First I took a photo of myself with thirteen books that meant something to me.
Okay now that I got that out of the way, here's one where you can actually see the books and not simply the narcissist with the camera and a mad penchant for photo editing.
1. Steven King's
On Writing given to me by
Lola Sharp.
2.
The 3 a.m. Epiphany by Brian Kiteley, a gift from
Kirie.
4.
Do Not Disturb - Hotel Sex Stories, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. My friend
Lillian Ann Slugocki has a deliciously erotic story included.
5. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. One of my favorite stories ever.
6.
The Adderall Diaries by
Stephen Elliott. Writer's crush does not even begin to describe it.
7. Betsy Lerner's
The Forest for the Trees. This book and
Betsy's blog opened up a whole new world of friends to me and I'm forever grateful.
8. The Pat Hobby Stories by F.Scott Fitzgerald. I can still see myself reading these as I munched a turkey on rye with lettuce, tomato and mayo in the cafeteria of the Rotary International building in Evanston, Illinois. Back then it never would have occurred to me that I would take an active interest in the writing of screenplays and scripts.
9. Elizabeth Berg's Say When. It's the first of Berg's books I read. I have quite the collection now.
11.
The Preacher's Bride by
Jody Hedlund. As a sore-headed agnostic, I am clearly not the target market for this book, but I was lucky enough to win this from Jody's blog and by page three, was a fan. Between topnotch research and wonderful prose, Jody writes the kind of historical fiction that has broad appeal.
12. The New Bedside, Bathtub and Armchair Companion to Agatha Christie. It's full of detail about the novels and the movies. And Christie's relationship with her characters.
13. Philip Roth's The Plot Against America. I love Roth's novels. This one knocked my sandals off.
And then I had an email exchange with
Randal who gave me an idea. He asked if I'd be photographed with thirteen bags of kitty litter? While that would have mass appeal, I'm sure, I don't have thirteen bags of litter hanging around. (I wish!) I thought about other items I could photograph myself with, but ended up dismissing them mostly because I didn't have 13 of this or that.
1. Thirteen cats. (We're six short and I intend to keep it that way.)
2. Thirteen sex toys. (Where would I hide that many?)
3. Thirteen clean towels. (It is to dream.)
4. Thirteen whistles. (I wish I had thirteen whistles!)
5. Thirteen vintage cars. (Alas I am not Jay Leno.)
6. Thirteen jars of olives. (Not even on my best stockpiling trips did I snag that many jars of olives!)
7. A baker's dozen of donuts. (Come one, like they'd survive past the first photo intact?)
Having hit all those brick walls, I went with this which I fondly call
The Writer's Life. The sound I was making was like a cross between the yowling the cats make when I don't feed them fast enough and Fran Drescher's laugh.
Geoffrey makes glorious sounds. Please go and tell him that his butt looks fine.
Summer offers
swoon worthy sunsets. SWOONWORTHY.