff face. Beyond the atmosphere, the film is full of excellent performances, from the likes of Ben Kingsley, Max von Sydow, Michelle Williams, Jackie Earle Haley, and Ted Levine, not to mention engaging cameos by Patricia Clarkson and Elias Koteas. Of course, the star of the film is Leonardo DiCaprio, who gives a heart-wrenching performance in what is ultimately a poignant psychological drama.
But movies weren't the only diversion we experienced this weekend. Last night, we attended a Lost panel discussion at the Saban Theatre in Beverly Hills. Part of this year's Paley Fest, an annual event hosted by the Paley Center for Media in celebration of modern television, the panel featured several members of the cast and creative team, including actors Terry O'Quinn (John Locke), Michael Emerson (Ben Linus), and Nestor Carbonell (Richard Alpert), plus executive producers Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse – all of whom offered amusing answers to the questions posed by the moderator and audience. Of course, no definitive secrets were revealed about the final season of this simultaneously compelling and annoying show, but we did get a chance to see a clip of next week's episode, which was cool. More than anything, I was delighted by the rapport between O'Quinn and Emerson, who play fierce rivals on the series, and frankly, I welcomed another night away from my laptop.
After much encouragement from my online buddies, I've decided to take a break from blogging this week. Unfortunately, it's not because I want to kick back and relax (well, I do want to, but it's just not possible). No, it's because I have a lot of work ahead for my latest travel guide – including packing up and heading to southern Florida in eight days – and I'm simply too overwhelmed to add blogging to my to-do list.
Well, that was one mighty exciting football match today. Until the New Orleans Saints nailed the touchdown that threw the game into overtime, I seriously thought their perfect record was in jeopardy. And I could feel the tension everywhere – my heart, my head, my feet. In fact, I kept scurrying out of the room where the hubby was listening to a radio broadcast of this nail-biter. And while I’m happy – ecstatically so! – that the Saints won in overtime by three points, I can’t help but wonder... is it healthy to internalize something like this? A game over which I have absolutely no control.
My thirty-third birthday is tomorrow. According to my mom, I was born at 10:21 a.m. in Metairie – a suburb of New Orleans – in a place once called Lakeside Hospital. I know this because, every year, she calls me precisely at 10:21 a.m. – just to sing me a bar of the “Happy Birthday” song. I must admit that, despite the fact that I’m in my thirties, I have yet to tire of this tradition. Actually, I find it kind of sweet.
But life isn’t about such lofty ambitions. It’s about all the little moments – the memorable experiences that fill each day – and today was filled with plenty. Dan and I drove from New Orleans to Baton Rouge to spend the morning with my teeny-tiny grandmother and the afternoon with my mom. Following a Thanksgiving-like lunch at mom’s house (complete with smoked ham, cranberry sauce, spinach casserole, potato salad, and pumpkin pie), Mom, Dan, and I saw the 3-D presentation of A Christmas Carol, which I thoroughly enjoyed. And then, as with any birthday weekend in my family, more food was involved.
So, despite my misgivings about getting older, I’m grateful for what I have: a loving family, good friends, and an awesome kitty (who was in fact last year’s birthday “present”). Besides, it just so happens that I was born on Mark Twain’s birthday – which I like to consider a positive omen that my fiction-writing dreams will someday come true. Hey, whatever works, right?
First up is the Humane Award, which Deb L. Strange bestowed upon me in late October. I’m not certain that I deserve such an award – especially since my blog focuses on the people, places, and entities that interest or inspire me, and not on humanity or causes or the “big things” in life. But I feel grateful nonetheless, so thanks, Deb!
The second award that I’ve recently received is the Honest Scrap Award, given to me earlier this month by Donna Hole. And, as with the above award, I feel incredibly grateful for the nod.
1. Thursday night’s party at the Kerry Irish Pub was a lot of fun. Busy, yes, but I was still able to hear some terrific acoustic music (thanks, Chip Wilson!), meet several friendly out-of-town filmmakers, and snatch a mini-muffuletta and a couple “turtles” (shortbread cookies with pecans and a dollop of fudge) from the dwindling food spread. 
3. Our volunteers were awesome, as always. I loved catching up with those from previous years – like wacky Gary, affectionately known as the “dancing doctor” – and I was delighted to meet new folks, too – such as Tina, the model-turned-chef.
5. As usual, the post-screening question-and-answer sessions were enlightening and hilarious. Filmgoers heard funny behind-the-scenes tales, learned a little bit about filmmaking, and discovered the inspiration behind many of the films on display.
7. Although one feature – an amazing film called How I Got Lost – only attracted a handful of cinema buffs (darn you, Saints!), most of the screenings had at least thirty folks in the theater, and three of them – Trapped in Katrina, The Magistical, and King of Oak Street – lured well over a hundred people each.
9. The theater staff – in particular, Brian, Jack, and David – were fun and accommodating, which definitely helped to minimize the stress of this whirlwind event.
