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Tuesday, September 27, 2005 ( 10:18 AM ) Rebecca Oddly, every damn guy in my novel is turning out to have blonde hair. That's because, in real life, at least until recently, every guy I dated had hair black as the night. So, in my oh-so-autobiographical-novel, I've had to go through and turn all these dark-haired beauties (and beasts) into something else, lest they come back and sue my a*s. Blonde, blonde, blonde! The book is full of dirty-blondes, bleach blondes, blue eyes, and hazel eyes, when in fact, the men of Breakup Babe were really raven-haired and brown-eyed. Oh who cares? In other news, I sent the revised draft off to my editor today! So tell me, WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW? There will be one more round of revisions after this, then the copyedit, but my editor will be on vacation for ten days and...well, I've been working on this book every single day for the last two years so I am rather at a loss for how to fill my time here, people. I suppose I could also actually try to learn how to play the piano before my big gig in November. Or work on the next book. Breakup Babe the sequel, in which BB becomes a nun. Seriously, how does anyone ever navigate this mid-thirties dating game? How in the world do people end up getting married? It seems, quite literally, impossible - based on my own experiences of the last few years - that two people in their thirties get it together to stay together - but then again the idea that I might one day be a published novelist seemed impossible not so long ago. One down, one to go. | # E-mail Breakup Babe Wednesday, September 21, 2005 ( 6:41 PM ) Rebecca
So different from my own urban life! A condo awash in city lights but empty of life except for my own and the occasional unsuspecting male that I can lure onto the Red Couch O' Love. Plenty of time on my hands to fill with nothing but me me me. Lots of uninterrupted sleep, cocktails, and nights on the town. And a TV that gets three channels. Hmm. One is more "exciting," but one has lots more love in it. Not that I feel jealous. I don't, really. Maybe I'm misguided but I still have hope I'll figure out my way in the world of love and family to end up with the configuration that suits me best. The surprising thing was, I really liked those babies and I am not a baby person. Throw me in a room with toddlers and I'm happy as a clam. But babies are too small and mushy and bendy and I don't know what to do with them. They also don't know my name and don't clap when they see me like GalPal #2s darling daughter. But I didn't break either of them and I didn't even mind getting up in the middle of the night to help feed them! Maybe that was because of the Tivo we watched at 2 a.m. or maybe it was because it was nice to take care of someone other than myself for once in my life. In any case, it put a bunch of new love in my heart, which, I have to say, was getting just a little bit cold from lack of use. | # E-mail Breakup Babe Wednesday, September 14, 2005 ( 11:45 AM ) Rebecca Finally! I will have my rock star debut here in November! Now I must decide to wear. It is a very important decision since I must choose a sexy outfit that will distract from my lack of skill! I could take Mister Hand's suggestion in the last round of comments to "get naked" but, even so, I couldn't exactly start out that way or that takes all the guesswork out of it. Audience members need to be kept in suspense. "Will the keyboard player strip or won't she?!" In other news, me and my little book are trying to end our codependent relationship. We are quite sick of each other yet can't seem to part. After all, we've been together for more than two years now! We still get up and go to the coffee shop every morning together. We eat dinner together at nice restaurants when there's no one else to eat with, laptop in front of me on the table. We are still the best of friends. But the passion is gone. It's just so hard to let go! It's been my reason for living for the last three years! Writing this book has seen me through myraid breakups and Scary Medical tests; bouts with despair, euphoria, uncertainty, fear. But I'm going to have to let go, sooner rather than later, and tell me - THEN what will I do with my life (besides work, play music, climb mountains, chase boys, and travel around the world?) I have no f*cking clue. Write some more, I know. But WHAT? In other other news, I've recently engaged in some rather stellar kissing activity after a little dry spell. Oh. My. Gosh. I love kissing. I think it officially rates #2 on my list of all-time favorite activities, with reading being #1, of course. (Not that I would choose a good book over a delicious kiss, it's just that reading has no deleterious effects while kissing usually leads to trouble.) Perhaps if the corporate drone/bestelling author/famous rock start gigs don't pan out, I can set up my own kissing booth. Or - even better - a kissing and bookselling booth - you buy my book and I'll give you a kiss. Buy more than one and I'll make out with you. Man, what a deal. As it is, Dating Dummy has already earned one since Empire Corporation appears to be the winner of that little contest we had a couple weeks ago! Hey DD, when ya comin' to Seattle? | # E-mail Breakup Babe Friday, September 09, 2005 ( 10:21 AM ) Rebecca Hmm, I should not have mentioned that word "happiness." No sooner did I mention it than I have a mini panic attack about Chapters 25-27 of my book which really do not represent my finest writing. Those were the chapters I wrote during the brutal months of April and May. The months of Writers Block. I got them done but was never happy with them. When I handed them off I thought "I'll fix these in the revision stage!" Well guess what. It's the revision stage. And I don't feel like fixing them. I think I'll just have a few more panic attacks and maybe a whole lotta cocktails. After all, my editor liked them well enough and she should know, right? Right. But at least it's cold and rainy and I finally got to break out the black boots and sweaters again - yes! No more pressure to get pedicures or be blissfully happy. Plus my band might finally have a real-life gig. If I have not said this before, my band is the best thing to happen to me in my whole life. (Oh wait. Except for selling my novel!) Sure, we play in a garage most of the time, but it's me and four boys and I get to totally pretend like I'm a rock star. And rock stars get even more leeway than writers to be pains-in-the a*ses! | # E-mail Breakup Babe Wednesday, September 07, 2005 ( 6:28 PM ) Rebecca One of the reasons I like being a writer is not all the fame, money, and adoring fans it brings me.It's because I have an excuse for a lot of stuff. Do I indulge in just a little too much red wine sometimes? Yeah well, I'm a writer. Hello. Does my family consider me self-absorbed? Narcissistic? A pain in the a*s? I hope so. If I wasn't "difficult," I wouldn't be a writer! Do I ever come across as antisocial? Moody? Depressed? Possessed of a few strange phobias? I'm a writer - cut me some slack! Meanwhile, in a very unwriterly manner, I seem to be rather lighthearted lately. Almost happy, one might say. But it's such a strange feeling, I hardly recognize it? Is it possible for a writer to be happy? I'm not so sure about that. Probably just a virus. I'll be over it soon, no doubt. | # E-mail Breakup Babe Friday, September 02, 2005 ( 8:56 AM ) Rebecca Oh Good Lord. I'm revising the most, um, racy section in my book and it's really embarrassing me! I can barely even read my own words much less my editor's comments. Do you know how hard it is to write about s*x? (no pun intended!) Everything I write sounds like a cross between a porno and a Harlequin novel. Lucky for us all, there's a lot more flirting and emotional angst in my novel than actual s*x. Just like real life! Moving on. I've heard people bitching about how it's September now and to that I say, yippee! Bust out the turtlenecks and the champagne because this summer practically killed me, I swear. All through July and most of August, I wanted to hide under a damn rock. Nonetheless, I managed to finish my book and hang in there without the help of the little pink pills despite all that sunshine demanding I be happy happy happy! Oh I wish I could be one of those people who cavorts around in a carefree manner all summer in a bikini, dancing and drinking and flirting and not obsessing about life's deep, dark nastiness (the one time I DID go dancing, as you might recall, my shirt fell off!) But alas, I'm much too uptight. After this summer's dip into depression, I do feel older. And wiser. I don't mind feeling wiser but I sure as hell don't like feeling older. But what are you gonna do? Sh*t happens. And I'm now certain that all this emotional trauma has a lot to do with finishing this book, which is one of the greatest - and scariest - things that has ever happened to me. Now, as summer wanes and my mood improves, I'm getting out there to enjoy every last bit of it. Maybe, just maybe if a person were to ask my how my summer is going right now, my answer might be something other than "F*ck you." | # E-mail Breakup Babe |
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