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The awesome task of the "must-read" list

by Dana

A few years ago, I was given a daunting task: I had to pick out five science fiction books to give to someone who was interested in, but had never read, SF.  I was reminded of this just recently because Boskone is just  around the corner.  Also, David Brin recently printed his list of lists of must-read SF books. It's the kind of stuff late night convention-bar conversations and arguments are made of—it's hard to get definitive on a subject like that.

I eventually sent my friend a list of ten books, but gave her five of them to get started. I cannot for the life of me find that list (argh!), but I probably included: Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein (good intro to the role of technology and juvie fiction), The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (hysterically funny and manages to make amazingly complex scientific and social ideas accessible--and if you've read my blogs, you probably already know I'd give it for every occasion, if allowed), Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (a future with no books?!), The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula LeGuin (a little dystopia and a lot of what-if?), something (probably Burning Chrome) by William Gibson (gotta talk about cyberpunk). I might have thrown in Neal Stephenson's Diamond Age, because I think for all its flaws, it's awesome, and some times you just need the awesome to get someone excited about a genre.

Although I can't find that list (argh!), I know I spent a lot of nights pondering it.  Do I add in H.G. Wells?  What about Asimov, of whom I'm not a huge fan, but who is so very important? Frankenstein counts, but does Dracula—why or why not? And somewhere in the discussion has to come Fantasy and Urban Fantasy—but where? It's not SF, but has an awful lot of similarities and connections...

Doing a top-ten personal list is hard enough, but doing a top-ten “must-read list” one for someone else?  Well, that's a lot of pressure. You're standing up for a whole genre.

All this inevitably led me to think about mysteries.  Someone you know doesn't read mysteries, and wants you to give them a list. Do you tackle it historically, from the Golden Age to last week's announced Edgar nominees? Do you freight it toward things the reader may like, hoping you'll sink the hook? Do you focus on critical and popular acclaim, so she'll have a working vocabulary at cocktail parties?

My first inclination is to write a series of lectures on the subject to get my head around the subject, which is, of course, why I'm no longer invited to parties.  But even if I keep the lectures in my head (“Origins of Crime Fiction,” “The Golden Age of Mysteries,” “Pulp and Noir,” “Genre Fiction as a Reflection of Society,” “Women and Mystery,” “Batman vs. Sherlock Holmes”), pare down the reading list to under a hundred books and strip out all the commentary, it would still be a tough task. I might do it in ten books, but I'm not sure I'd ever be happy with it. I could do five or ten lists of five books, maybe.

So now, I'm thinking about how I'd set about beguiling that would-be mystery reader.  The lists I'm starting with?  The History of Mystery, The Golden Age, Hard Boiled and Pulp, Comfort Reads, Tough Detectives/Awesome Villains, and Other Stuff That Isn't Easily Categorized But You Should Read Because I Said So.

Gentle Readers: pick a category (or make up your own) and give me five names of books you'd use to woo the non-mystery reader. Go!

Now Hear This!

from Mary

 

Do you like audiobooks?

 

I do. I am absolutely crazy chunked double-roasted

about them. This last year, my library plunderings changed from mostly book books to near 100% audiobooks. I've checked out books on CDs for the car for a long time. But, as the library's PlayAway collection gets bigger and bigger, I find I'm becoming more and more addicted to them. If you haven't seen one, they look like this:

 

 

Very easy to slip in your pocket and go. You provide your own AAA battery and earbuds. What a great invention!

Here are a few of my favorite audiobooks, from CDs and Playaways, that you might enjoy.

 

This is actually my current read. It's a Vicky Bliss book with all the adventure and wit you'd expect from her and Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels. Read by the undisputed Queen of Narration, Barbara Rosenblat.

 

 

 

Drum roll ... this is my all-time favorite audiobook -

 

 

If there was an award for Most Entertaining Book of the Century, this would be the winner. Funny, great storytelling from two masters, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman -

- and to top it all, the most incredible, enjoyable narration ever from the actor Martin Jarvis.

 

And for a brilliant series to listen to, I loved The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo books that everyone raves about -

 

 

- narrated by one of the best-known audio narrators in the world, Simon Vance.

 

Do you have an audio recommendation for me? Sometimes I search the library online site by narrator to find other books done by the ones above. Would love to hear of more.

 

Happy Listening!

Getting a handle on 2012

by Donna Andrews

I’m embarrassed to admit that it’s already January 15 and I still haven’t finished sorting out my goals for the year. There’s nothing magical about January 1, of course, but going two weeks into the new year without having my annual road map done—it feels a little feckless.

And I realized tonight why I haven’t done it yet.  I remember hearing Barbara Hambly speak at Crescent City Con in 1997.  She mentioned a writer friend who had trouble getting himself to write because as long as the book was in his head, it was going to be the best thing he’d ever done.  And the minute he put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, what he wrote fell short.  However brilliant his draft was, it never lived up to the book of his imagination.

Been there and done that myself.  With books, with a whole lot of projects—and in the last two weeks, with my goals for 2012.  Right now, I’m still fantasizing about all the things I could do or learn.  The places I could go.  I could do anything this year.  Anything!

And it doesn’t help that I went to New York this weekend—I’m serving again on the MWA national board, and this was our orientation weekend.  Hanging around with other writers and hearing about their adventures always makes me feel like a chameleon, wanting to try on bits of other people’s lives. 

We talked about travel—Hilary Davidson is taking a trip to Israel soon, and Charles Todd mentioned that his mother, Caroline, is very close to hitting her 100th foreign country.  Yeah, I should travel more.  To cool, exotic places where I can take fabulous photos for my 365 project.

Fellow Femme Fatale Dana Cameron was in town, getting a museum fix—the Dead Sea Scrolls are in New York until April. I should catch more exhibits.  And more ballets.  I want to catch up on all my writer friends’ books.  And all those favorite movies they keep recommending.  And write more short stories.

The uncluttered comfort of my hotel room reminded me that I had a long way to go in organizing and decluttering my house.  My knee was acting up, making it hard to keep pace with the fast-paced New York pedestrians, reminding me that I need to get back into the gym to exercise my torn meniscus back into submission.  And why does extremely cold weather always make me want to curl up with seed and plant catalogues and plan the perfect garden?  All things that go into the hopper for 2012.

I can, indeed, do anything this year, but not everything.  And it’s time I sat down and take a hard look at all those daydreams and fantasies; all the wants and musts and oughts.  Put them on the table with the things I’m already committed to do—I have a book due, and responsibilities to people and organizations.

So it’s time to sit down and plan my year.  Get serious about this 2012 thing.  Set some goal for the year and figure out what I need to do for the balance of January to achieve them.

Well, almost time.  I’m setting an appointment with myself for 9 a.m. tomorrow.  Tonight I’m going to spend one last evening building castles in the the air.

 

What's in your wallet?

By Kris Neri

THE ARTIST’S WAY by Julia Cameron, along with some of her other books, have been incredibly influential in my life and have spurred my writing career. In case you’re unfamiliar with her work, I like to describe THE ARTIST’S WAY and some of the others as do-it-yourself therapy for artists. I probably do THE ARTIST’S WAY again every couple of years.

I say “do it” rather than “read it” because, although it is a book, THE ARTIST’S WAY, along with others of Julia’s titles, present a program of multi-week creativity-enhancing lessons and exercises, which have probably been successful in increasing the creativity of millions of struggling artists.

Actually, while Julia Cameron’s books are marketed to artists, I’ve been the bookseller at two of her conferences, and I’ve met loads of her devoted fans who don’t consider themselves as artists of any kind, but who regard THE ARTIST’S WAY as do-it-yourself therapy for everyone, who’ve made, not artistic growth, but life-growth, using Julia’s lessons and exercises.

With all that said, while I’ve made such artistic strides thanks to her books, I haven’t found her some of her recent books quite as stirring as her earlier ones. I’ve read them all, but they haven’t had such a profound impact on me.

Until now. With THE PROSPEROUS HEART: CREATING A LIFE OF “ENOUGH,” which she wrote with Emma Lively, Julia Cameron has once again captured the stirring, life-changing lessons and exercises of her earlier works.

Some of the tools used in THE PROSPEROUS HEART will be familiar ones to her readers, such as the morning pages, which instructs those following the exercises to write three solid pages of stream-of-conscious writing as soon as they wake up, and the recommended weekly walks. But other tools, such as counting every penny in and out, and the time outs are different.

At first glance, this doesn’t seem like a book that should have a stirring impact on me. Sure, like lots of people, I don’t have as much money as I’d like. But I’m not a shopaholic — sometimes it seems as if I was born without the shopping gene, since it’s usually my least favorite activity. No smoke coming off my credit cards!

So it might seem strange that a book that helps people to manage their finances and stop over-shopping and running up debt they can’t afford should have make such a strong impression on me, but it did. That’s because, according to Cameron, prosperity isn’t a financial issue, but a spiritual one. She maintains that the opposite of prosperity isn’t poverty, but anxiety. It’s the fear of not having enough that makes us feel the desperation for more.

She shows her readers how to recognize the abundance they already have their lives, but which probably goes unnoticed in their quest for whatever magic number they think will satisfy them. She points out that the magic number rarely does satisfy. Other exercises easily help readers to bring more fulfilling prosperity into their lives. For instance, in one exercise, she instructs the reader to list five things they’d like, which they can’t afford — and then encourages them to search for some small step they could take in each of those areas.

When I did the exercise, I listed five large things I’d like, but when I didn’t immediately think of five small steps I could take toward each one of them, I poo-pooed the exercise as ineffective, at least for me. And yet, within hours I did think of small steps I could take, and each one proved to be an inspired choice and wholly satisfying.

But as with all her do-it-yourself lessons & exercises books, my gains greatly exceeded her intended subject matter. While THE ARTIST’S WAY and some other titles, including THE RIGHT TO WRITE and others, did help me to enhance my creativity, THE PROSPEROUS HEART made me to appreciate the level of abundance I already enjoy and aided me in bringing more prosperity into my life — my greatest gains exceeded the financial realm, and helped me to make life-improvements in areas that seemed to have nothing to do with money.

The book’s voice — Cameron’s voice, to those who have had the good fortune to have heard her — at times quirky, at other times stern, but always confident in the efficacy of the lessons she has to offer — will comfort those who’ve derived much from her books in the past, but should also prove welcoming to Cameron newbies. For those of you who might be shopoholics, I’m sure you’d derive even more than I did. If THE PROSPEROUS HEART offers you half of what it gave me, you’ll find it worth the time, money and personal energy you’ll invest in it.

 

 

 

Making a Hat

by Hank Phillippi Ryan

Are you making a hat? I am.

I’m in he midst of writing a new book (please take a moment to cross fingers, Femmes and FoFs, you know what this is like. I’m on page 112, or so, and sometimes it makes sense. I keep saying to myself—just keep going. You can fix it later.)

 But I digress. Well, not exactly. Creating new characters out of nowhere! That never ceases to amaze me, you know? I sit down at the computer, blank page. Some hours later, if I'm lucky, several pages are full, and a new person—or two or three—has been born.

 Jane Elizabeth Ryland, with her brusque and dismissive father, and her ambitious and soon-so-be-married younger sister, and her mother, who she misses but still consults. (NOT in a woo-woo way, just how one does.)  And now, Jane exists. Where there never was a Jane before.

 Making new people where there never were people before. People who readers will know, and understand, and care about. Sookie. Anna. Tilda. Helen. Charlie.

It kills me.And always makes me stop in wonder.

I’m a huge fan of Stephen Sondheim, have been even way before I stated writing novels. He’s so clever, an so careful, and so funny, and obviously loves words and how they work together. And how an artist's mind works.

 One of my favorite plays—has been for years—is Sunday in the Park with George—the ultimate play about creativity. Do you know it? There’s a song called Finishing the Hat. And if I talk about it, I’ll start to cry. (No, really. I actually do “teach” about it, in my role as instructor at Mystery Writers of America University. And those who attend will tell you-- tears always come to my eyes.)

 You know the play is about Georges Seurat, right? And his obsession and passion for his art. In Sunday in the Park, he talks to his muse/lover (whose name is Dot, and his dog is Spot  ) about why it’s important to get it just right, why his art is constantly in his mind, and—in Finishing the Hat--creating something out of nowhere, and being so zoned out (and in) to what you’re doing, that time just evaporates.

 Sondheim writes:

 Studying the hat

Entering the world of the hat

 Reaching through the world of the hat

 Except it’s not really out of nowhere, right? Somewhere in our brains, we “magically” can create something completely new, make of snippets and pieces and dots of our past and our imagination. And our brains are so focused on whatever it is—that we have no idea how long it took. I sit at my computer, and it’s noon. I look up and it’s 3 PM. How does that happen?

 We type “curly,” and delete and type “straight.” We type “brown” and delete and type “auburn.” We type “frowned” and delete and type “crumbled.” Or whatever, And in our heads, a new person—with a face and desires and conflicts and intent—emerges, bit by bit, dot by dot. And whatever else we’re doing, our minds are still testing our choices, perfecting them—maybe it should be “chestnut” or “chocolate” or mahogany.” Or revenge or sorrow or lust or greed.

That however you live

There’s always a part of you standing by

Mapping out the sky

Finishing a hat

Starting on a hat

 Finishing a hat

 And at the end of the page, there’s a person where there never was a person. That’s why we write, isn’t it? We point to our book and say,

Look, I made a hat

Where there never was a hat.

Oh. Like I said. Tears in my eyes.

My New Heroes

by Toni L.P. Kelner

 

Though I had a lovely time over the holidays in all the important ways, there was one thing that kept me from full enjoyment. I was sick.

I was sick pretty much the entire month of December. It started with a sore throat, which made me cough so long and hard my sleep was disrupted. Then cold symptoms like a fever and runny nose showed up. That morphed to walking pneumonia. I went to the doctor three times, took two different courses of antibiotics, went through endless amounts of over-the-counter drugs, and a ludicrous amount of tissue.

I couldn't do anything like the amount of Christmas shopping I usually do, and forget about Christmas cards. Our decorations were minimal, though we did get the tree up and decorated. We skipped a couple of holiday traditions, and were almost relieved our usual Christmas dinner guests were out of town. (We did get up with them after Christmas, and it was lovely.) If it hadn't been for my husband Steve picking up the slack, it would have been really un-Christmassy.

On the writing side... There was no writing side. I kept up with e-mail and some business stuff, but I couldn't write worth a darn even though the deadline was looming. Then here. Then past. I could sit at the computer, but couldn't concentrate enough to write fiction. Even email was a struggle, and I suspect a lot of what I did type was badly worded and spelled.

At this moment, I'm still coughing a bit and still blowing my nose a lot, but I have felt basically well for three days in a row.

Being well is heaven.

Being well means that I can put up the clean dishes without feeling as if I've run a marathon, that I can drive my daughters to school without timing my medicine intake to make sure I haven't taken anything that could make me drousy, that I kiss the girls goodnight without worrying about spreading germs. And I can write again. Oh, I'm still late on the deadline, but I'm making progress and it makes me feel better than any of those antibiotics did.

You know what? What I went through was NOTHING.

I didn't need hospitalization. My pain was minimal. I wasn't in danger. And I knew I was going to get better sooner or later. It turned out to be later, but I never really thought I wouldn't go back to my usual life. Sure, it was a month, but that's all it was.

But now I have a much better understanding of what really sick people endure: people with chronic diseases and pain, people who are seriously injured or ill, people who don't have a Steve to take care of them. They don't suffer for a lousy month--sometime it's months, years, a lifetime. A lot of them know they aren't going to get better, or tthat they won't ever totally be free of pain or impairment or weakness.

Yet they still live their lives, and take care of their families, and write or cook or whatever it is they do for a living or the love of it. And they can't possibly whinge as much as I did.

So I have something to tell those people out there living in those kinds of situations. This is for my friend who had a stroke and came back more be more creative and productive than ever, for the friend who has to plan ahead to make sure her wheelchair will fit into the places she wants to visit, for my sister who just finished going through chemo but whose back still keeps her from walking some days, for the friend who deals with arthritis in her knees every freaking day, for the friend whose work damaged her knees forever, for the mother whose pain the medicine never really touches. This is for all the people who will never have three days of feeling well in a row.

You people are my new heroes.

If I ever manage to grow up, I want to be as brave and as strong and as patient as you are.

Resolutely into 2012

Some do it. Some don’t. And some refuse to consider the subject.

But you can’t avoid talking about New Year’s resolutions. Not now.

The Femmes Fatales are resolutely divided.

Charlaine Harris: I intend to be more like a duck and let the negativity roll off my back.

Toni L. P. Kelner: I resolve to be better with writing deadlines. I've squeaked by too many times in recent years--it's time to pull up my big girl panties and tackle that issue.

Hank Phillippi Ryan: Seriously? I mean — truly seriously. I am going to try to stop worrying and trying to be perfect. I talk a good game about this—in all the classes I teach, and speeches. I talk about how you’re on the journey—and you’ll wind up at the same destination whether you worry or not. But me—confession--I still worry. I’ll try not to be overwhelmed by everything. Can one TRY not to be overwhelmed? Hmm.

I’m pretty good at counting blessings. I’m pretty good at watching the stars and noticing the flowers and seeing beauty and being grateful. And I think that makes a difference. So that’s a top resolution—continue, and be part of the world.

I’m already diligent—some would say too diligent—about my writing. So that’s good. But I want to be better. Better at it. How does one do that?

And I always think about being nicer. Sometimes it’s easy to make a crack about something or someone. But what’s really helped by that? SO, I’m try to hold my tongue. As much as I can.

And I’ll try not to push my new book too much. See? I’m not even mentioning it by name.

Happy New Year!

Dana Camaron: Hmm. Not resolutions -- I like to start making changes in my life as soon as I think of them, and not wait for an arbitrary date. Let's call them "anticipations" for the New Year, things I'm looking forward to. I can't wait to tackle the pile of books I have tbr and can't wait to discover more new comic books -- a passion I've recently reconnected with.

I need to find new music to work to and I'm already planning some travel for fun (Paris!). One of the great blessings of my job is getting to meet folks and visit with friends at conventions, and I'm already lining up a flock of events. I'm hoping to get more Fangborn stories out into the world, and have a couple of ideas in that direction.

I wish these things for the Femmes Fatales and our faithful readers, too: may the New Year bring reading and travel adventures, good friends, and work that makes you happy! All the best in 2012!

Mary Saums: Some of my 2012 resolutions are continuations from last year - exercise more often, relax more often, choose foods more wisely, give away more stuff. This year I want to continue making progress on those and add a few more - drawing or painting combined with nature walks, getting a little home recording studio going, do music tracks for fun, work on voice training for audiobook narration. So these are transition goals to prepare for retirement in a few years. I hope!

Donna Andrews: This is a little tough for me, because as I've said before (possibly on our blog)--but here it is again:

I don't do resolutions. You make a resolution, and then if you break it--it's broken. No matter how well you keep it the rest of the year, if you broke your resolution once or twice in January . . . it's somehow less than perfect. And so there's an all-too-human tendency to think that maybe it's okay--or even better--to wait until you can start clean with a brand new unbroken resolution . . . next year. And that way lies never getting ANYTHING done.

Instead, I make goals. If you don't meet a goal right away, you keep trying. Over the next week or two, I will take stock of what I accomplished in 2011 and what I hope to accomplish in 2012. I'll try to set some ambitious but realistic goals. And figure out what I need to get done in January if I want to achieve those goals.

It's the same way I write books. Even after eighteen books, the idea of writing a whole book can be a little bit intimidating. Which is why I never write a whole book--I make a plan for one, and then I break it down into dozens of manageable little pieces that are far less scary to find on my daily to do list.

So I don't have any resolutions, and I can't really say what my goals will be for next year. Except that one of them will almost certainly be getting my next book started in good time and finished well before the absolute deadline!

Kris Neri: I don’t completely disagree with Femme Donna — some of us do have a tendency to think that if we slip off the resolution path, we might as well scrap the whole idea of changing some aspects of our lives. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It would do us all well to acknowledge how hard change is.

I think of January 1 as a reset button on my life. As I approach that time, I look back over the prior year, at what I’ve done well, what strides I’ve made, as well as what areas still need work.

I also use the words "intend" or "intentions," rather than "resolutions," because I consider it stronger. So . . . I intend to continue the growth I’ve already begun in areas that were part of last year’s January 1st intentions, and now I want to begin others. I want more fun in my life this year for one thing. And I intend to ride the weight yo-yo in the other direction now.

I do think a few extra official reset buttons would keep us all more on track with our intentions, goals, resolutions, or whatever else we might call them. Maybe I’ll make the intention of setting more of those for myself. The Ides of March sounds as if it might make a good one.

Elaine Viets: I resolve to make no resolutions.

Seriously, my German ancestors balk at change. How they ever crossed the ocean to the USA is beyond me. But I’m learning to enjoy change, even revel in it. So I’m looking forward to 2012. Bring it on!

Beach reads/beach writes

by Dana

We snuck out during the holidays, trading in wintry New England for balmy Turks and Caicos.  Don't worry, we got a snootful of rain and wind on the turbulent flight home, and the temperature is  plummeting like a sheep as I type this, so we're not missing out on seasonal weather. 

Once we established ourselves on the beach, I was eager to see what other people were reading.  Last year, it was all Stieg Larsson and Stephenie Meyer; only one of each of those this year.  I did see a couple of folks reading David Baldacci and Harlan Coben; one Harry Potter and one Nevada Barr.  There were a bunch of Steve Jobs biographies, and one or two folks had accounting or law guides, which I found depressing, but maybe made them giddily happy. 

(I also like to see what people are wearing.  I'm very happy to report there are fewer thong bikinis than ever.  I don't care how good you look in them—and most people don't—it's just too much information for me.  There were only one or two misguided Speedo sightings, and I can tell you, long surfer trunks are not made more attractive with giant images of cheeseburgers.  But I digress.)

I always think it's funny when people describe crime fiction or fantasy as “beach reads,” because I take both genres pretty seriously.  Some times, I bring a stack of new authors with me to read, but sometimes, if I'm trying to take a real break from writing, I relax with non-fiction.  This trip, I read Murray Murphey's Truth & History (shout out to my Am Civ peeps!), Michio Kaku's Physics of the Impossible, and Richard Feynman's Six Easy Pieces.  It was a great distraction:  I got to relive some of my favorite Murphey lecture moments and think about how archaeologists and historians approach the past.  The Feynman is readable and a gentle intro to physics, and Kaku's book ties in what I do know about physics from popular culture (Star Wars, Star Trek, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy) and talks about what it would take to actually create a light saber, a transporter, etc.  Anecdotes give me something to relate to while I'm learning the science.

It worked.  Mostly.  I enjoyed myself, learned a little, chilled a lot.  The problem and/or upside was:  reading Murphey's book made me think about what Anna Hoyt would do in the Caribbean (and how I would know she did it).  Reading the popular physics books made me think about the origins of the Fangborn and how exactly they could effect their physical transformations.  And seeing people throwing sand at each other “for fun” made me think about my new character Jayne, the “recovering covert operative,” and how she might stop their antisocial behavior.  So while I didn't exactly manage to leave work entirely behind (I don't think you can, as a writer), I was able to make notes for new stories without feeling...dutiful.  Obliged.  Like I was working.  Maybe it was more relaxing because I wasn't consciously grappling with a story, so the ideas that came to me felt like a bonus (and not a continuation of the work week).  It was a good break.

Writers, what do you read (or not read) to relax and get away from your projects?  Readers, what do you like to read to take a vacation from the world for a few hours?

Movie Therapy!

from Mary

Happy Holidays, everyone!

It's that time of the year when things get a little crazy. Family get-togethers, parties, fighting the masses while shopping, hurrying to finish one thing so you can start on the next must-do. It can get a little frustrating. And, as I feel my age more and more, all the fun and running around wears me totally out.  

So this year, I'm determined to carve out some holiday flop time. As in, flop down on the couch and enjoy some movies. It's like pushing the reset button. We work all year to meet goals. We'll be setting new goals soon for the next year. In between, why not rest a little bit and a let a movie give you a mind massage.

Here are my current favorites (that I can think of right now), a little more than a top ten:

Tied for #1:

Fun story, great cast, Brando and Maximillian Schell crack me up ....

  

Laugh out loud funny ...

 

 

Set in NYC, cool screenplay, awesome cast ..

 

Mel Brooks ... what's not to like?

Archeology! I could watch this one over and over and ....

Like the Beverly Hills Cop movies, lots of action and great funny scenes.

The cast, the scenery, the hairy feet ...

Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker make a great team. Nothing better than a little kung fu fighting ...

  

This is a new favorite. Saw it for the first time last week. Hugh Grant is hilarious, Bill Nighy is over the top, Colin Firth is so good-looking ...

.

The archeaology/action classic...

 

Another NYC favorite, love the bubbe ... 

 

Tied for the #2 spot would be The Secret of Roan Inish, Doc Hollywood, the first Harry Potter, The Dirty Dozen, Casablanca, any Alfred Hitchcock movie, anything with Burt Lancaster in it.

I know I'm forgetting lots of good ones. What other suggestions would you make for a mental get-away?

 

by Charlaine

There’s something to be said for hitting rock bottom. As I was drinking my first cup of coffee Sunday morning, I was reading my favorite magazine,  Entertainment Weekly. I’ve been a faithful subscriber for many years, and I remember how excited I was when my name was in its pages for the first time, when Alan Ball began filming “True Blood.”

I was in the pages of EW again in the year-end issue: “Best and Worst of 2011.” My book, DEAD RECKONING, was designated one of the worst of the year, along with a book by the ubiquitous Kardashians and one by Snooki of “Jersey Shore” fame.

At first I really couldn’t believe it. Though I fully realized DEAD RECKONING was not a perfect book, I knew I’d read worse during 2011. Then I realized that the criteria must have been, “bad books by someone famous.” Still, it stung pretty badly, as you can imagine.

I was pretty philosophical about the experience until my inner insecurities began to plague me. Most writers have plenty of those, beginning with the suspicion that we are actually no good at all and that someday someone will discover this . . . no matter how healthy our bank account may be, or how brisk sales have been.

I was secretly hoping my agent would challenge the article’s writer to a duel. Then I realized that if anyone did that, it should be me, and I was feeling way too pitiful.

I hope I don’t experience anything more humiliating in my professional life. This kind of capped off a very eventful 2011 for me, because I’ve had a number of thunderbolts, both personal and professional. Next year simply HAS to be better