DIARY OF A GIRL-NEXT-DOOR HEAVY METAL NOVELIST
June
26, 2007
Last week was my first week of vacation from my new day job, which isn't
very new anymore. I used one of the days to teach a class called "From
American Icons to American Idols: The History, Philosophy and Performance
of Rock & Roll" to a local enrichment program for the developmentally
disabled. What a blast! The students were part of a 3-day program that
provides "real college classes" and even a graduation ceremony
for the students. My rock & roll buddy, Lisa, taught with me, and
used her art background to help the students make their own music instruments
so we could film a music video. I love my new job, but this was one of
the best things I've done all year for the campus.
This week, I'm heading back to Pennsylvania to see friends and sing my heart out. I just lost 10 pounds, so I'm feeling a little more fabulous, and I'm ready for a a burger at Captain Gus's. Life might just be perfect.
June
28, 2007
I heart Lancaster. I do. There is not a week that goes by in New York
that I don't pine a little for my former hometown. At the same time, I
felt anxiety squeeze my chest and release raw adrenaline into my bloodstream
when I entered the vicinity of my former life. I did my best to avoid
the bad ghosts and bask in the glory I remembered most fondly.
New York has the Susan B. Anthony House, while my former day job administration didn't have any women in the top ranks until last year. At the same time, the thrift stores in NYS stink like Karl Rove. As soon as I crossed the border into Lancaster, I hit the gigundo-Salvation Army, which is so glam it color codes the apparel. I immediately went to the clothing that matched my current (beloved) day job's school colors so I can sport my spirit with the rest of the campus community every Friday.
After lunch and coffee with former (beloved) colleagues, I headed to the house of my best buddy Mike Horn. New York has the Eastman School of Music, but it has nothing like this Horn. He made a delicious dinner, introduced me to the über-fun "Cash Cab" and chauffeured me to my (beloved) Thursday night Lancaster hangout–the Villa Nova sports/karaoke bar. From the owner to the host to the die-hard regulars who still frequent the Thursday songfest, I just wanted to pack them all in my car and take them back to the Empire State with me. The return felt seamless and effortless.
I miss Lancaster. A lot. But last year, at the end of my stay in this wonderful city, I knew I had to find substantial meaning in my world. Love found me, and I've found that loving without fear is fantastic. Investing myself in a new job has been glorious, to the extent that I used my first week of vacation this month to work on work, which was so fun I could almost sing about it. I'm not sure when I'll get back her again, but I know that when I do I will ache, but that's okay. Maybe Lancaster aches a little for me, too.
June
30, 2007
It's my last night in the hometown that isn't my home. I've seen good
friends, eaten my favorite foods and greeted countless ghosts. Sometimes
I remember exact events, like playing spectator at my friend Matt's kickball
games. Other times, old emotions returned, like the contented fatigue
that would pass over me as I drove home to my condo through the moonlit
city blocks of Lancaster after a night of laughing with friends. I've
immersed myself in the good memories, although I find myself repeating
certain stories about my sanity-saving work buddy Lisa or the ever-honorable
Buffalo Sabres. I've told a few PA friends that I've noticed that people
in Upstate New York have rather dull senses of humor, but I've mentioned
more times that the students I teach have a niceness factor far beyond
anything I encountered in Amish country. I'm thrilled to have visited
this wonderful town and my wonderful friends, but it's time to go home
and build more memories and teach the locals a few jokes.
July
31, 2007
Holy crap, it's been a month since I crack open my website. I didn't have
the right to write for a while because I haven't done any authoring work
this summer, but I certainly have been busy. First, I have a Harry
Potter
Harry Potter murdered my sex life! My sweetheart and I ordered two copies of the Deathly Hallows so we could dive right in when the books arrived, but when last Saturday rolled around, our neighborhood owl only delivered one copy. We've both put in long hours at our day jobs of late, and Rowling is so dang talented, we had no option but to read (each of us reading one chapter, then relinquishing the tome to the other) until our eyelids refused to stay open. As we closed in on the final chapters a few days ago, we had to abandon Harry and his gang o' good guys so we could make a 2-day trip to attend "Old Timers Weekend" in the little town where Sweetheart and I grew up. Last night, we finally got back to town and hit page 759. I won't tell you whether Harry died or not, but I will let it slip that my honey and I put an end to Mr. Potter's murderous ways.
Although my writing is still in moratorium, I'm exercising my communication skills. I've invested myself in an American Sign Language class this summer, and I can't get enough. I live in a city in which a significant number of people are deaf, and I feel like I've been cut off from my own community. Now, when I jog around my neighborhood, I fingerspell every license plate and talk to myself with my hands. When I'm driving, I have a hard time keeping my hands on the wheel while I'm trying to sign every tenth word in the songs on the radio. As soon as I've learned "Rock & Roll All Nite," I'll know I have it made.
Despite my lack of promotional effort, I have news about Won't Get Fooled Again. In November, I'm going to be Author of the Month (or something like that) at a local library, and it sounds like they want to do some fun publicity. Hooray! Here's what troubles me, though: I've enjoyed living a life that isn't defined by the Group That Shall Not Be Named for a year. People in New York know me as just plain Colette, and that has allowed me to build my professional relationship without the stigma of the dude with the long tongue. On the other hand, associating myself with such an iconic presence makes it easier to get press. More press = more book sales. More book sales = more inspiration to finish my second novel. I'm open to advice, if you have it.
September
1, 2007
August, to a college administrator, is the same as April to an accountant.
I'm exhausted, but I feel like I just gave birth to 3200 new students.
I was so tired yesterday that after a presentation I gave to about 300
newbies and their parents, I said, "If I were The Who, this would
be the part of the show when I'd trash the stage, but I suppose I should
just say 'Welcome.'" I think
they laughed, but I'm not quite sure. As far as I know, I still have a
job.
My classes start in two days, and I've decided to use a strategy of shameless sucking up during the first couple weeks. I practiced last week when I presented orientation workshops, and I think it's working. I've usually proven to be fairly hip in my job, but I've found that it's harder now that I have a little gray hair. It doesn't help that Gene Simmons just turned 58. "Hey kids, I know Gene Simmons!" isn't exactly a hot opener with a bunch of freshmen. "Hey kids, I go home to an analytical chemist every night!" actually does grab their attention. Good for students. I'm glad that smart = cool these days.
September
13, 2007
Put that hammer away. They say that authors get two years to promote a
book before the public loses interest. I'm not really a promotional dynamo
right now, but I have been chosen November Author of the Month
at a local university. Hooray! Won't
Get Fooled Again will have a new life.
Classes are rolling along, and I love them. I decided to tell the students about myself and admit the KISS stuff. They've been good sports and I've noticed some web hits coming from college dorms. I just have to hold my breath and hope I'm not too much of a freak.
My buddy, Heath, is about
the jump on the book promotion bandwagon with his hot-off-the-press novel
Missing
Persons 101
October
6, 2007
In exactly one month, I'll be doing my first real book promotion in about
a year. I think I'm ready. Earlier this week, I had lunch with a professor
at my day job, and he said "I enjoyed Won't
Get Fooled Again, by the way." He's the second person in
my new hometown that has mentioned that the book cover is a little too
risqué, but I still love it. Maybe those comments are good fodder
for my presentation. Students who have heard about my book signing have
asked, "Aren't you excited about your book?" which makes me
think they think the book is brand new. Maybe I have two more years
of promotional opportunities if I play my cards right.
This afternoon, I had lunch with Steve Wozniak. There were other people there, too, of course, but it was still pretty cool. I talked to him about his fledgling friendship with Kathy Griffin, with whom I feel a certain affinity. I like her even more now, if she really is buddies with the wonderful Woz.
Last weekend, I was in DC, touring the Holocaust Museum and thinking that everything else in the world was probably pretty unimportant.
October
21, 2007
I'm getting more excited about my "Meet the Author" appearance
next month in Rochester. I'm going to be the first novelist ever featured
in the library series at the Rochester Institute
of Technology. I hope I can convince them that fiction writers have
something intelligent to offer to the world.
This was my first weekend off in since mid-September. I spent yesterday looking for shoes on Ebay and this morning carving my first pumpkin. When I was a kid, we used to draw on our pumpkins with magic markers so my mom could use the pumpkins later for pies and bread. My carving skills weren't awful, but I didn't admit to my family that I was going more for Dracula than doofus. Luckily, cute is as good as gruesome in this household.
October
24, 2007
"It's beautiful, but can you cut off my legs?"
That was the feedback I gave to the Wallace Library in Rochester, New York today. My famous fishnets photo is prominently displayed on their website, and I'm still feeling a little protective of my former sexiness. The younger, skinnier, hungrier Colette LOVED the fishnets shot, but I've worked hard for a year to earn my credentials as a stodgy old monogamously partnered college marm. Lord help me if my students knew that a few years ago I was trying to pass myself off as an intellectual hottie.
I'm cringing more than any of you right now, I promise. (Continue)
