DIARY OF A GIRL-NEXT-DOOR HEAVY METAL NOVELIST
November
3 , 2007
Walking around the buildings at my day job last week, I saw posters of
myself hanging all around me. Thankfully, I haven't seen any mustaches
added to my picture. I'm excited about my book
signing, and I have no intention of correcting anyone who says "Congratulations
on the new book! You must be so excited!" Writers are told that they
have two years to promote their work before the public loses all interest.
Since I've geographically relocated, I feel like I've been given an extra
two years, and the clock starts ticking on Tuesday. It's not exactly Peter
Criss's nine lives, but it's better than being tossed with the litter.
Last night, I was the luck recipient of 3 box seats at a local hockey game. While the games are high-profile to the region, the tickets were given in desperation. "Colette, I can't give these tickets to anyone who deserves them. Do you want to sit in the dignitary box?" Since my book has been promoted this week, it looked like I'd actually been specially selected to sit in the fishbowl. Had I known, I would have worn leopard.
Speaking of... Now I have to go contemplate the week's biggest dilemma: What should I wear on Tuesday? I have to teach a class in the morning, attend my book event in the afternoon, and eat dinner at the university president's house that night. Is there a look that says "matronly -- but authentically rock & roll; dignified -- but not a poseur!" When I talk to students about exploring their multiple and complex passions, I don't recall mentioning the mind-numbing wardrobe dilemmas.
My buddy, Heath P. Boice,
is the proud author of the amusing and suspenseful Missing
Persons 101
November
17, 2007
Two weeks ago, I was the belle of the ball, being the star of my first
book signing in quite a long time. The event was a lot of fun. The hosts
told me that they average about 15 attendees, and we packed the room with
35 supporters. The weather was awful, so anyone who came out was drenched,
so I was especially grateful for their participation.
The strangest part of the program for me was watching "Living the Fantasy" for the first time in a couple years. I'm incredibly proud of the film, but seeing the old me, complete with my beloved leopard cap, was almost embarrassing. She was once the person who learned to balance the opposing parts of her identity, and now she is one of the identities I don't relate to anymore. Darn this happy life of mine. Good job, good friends, good relationship...
Today, I got in a good workout raking leaves.
Hmmm. Maybe I do miss that old gal who lived in a luxury condo where someone raked, shoveled and vacuumed. I just adored my penthouse view. Darling, I love you, but at least give me a riding mower for Christmas.
December
8, 2007
It's been a fun fun fun month! After my November book signing, I was invited
to be the keynote speaker for a staff of 150 college students for whom
I was to deliver a speech about making their dreams come true. I'm used
to doing more interactive speaking engagements, so talking for 40 minutes
straight had me a little worried. I packed the remarks with as much corny
self-deprecating material as I could, and I prayed that the crowd would
laugh with me. They were wonderful! During the Q&A, they had
me reminiscing about working with Randy
Wilkins and meeting KISS for the first time, but they also had me
confessing that during my own quest for a book contract, I didn't enjoy
everything in the moment they way I hope they will when they make their
fantasies into realities.
Fired up, I came back home and hunkered down with the manuscripts (four, count 'em four) I've been working on recently. These will be part of a nonfiction series, so I don't even worry about finding a publisher. If they're a hit (and they will be!) I have three more to add to the series. Hell, yeah.
This weekend, I've been curled up under a blanket watching the 24-hour KISS marathon on VH1 Classic. It's as if KISS is telling me to get back to my writing. I promise, I'm listening guys, and I'm enjoying being back in the lemon light. If all goes according to plan, the lime light is the next step.
One of the interesting things about being back in the public, even in small ways, is the Icky Guys. Two weeks ago, I heard from two different men with the same profile. If they were to write a how-to manacle for other Icksters, it would go something like this:
- Send an email to Colette that says something like, "I'd really like to learn more about writing. Could you give me some advice?"
- If Colette falls for your initial communication, write to her a couple more times being as professional as possible.
- If she is kind enough to write back, use your third of fourth email to ask something like, "Hey, baby, how would you like to be my personal English teacher? You could wear something sexy and blah blah blah..."
Yep. Two in one week. My usual strategy for dealing with the grossies is to cease communication. I think that in the future, I'm going to refer these @ssh*les to my actual students, who would rather do anything other than meet with me each semester. Perhaps the students could stage an intervention and smack some sense into these knuckleheads. Professor Shaw doesn't play.
December
29, 2007
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 2007 was an exciting time of redefinition,
but in many ways I finally feel like I'm back to being Colette. My creativity
is popping, my old clothes fit again and I'm ready to unload my old bachelorette
pad in PA. Santa brought me leg warmers, warm PJs and woolly socks so
I can finally admit that this Upstate New York thing is my life and not
just a snowy dream.
My most recent publicity campaign has been for my day job. I nervously tack part in a photo shoot for a magazine that has historically shed a poor light on my office. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of posing as the face of an unpopular department, especially when the photographer asked me to give him serious facial expressions. Doesn't he know I look better with a goofy smile? Luckily, the article was positive, and the editors were kind when choosing my photo. I swear, the even airbrushed my forehead wrinkles away. Here is the magazine for your inspection.
I'm making steady progress on the books I've been working on. Pretty soon, I'll be ready to jump back into my Won't Get Fooled Again mode of writing 750 words per night, so I can spend my summer vacation writing query letters to publishers who specialize in higher education. I've heard that the pitching process for nonfiction is easier, and I'm positive that the publicity bandwagon will be a cinch to jump on compared to the process of selling a novel. 2008 will be a literary cake walk. Yep.
January
6, 2007
On New Year's Eve, I spent the afternoon writing my will. Among other
things, my sister will be the lucky recipient of the subsidiary rights
to Won't
Get Fooled Again and my man will get my convertible. I must say,
contemplating all my final bequests made me feel a lot like God. I started
thinking creatively about how I would give the urine-challenged cat my
ex-husband brought home back to the rightful owner. I'm sure I could think
of more wily plans, but for now I have my basic assets accounted for.
I'm dangerously close to finishing the outline of my next books. Unfortunately, I've been hooked on NHL hockey and X-Box over the holidays. My inner child is holding me back, but I'm not sure who would kill those ogres and protect the universe if I didn't.
I just got word that after a two year break, the Baltimore KISS Expo is coming back to life. Yay! It's the best and the nicest. Perhaps I need to plan a trip to Maryland this fall.
January
12, 2007
Done! I now have a working outline for my books. Now, I have to actually
write them. I think that will be the easy part. I'm writing a series of
training manuals with a theme similar to "101 Ways To..." Coming
up with 101 (404, actually) ideas has been time consuming, but composing
them will be fun - and, hopefully, lucrative.
January
20, 2007
This weekend, I painted my hair orange to join in solidarity with a rabid
group of Tiger fans, and lost a little tiger cat that's been a part of
my family for 12 years. Little Sid sat on my arm each night when I typed
my novel, to the extent that I sometimes wondered whether she was channeling
some spirit of writing that helped me finish my book. She also learned
to turn my bedside radio on so if my alarm failed to go off on a Saturday
I could still awake to fill her food dish at 7:00 a.m. She was a cute,
conniving, cuddly creature I shall not forget. If there is a kitty cat
heaven, it's full of cereal bowls Thurman Munson has left for Sidney
to lick clean. (Continue)
