Gwen's blog

Current Events

May 3, Houston: The big one -- the Inprint reading -- occurs at the Alley Theatre on Monday, May 3. Do not miss it or you'll be sorry. I'm not kidding -- I'm going to say the craziest, most intellectual yet hilarious stuff I can think of, and I'll be sharing the stage with the ultra sexy Oscar Casares, too.

June 24, Houston: I'm one of the peeps scheduled to read at Poison Pen, at Houston's famous Poison Girl bar. Besides me, everyone there will be ultra, *super* sexy. Come see me and drink!

June 26, Washington, DC: I'll be reading at the American Library Association conference. Come on down.

My other blog: Go read my the Houston Chronicle parenting blog (or my ChronMomBlog, as I like to call it) and make sure my kids won't resent me more than other kids resent their own parents.

Buy my new novel, Lone Star Legend. Already did? Well, buy a few more for your friends, then. :)

Thursday, December 04, 2008
Now I have time to be stressed out.

I haven’t written here lately because I’ve been under some stress, and I never feel like talking on the blog (or to anyone) when I’m under stress. But now it’s all over, thank goshfully.

If I were in an airplane crash (God forbid; knock on wood), I already know exactly how I’d react. Cool and alert as hell, I’d put the oxygen mask on my face then put masks on everyone else. I’d pull out the floatation device seats, hand them out, calculate the distance, count it off “3, 2, 1, inhale!” and then swim everybody to safety. Then I’d go back for the more valuable plane cargo. Then I’d help with the rescue/recovery. Then I’d clearly and cogently debrief to the authorities.

Then, I’d go home, where I’m safe. Then, I’d go to the bathroom and throw up. I’d climb into bed, trembling, and cry. I’d cry for two hours, probably. Then I’d fall asleep and have a nightmare or two. Then I’d wake up and be ready to start a new day.

I’m guessing I’d do all this because that’s how I usually react in less major catastrophes. Except that I rarely throw up afterwards – it’s more like momentary nausea and retching.

Last week I finished my second novel and turned it in the night before deadline. (Extended deadline, actually, but that’s okay.) Also, last week, I had extreme Family Court drama that magically resolved itself on the same day that I turned in my novel.

And now I feel… relieved, right?

No! I feel stressed! I feel all knotted up and uptight and downtrodden. I feel crazy and unsafe. I feel scared.

I’ll probably try to cry a little bit tonight, before I go to sleep. But there’s hardly any time. I have a lot of stuff to move on to. I think I’ll just move on, instead, then. Sometimes I find that stress is the best distraction from my stress recovery. :)

(This is what you call Type A personality. This is what it takes for me to succeed. Don't feel sorry for me. Be happy for me that I'm this crazy, because the sickness is what makes the dreams come true.)

shout out to Carl Jung

Do you ever have a recurring bad situation that makes you question your existence and your karma and all that? And you think “Why does this keep happening to me?” because you believe everything happens for a reason, but you can’t think of one single reason for this crappy stuff to keep happening to you over and over again?

And then, finally, you find the one silver lining in the crappy thing, or you realize the one lesson it’s taught you?

And then, the moment you have that realization, the crappy thing stops happening?

Yeah. That’s happened to me a few times. It happened just the other day, in fact. And I’m very, very relieved that the crappy stuff seems to be over.

Thanks, Carl Jung!

good weekend

I’m excited about this weekend. Here’s what I plan to do:
  1. Go see that movie Milk

  2. Go to the Turkish restaurant with the super fabulous dolmas that are not called dolmas in Turkish

  3. Start shopping for xmas presents for my brats, since they’ll be at their dad’s house and therefore unable to see what I’m buying them

  4. Go to an Indian restaurant in my neighborhood that a real live Indian person from my neighborhood said was good. (I totally, gauchely but desperately, hit up an Indian stranger during a carpool ride. I was like, “I’m sorry to be rude, but are you Indian?” He was like, “Um… yes.” I was like, “Can you please tell me if there are any good Indian restaurants in our neighborhood, because the only one I’ve found isn’t very good.” And he was like, “Oh! Yeah, sure.” And then he told me where two of them are. Thank gosh, because I was starting to have the Butter Chicken DTs and I can’t be driving all the way instead 610 for treatment all the time.)


Despite my irrational feelings of discomfort, which are probably only Seasonal Affective Dysfunction, anyway, things are pretty awesome.

Even the carpooling has been awesome, lately. I’ve been talking with a lot of nice/cool/smart people, and that restores my faith in humanity and makes me happy to be alive. The other day I met a geologist who seemed like a really decent person. Another day I met a guy who’s sort of obsessed with ballroom dancing and he told me a lot of fascinating stuff about that scene. I met a Republican precinct judge’s wife and a former Democrat activist precinct judge on the same ride, and that was a good chat.

I continually meet legal secretaries who have hilarious or shocking stories to tell. I often talk with older peeps who have insightful viewpoints on local issues. Sometimes the people are witty and we laugh, and that’s good, to laugh with strangers.

Today a transplanted Floridian and I gave a woman advice on what to buy her grandkids for Christmas, and I felt like we did some serious good. Usually, if I’m driving, I just drive in silence. Especially with men, who don’t care if you talk or not. Also, I like to concentrate super hard on my driving, so that everyone is comfortable. I’m currently obsessed with learning to brake my van as smoothly as possible, because my van has annoyingly tough brakes. Sometimes, though, I’ll get yakky with people and talk away the miles. Either way, it’s good. I don’t mind my commute anymore, now that I’m doing the HOV all the time. Even when I’m not talking to people, there’s always a lot to see out the window. I love my city, despite its flaws, so it’s good.

Some of you might consider this big news.

My boyfriend (fiancé) is moving in with us. I feel like I already told y’all that, or like most people reading this assume he lives with me, anyway. But...

(saying this next part knowing, and knowing that you know, and knowing that you know that I know, that plans like this are likely to change and shift and grow)

we’re thinking about eloping now. Or just going to the courthouse or whatever.

See, we’ve never been as worried about the wedding as we were about the marriage, and particularly about the physical love nest. So we set a long engagement, and kind of set the timeline around the housing market. Because we didn’t feel we could be married until we’d secured a house in a certain area. And that’s not feasible until at least two years from now. So, while we were in deep talks about that, people around us were asking about the wedding. And we’d be like, “Um… two years from now… string quartet, samba band, and DJ.”

But now, the stars have aligned such that it makes more sense for us to live together in my house. And, now that that’s happening, we’re like, “Wait, why do we need a wedding, again?”

It’s kind of like: living together was the final step, so why do we need an expensive middle step? You know?

It’s kind of like: why spend on a wedding, money that would be better spent on, say, a trip to Europe? Where we could hire an Italian homeless person to pose as a priest for a few photos to send back home? You know?

So, that’s where it’s at right now. In case anyone’s interested in that aspect of this eleven-year-long narrative. Plans subject to change, of course. Subject to Pricing, Funds, and Comp. Everything on Earth is subject to change, right? Even rocks, albeit very slowly.

soon

(Every time I write “soon” for a subtitle, I think of the My Bloody Valentine song of the same name. Do you?)

Pretty soon, I’m going to announce dates/times/locations for readings for my novel, Houston, We Have a Problema, which is coming out January 9th.

I’ll go ahead and tell y’all right now that there aren’t going to be many physical readings. I feel guilty about this, because every time someone’s asked me in the past, I’ve been all glib, “East Chickenfoot, Arkansas? Yeah, sure, I’ll do a reading there in January or February.” But it’s not actually like that. My publicist peeps have done the math, and they think online and media efforts sell more books than physical readings around the country.

So… if you’re a book blogger or media peep who wants to review my book or interview me or otherwise be involved in some way when this book comes out, now is the time to tell me, so I can put you on the list or put you on the calendar. Actually, tell me also if you’re hosting any literary events or own a bookstore and would like to have me visit. I’m not supposed to invest a lot of time/energy/$ in readings out of state, but I am going to do a few, even if it’s only for the excuse to travel around a little and write it off on my taxes. :)

So, yeah. Contact me now. Our operators are waiting to take your call. Buy my product. Get a giant one for her pleasure and doesn’t leave you. All systems go. See you soon. And thanks.

Love,
Your blogger/author,
Gwen

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6:08 PM #

Comments:

 Aw, too bad. I can't wait to get my copy of the book (already pre-ordered) but just don't understand why you don't want to leave your house and kids and fiance and lose your job to come tour every po-dunk town including Cincinnati.

We are fortunate to have several Indian restaurants in my neighborhood. The first time I took an Indian co-worker to my favorite, I was all nervous because I really like this place but now I was going to find out that they actually had lousy Indian food. Fortunately, he said it was very good. Since then, I have taken many Indian co-workers, including my friend who usually doesn't like to eat out because she cooks better than the Indian restaurants and everywhere else is too bland for her. Even she likes to eat at Ambar India in Clifton in Cincinnati.

So if you came here to give a reading (having forsaken everything listed above), I would be glad to take you out for Indian.

M.R.


# posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 7:11 AM  

 I kinda thought fiance already lived there??? Silly girl, doesn't it make more sense economically??? ;-)

WHICH Indian restaurant?!?! PLEASE give a full report after you go so I can stop my Khyber Grill withdrawal symptoms...


# posted by Anonymous Jennifer : 10:34 AM  

 I had an announced elopement to the Caribbean, and skipped the wedding (although we did have a little party when we got back) and am firmly of the mind that it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. If you want me to send you a long drawn out proselytizing email about it, let me know!

I'm glad the stressful stuff has ended, even if you're still feeling the effects. I hope work is going okay for you.


# posted by Blogger kate : 12:45 PM  

 I'm hoping your book will be available at Chapters in Canada!


# posted by Blogger Emma in Canada : 2:34 PM  

 Yeah. Elope. Then throw a big party at a later date, if you want, or go on a vacation, or buy a car, or whatever. My husband and I went to the courthouse and out for dim sum afterwards. Fun, cheap, and we got to wear whatever we wanted (black; I carried a cactus in lieu of a bouquet).


# posted by Blogger Belle Plain : 3:53 PM  

 I just love the picture of you being "married" by the homeless Italian man.


# posted by Blogger ShoeGirl : 3:55 PM  

 M.R.C.: That's awesome, that y'all have Indian food that good. That's always the real test, isn't it -- whether or not the people of that ethnicity will eat the food.

Dude -- if Grand Central would spring for it, I would love to tour every podunk town in America and all the restaurants in them. But for that, I guess I'll have to apply for a show on the Food Network, after all. :I

Jennifer: Oh, it definitely makes more sense economically, but there were way more considerations than that. Also, I have to say that it was nice using his Midtown place as a weekend pad.

The Good Indian Restaurants:
1. Dak Shin on 249 and Cypress
2. Nameless Indo-Chinese buffet on 249 and 1960, I think he said. Didn't memorize that one because he said it was like Indian but with more sweet sauces... which sounded to me like Indonesian, which I don't care for as much. But he said he liked it.

The Not Very Good Indian Buffet:
1. Highway 6, by Big Lots and the old Tortuga
Good service, though.

Khyber is awesome, but I love Shiva, in the Village, something fierce.


# posted by Blogger Gwen : 4:29 PM  

 Kate: Thank you. You aren't the first person who's told me they didn't regret eloping one bit. But I didn't really believe it until lately. Now I definitely see the advantage of foregoing all that planning stress. (And going to Europe, instead.) (Although the Caribbean sounds just as awesome.)

Emma: I'm sure it will be. Well, I hope it will be. Are you in Toronto? If so, I'll bring one for you next time I visit my peeps there.

Belle: That sounds awesome. I think I'd wear jeans and carry a single peony. But dim sum afterwards, hell yes. Y'all are smart.

Shoe Girl: That's been cracking me up just thinking of it. :)


# posted by Blogger Gwen : 4:40 PM  

 Hey Gwen, why don't you elope to Toronto while on a book tour?

I had a small wedding and didn't carry any flowers but I totally would have carried a cactus if I had thought of it. Damn, that's a great idea!

- maggie


# posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 7:18 PM  

 We had a really small wedding and then went to dinner at a restaurant we liked. We could have done it even smaller, but our fams would have been ticked. Do exactly what you want. It's your day. Also, thanks for the Jungian wisdom. It kinda gave me the strength to not give up. Plus, I like your carpool stories. It sounds like speed dating, but way more interesting.


# posted by Blogger autonomy as a guiding principle : 1:32 PM  

 I think Maggie's on to something. You could get married on top of the CN Tower! And Tad needs to see Toronto.

If you want to stay closer to home, New Orleans is pretty amazing for a wedding. While we were getting married in City Park, a swan landed in the water behind us. Our judge said she could have married us pretty much anywhere we wanted, including in front of the police station, which looks kind of like a wedding cake.

In Toronto, you need a permit even to take wedding photos in a park. When all the news coverage of serial killers Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka was going on, an old co-worker of mine realized they'd got married on the same day, and he recognized the park they'd all done their wedding photos at. Then he was terrified he'd show up in the background of one of their photos and people would think he hangs out with serial killers.

That probably wouldn't happen to you guys, though.

-Cate


# posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 6:05 AM  

 I got married last year - wish we'd skipped the ceremony and used that money on something else. It was such a headache.

Agreement on the nameless Indo-Chinese buffet at 1960@249. It's pretty good. I especially like the battered broccoli in that red sauce. No idea what it's called, but I could go there and just eat platefuls of that.


# posted by Anonymous curvature : 9:53 AM  

 I already have your book! HEE!

But I did pre-order it for my sister. That's how much I loved it. Because my sister? She rocks.


# posted by Blogger That Chick Over There : 8:47 PM  

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