Periodically, when I’m bored, I think about the coming zombie apocalypse. If you read too much young adult literature, you probably do, too.

But really, ever since Robinson Crusoe, The Swiss Family Robinson and masses of Jules Verne read during my childhood, I figure I might not be the first to be voted off the island. Especially if I’m allowed to take one thing.

You would think that would be my husband, and yes, given the choice, he would be it, because he is very handy to have around and he can fix almost anything.

But I might not have the choice. What if it’s me, all on my lonesome, and the gibbering hordes are coming?

I like to think that with advance notice, I could avoid the zombies and find someplace remote to hide with lots of canned food cached away with me. What you don’t think about much is how many can openers to bring. Because when your only can opener decides not to function, it seems like you are pretty much screwed.

Which is how I found myself making soup the other day, with a lot of not very creative swearing, and now I sport a band-aid on my finger.

Take more than one can opener. You'll thank me.

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My holiday shopping is done, and no surprise probably to anyone, I bought books. I think there would be something wrong with me if I didn’t buy books. Like, I had fallen into a coma and was in a persistent vegetative state.

So as not to spoil any surprises, I’m not going to reveal which books they were, but I’ve been reading many fine books lately, and I’ll mention a few of the stand-outs.

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie—I love books set in foreign places, and while most of this hefty novel is set in the United States, it’s seen through the eyes of a Nigerian expatriate. It does make you think about race and the consequences of privilege.

The Boy Who Loved Math: The Improbable Life of Paul Erdos by Deborah Heiligman, illustrated by LeUyen Pham—This is a picture book biography about a boy who grew up to become a famous and influential mathematician. I am glad there are books like this one in the world.

Cat Girl’s Day Off by Kimberly Pauley—Like the next book on this list, this fun novel has voice in spades. Truly original and oh, so funny! What if your superpower was the ability to talk to cats?

Chronal Engine by Greg Leitich Smith—Time travel and dinosaurs, what’s not to like? What takes this book over the top is the laugh out loud humor. Consider this passage:

They only leave two toe marks, because they hold the one off the ground.

The switchblade one. The one that could disembowel you and leave your intestines on the outside so they could eat you at their convenience while you watched.

I didn’t say this aloud, though, because sometimes you don’t have to tell everyone everything.

I sure hope there’s a sequel.

Isa Does It: Amazingly Easy, Wildly Delicious Vegan Recipes for Every Day of the Week

by Isa Chandra Moskowitz—Yes, it’s a cookbook, by the author of the classic Veganomicon. I am vegetarian, my eldest daughter is vegan, and a couple small and medium sized relatives have severe food allergies, cutting out whole categories of foods. This cookbook is easy enough for even me to follow (I’m easily distracted), and the recipes are indeed as yummy as promised.

Just One Evil Act by Elizabeth George—I listened to this one at the gym and while doing housework, which insured that I did both, otherwise, I would neglect everything. If you read mysteries, you should read Elizabeth George.

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I don’t think I’ve announced this before, but a profile I wrote of Navajo musician Vince Redhouse will appear in an anthology out from Fulcrum Publishing, Inc., in Spring, 2015. The focus of the book is on contemporary Native American athletes and performers. I must say, it’s a stellar line-up, although I don’t think it’s my place to reveal who else will be included. I’m very happy with my piece, and feel privileged to be a part of this project.

Author Nancy Bo Flood is the editor.

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Last weekend a friend and invited me along on an adventure. She is getting a Master’s degree in Journalism at the University of Arizona and had an assignment to do a multimedia project. She asked me if I would be interested in helping her film video. She would do the set-up, and then I would babysit the camera while she took still photos. I figured this was something I could handle.

Saying yes resulted in being up before dawn on Saturday, driving to a wildlife refuge about an hour outside Yuma, and being witness to the capture and processing of a small herd of bighorn sheep, which were to be subsequently released in Tucson’s Santa Catalina range. There had been a herd in the mountains once, but it had died out in the mid 1990s. No one knew why—too close to humans, too tasty to mountain lions, some unknown pathogen. So the reintroduction of the sheep is somewhat of an experiment, and not without controversy, to see if the sheep can survive, and not only survive, but thrive.

The sheep probably thought they were being abducted by aliens, complete with anal probes (okay, thermometers, but still). They were captured one by one by nets shot from helicopters, bundled into the choppers by muggers (yes, this is an actual job description), and blind-folded to reduce stimulation, before being given health checks, radio collars, and identifying ear tags by the veterinary staff. They were then loaded into cages on a flatbed truck, up to four sheep per box. I was impressed by how swiftly and carefully the people worked with the sheep.

I, of course, peered into their cages. There is something magical-mystical-mysterious about locking eyes with a wild creature. I felt very privileged.

Then on Monday, I was present as the sheep were released at Catalina State Park. One by one, they leaped out of their cages and ran for the hills.

Godspeed!

P.S. ETA—You can now see my friend's video here. I even show up briefly around the three and a half minute mark.

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When your publisher hands you lemons out of print books, after you finish wailing and gnashing your teeth, you figure out what to do with them. And the thing is, you definitely have options.

Two of my novels had gone out of print: The Bean King’s Daughter and Close Encounters of a Third-World Kind. With the assistance of Rhody Cohen Downey, who is smart, savvy, and a #1 NYT bestselling writer to boot, I got them up as e-books, available at Smashwords, for Kindle, and for Nook. If you need help with your e-book formatting, or editorial services, you won’t go wrong calling Rhody.

Then, since I wanted to still be able to sell physical books rather than e-books at school visits, I started investigating getting them reprinted. I thought I could swing a modest paperback print run for each.

I engaged in talks for months with a company that does printing in Tucson (I wanted to go local), but ultimately decided it wouldn’t suit me. It wasn’t because of the storage space issue; it was because of quality. The interior of my books had been formatted so prettily by Holiday House, and although the local company said they could match all the formatting, the examples of books they had done for self-published authors all had ugly blocky formatting. Read, no formatting. I ultimately listened to my gut which said, “Run away!”

Ultimately, I went with print on demand through Createspace. I can order as many books as I want, when I want them. Is it perfect? No, but it will do for now.

For Close Encounters of a Third-World Kind, I purchased the right to reuse the cover art. For The Bean King’s Daughter, I wasn’t sure I wanted the same cover. I think it captured the story’s essence well, and it amused me, because the cartoony girl looks exactly like me when I was twelve-years-old. But every so often, kids would ask me, “What’s wrong with Phoebe’s leg?” As adults, we can infer that the girl’s leg is crooked back behind her as she gets out of a limousine (it’s a poor little rich girl story). But to kids, she looks like she’s an amputee. I think it’s one of those developmental things. Kids can’t imagine the crooked back leg, and adults can’t not imagine it.

After trying a number of designs, I came up with putting my heroine’s photograph inside a million dollar bill. I also decided that while I was giving the book a new cover, I would give it a new title. So it is now The Girl Who Has Everything. I like this title better. I wish I had thought of it earlier.

Close Encounters of a Third-World Kind was nominated for Arizona’s Grand Canyon Reader Award, Connecticut’s Nutmeg Book Award, and Maryland’s Black-Eyed Susan Book Award, and still shows up on recommended reading lists, because it’s quite an unusual book, set in Nepal. And there aren’t many books set in Nepal for children. Like I can count them on one hand, and not use all my fingers.

I am under no illusion that I am going to sell thousands of copies over the internet, but it is nice to have both books back in print (on demand), and at an affordable price, $7.99 each.

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Over at Janni Lee Simner’s Desert Dispatches blog, I have a guest post, part of janni’s “Writing for the Long Haul” series. I’d love for you to read it, but you’ll also want to read the other writers’ posts, and continue reading, as she uploads a new post every Monday morning.

Writing for the Long Haul Posts:
Jennifer J. Stewart
Sherwood Smith
Mette Ivie Harrison
Jeffrey J. Mariotte
Judith Tarr
Kathi Appelt
Cynthia Leitich Smith

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Lately I’ve been back at the gym, working on my fitness, trying to get back what I lost when I suffered a stress fracture* last fall, and couldn’t do much for several months. I am almost back to being able to run 30 minutes at a stretch, although my speed isn’t anything to boast about (yet).

To motivate myself further, I’ve been reading inspirational athletic memoirs, notably the just published: Ironmom by Mette Harrison* and Finding Ultra: Rejecting Middle Age, Becoming One of the World’s Fittest Men, and Discovering Myself by Rich Roll.

Probably I won’t become a triathlete anytime soon, as I get motion sickness on placid rivers, and also, have you seen Jaws? But I do think running is fun, and I think I would like to run a race. So maybe when it cools off… I’ll sign up for one.

* I ran on concrete, wearing minimalist shoes. Don't do that.
** Mette also writes fiction as Mette Ivie Harrison.

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So this afternoon, I came back from the library, and was noodling around on the internet. Specifically Perez Hilton's site (don't judge).

One story was about David Bowie's new music video, "The Next Day," the title song of his new CD. It said that Youtube had briefly censored it. Curious, because I don't like censorship, of videos or books, I clicked on the link.

Hmm... religious iconography. Wait, that young woman in armor has to be Joan of Arc... Wait a minute!!! THAT'S MY DAUGHTER!!!!!

And it was. Miranda had auditioned for a music video awhile back (she directs, models, and acts in Los Angeles), and I knew she had gotten the part, but she couldn't tell me who the artist was. And I was dying to know, but, and this is a big but, I am a blabbermouth, and she knows it. I was aware that she would be playing Joan, and would have a hair-cut that as my husband put it, looked "self-inflicted."

There were a couple hints dropped, and I figured it had to be Cher, who is awesome, because I knew, thanks to Perez Hilton (again, don't judge), that she has new music coming out in the fall. Okay, now everyone is laughing at me, but I really thought it was Cher, and that I would have to wait months, which was killing me.

But I didn't have to wait, after all. If you would like to see the video, you can click here. It is adults only, NSFW, and of course, controversial. Besides David Bowie and Miranda, Gary Oldman and Marion Cotillard are in it. I think it is awesome.

All three of my daughters grew up watching David Bowie in Labyrinth, and who knew one of them would meet him in person?

P.S. If you wonder about the eyeballs, they are Saint Lucy's.

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My middle grade novel, Close Encounters of a Third-World Kind, was recently featured in an “About Proximity” blog post by Lisa Van Engen, in conjunction with the Girl Rising movie. Van Engen writes, “Click here for the middle grade toolkit. Above are the suggested titles for the middle grade reader. Titles include the topics of: recovering from tragedy, war, separation, refugees, immigration, poverty, education, gender inequality, and famine.” I am so honored that my book is on this list! And I must see this film! I think anyone who enjoyed (although enjoy is not quite the right word here) the eye-opening documentary Half The Sky will want to see it.

Here is the trailer for Girl Rising:



To read the full review of my book from the Smithsonian Asian Pacific Center’s BookDragon blog, click here.

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I will be moderating the following authors this weekend, March 9th-10th, at the Tucson Festival of Books: Elise Broach, Maxwell Eaton, Jennifer Holm, Nancy Krulik, Joanne Levy, Stephan Pastis, Adam Rex, R.L.Stine, and Linda Urban.

Aren’t I lucky? If you have questions you would like me to ask them, please let me know by commenting.

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I wasn’t sure I would like e-reading. Give up on paper and ink books? As if it were an all or nothing decision.

It isn’t. Really, it’s just another way to read.

But anyway, I had run out of bookshelves*, and also, I read a lot**, and when I travel, I don’t want to check my suitcase because when you do that you risk it being lost and showing up a day late when you are staying on an island and then you don’t have a bathing suit***. And so I could either pack clothes or books in the carry-on suitcase…

I would have mostly chosen books, but I’ve noticed that people object if you wear the same clothes over and over and over.

I still prefer real paper and ink books, but my e-reader works out great when I’m traveling. Right now I’m in Los Angeles, having flown out to see my daughter direct the musical “Little Shop of Horrors” at Caltech.****

After months of testing and reading Consumer Reports, I bought a Nook Simple Touch, which was also the cheapest e-reader. I called it the Nook Complicated Touch for awhile, because it seemed like it was idiot proof, but it wasn’t. I had to go back to the store to get it to take my email and password. And then, my husband had to find and download a software patch so that I could use it with our home WiFi. It took him almost three hours to figure out, and believe me, he is no idiot.

All the Nook Simple Touch does is let me read books on a black and white screen. No checking email, no playing games (not that I do that anymore). I check out some of the books from the library, but the library doesn’t have enough e-copies of books, in my opinion. So I judiciously buy some books before I go on a trip, preloading it. And I can always buy more, as long as I’m not in the Australian outback.****

I wish the Nook Simple Touch had a built-in English/Spanish dictionary. When I was reading The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Urrea, I wanted to look up the Spanish words. I could guess at their meaning, but I wanted to know for sure. They seemed like useful insults.

You know what? Maybe I should buy an English/Spanish dictionary for my Nook Simple Touch.

Sometimes I amaze myself with my ingenuity.

* Seriously, and my husband says I can’t have more bookshelves. Meanie.

** I have six (6!) library cards

*** Always pack the essentials in your carry-on. This message brought to you by United. Motto: “We always lose your luggage!”

**** It shows next weekend, too, Friday at 8:00 pm and Saturday at 2:30 pm in Ramo Auditorium. Please call the Caltech Ticket Office at 626 395-4652 to purchase tickets. Wonderful creepy fun!

*****Actually, you can buy books in the Australian outback. You just need an internet connection.

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On Saturday, I head to Los Angeles to catch the production of “Little Shop of Horrors,” the musical my daughter Miranda is directing at Caltech. It’s a fun show, featuring a man-eating plant. Most productions rent the plant, but Caltech students built theirs, and you know it’s going to be awesome. The musical has a great score and lots of laughs. It runs this weekend and next. Ticket information here.

This same daughter became engaged on Valentine’s Day. My future son-in-law had a little help from actor and writer Stephen Fry playing Cupid. Stephen had auctioned a tweet for the Elephant Family, which protects Asian elephants and their habitat. You can see the sweet tweet here.

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There are a few days left to register for Saturday’s 5K Fun Run/Walk, which benefits MAKE WAY FOR BOOKS and the Pima County Public Library. Register here. Rumor has it that The Cat in The Hat will make an appearance, as well as other beloved children’s characters.

The Tucson Area Reading Council is running a poetry contest for kids, called Blooming Poets. Learn more here. The deadline is March 15th.

In the coming weeks, I will be heading out to present at Sycamore Elementary School, the Arizona Young Authors Conference, Painted Sky Elementary School, Pueblo Del Sol Elementary School, St. Michael’s Parish Day School, and Santa Clara Elementary School. I’ll also be Skyping with the students of R.A. Mitchell Elementary School in Alabama!

The Tucson Festival of Books is coming March 9th and 10th! I won’t be presenting, but I will be moderating two stellar panels this year, the first on Saturday with Jennifer Holm, Maxwell Eaton III, and Nancy Krulik. The second is on Sunday with R.L. Stine, Adam Rex, and Stephan Pastis!

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"You are like one of the best writers I have known."

Possibly, I am the only writer you have met, but I’ll take it.

"I like when your parents gave you the newspaper and you ate it."

Did you know that newspapers are printed with special ink made of crushed up vitamins?

"I liked when you said that you improved your writing when you got older."

I hope I will always improve. I know I'll always try to... The thing about writing is you don’t have to retire, ever.

"I enjoyed when you read us the story. I think you did a good job."

Thank you. I practiced by reading out loud to my dog.

"I like books that you write. You make me like to write books. I hope you could write more fun books."

Aw! You're so sweet!

What would you have done if you weren’t an author?

This is a hard question, because my life would be quite different if I hadn’t chosen writing, and it’s hard to imagine that different life. But I suppose I can, because making things up is sort of a requirement for being a writer. I like children, and I like helping others, so I would guess that if I couldn’t be a writer, I would have been a teacher or a children’s librarian. Maybe even an astronaut if I can trade in my near-sighted eyes. Can we arrange that?

It’s a funny thing how writing can change your life. I used to be quite shy, and I didn’t say much in school. I’ve met so many interesting people because I became a writer, and I’ve done so many things that I couldn’t have pictured myself doing when I was younger—like volunteering in Nepal.

Writing has made me brave.

Best wishes,
Jennifer J. Stewart

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Swamplandia! by Karen Russell was so perfect, that I had to start rereading it. You go read it, too. I have her other books—short story collections—on reserve at the library.

I also read another novel set in Florida, Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. It was the only book mentioned in Amy Hill Hearth’s Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women’s Literary Society that I hadn’t read. If you haven’t read Zora Neale Hurston, there is a hole in your life that this book will fill.

If you’re in Tucson, you might like to sign up for Altrusa’s Laps for Literacy 5K Fun Run/Walk. Rumor has it a certain children’s author will be dressed as The Cat in the Hat… I don’t know who that would be. I don’t know any children’s author who loves dressing up in costume.***

Another Tucson event—I’m attending the keynote tomorrow—is a three day FREE conference, Victory Over Violence.

I released If That Breathes Fire, We’re Toast! as an e-book, joining Close Encounters of a Third-World Kind. You can buy them at Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon. Bestselling author Rhody Cohon did the formatting for me.

Finally, my daughter Miranda is blogging! If you’ve ever wondered what the life of an aspiring director/model/actor is like, she’ll tell you.

***I am a big fat liar.

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I used to hate to shop for clothes. They may be featured in magazines on skyscraper tall models, but the clothing in stores usually doesn’t fit the lankier frame, i.e. one like mine. I’m an inch shy of being a six-footer. Two of my three daughters are six footers, and the youngest is not so shrimpy; she’s five foot nine.

But now I love to shop, because it’s fun! The four of us have discovered thrift stores and consignment shops. Prowling these outlets becomes a treasure hunt, except you don’t really know what the treasure is going to be until you lay your hands on it.

Rarely do I go into a store with a goal in mind; I flip through the racks, usually going up and down a size. Women’s sizing is not standard, and one maker’s size 8 will be another’s 10. The cut of the garment also matters.

Something I’ve noticed is that the more expensive clothes—that is, they were expensive to begin with—are more likely to fit me. I’m not sure why this is, but I’ll take it. Especially if the original tags are still on the garment, which happens more often than you might think.

Some recent acquisitions:
BCBG Max Azria dress, perfect for two holiday parties
Louis Feraud red dress, perfect for a fancy holiday party
Calvin Klein blue cotton dress, which will be great when the weather warms up
Vince Camuto striped silk dress, just for fun
Talbot’s jacket, woven with my favorite blues and greens, good with nice jeans
Lauren Ralph Lauren jacket, black and white herringbone
Lucy workout top
White House / Black Market shrug—not sure what I’ll wear this over yet

And what’s wonderful is if you try on the dress or the shirt or the sweater at home and notice something off-putting about it, that you didn’t notice in the store, well, there is scant remorse, considering the price you paid. You return it, or you donate it back to the thrift store—most of them are operated for charity, after all, so this is what I prefer to do.

If you bought something with a tag that says “Dry Clean Only,” because you did not pay a pretty penny for it, you can take a risk and hand-wash it. I haven’t ruined anything yet by ignoring that label.

These are my favorite haunts in Tucson: Assistance League, Casa de Los Niños, Goodwill (Tanque Verde location), The Green Monkey, Salvation Army (Tanque Verde location), and The Teal Saguaro (new!).

I still have to buy shoes and most jeans and pants new, but on-line, because I have big feet and need a longer inseam. I’ve rarely gotten lucky with pants.

P.S. In case you are wondering, I buy most of my books new, or check them out at the library.

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So, it’s the second day of 2013, and I’m blowing the dust off this blog. *Cough* I’m not sure I have any readers left, because I haven’t been reading other blogs or commenting on them, or obviously writing in this journal. I know I set up a way to aggregate all the blogs I was following (perhaps in google reader, I think?), and then promptly forgot about it. Well, actually I hurt myself running, and pain has a way of making you drop some of the balls you're juggling. I’m better now, but my physical therapy regimen keeps me busy.

Okay, it was that kind of year, a recuperating kind, because I had elective surgery in the summer. But for others, it was much worse, and I am blessed in comparison, and I have absolutely nada to complain about.

Anyway… there’s always a bit of an organizational frenzy going on in the early days of a shiny new year. I’ve been rearranging my office, hauling books to the library where they can find a new home or be sold to benefit the Friends, totaling up my business mileage for 2012 (most of it driving to and from the library), and eyeing the tax form I need to fill out for book sales (not actually filling it out, mind, just letting it sit there and taunt me). Tomorrow seems like a good time to tackle it.

I don’t really have any resolutions for 2013. I know I intend to read more. Recent favorites include The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Urrea, Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant, The Truth About Style by Stacy London, and Where’d You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple. I’m currently rereading Football for Dummies because the Broncos are in the Play-Offs!

On the nightstand are Elizabeth George’s first young adult novel, The Edge of Nowhere, Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women’s Literary Society by Amy Hill Hearth, and Swamplandia! by Karen Russell.

It looks like it’s going to be a good year. I hope yours will be, too.

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I am looking forward to a new project, which will almost certainly be a novel, once I finish revising the current one. So the back of my mind is noodling about what that could be, but I won’t allow the front of my mind to think too hard about it. Yet.

Because right now, I’m in the middle. Or is that in the muddle? Of revision. I’m figuring out what to keep, what to dump, using as my filter this question: Is it advancing my story or not? Is the theme/hook front and center? And the whole thing about making sure I have one.

P.S. For anyone who fancies herself or himself a patron of the arts, my oldest daughter will be directing an indie movie next year, if the funding needed for production costs comes through kickstarter. I was privileged to read the screenplay by Benjamin Klema, and it’s a wonderful, character-driven story.
P.P.S. If you’ve been watching SyFy’s Face Off series, my daughter is one of the models. Check her out in the "Pirate Treasure" episode. She’s the one with anemones in her hair and daggers stuck through her rib cage.

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It has been a long hot summer. Okay, it’s Arizona, so that’s pretty much a given.

It’s also been a waiting summer. In June, I had surgery on my leg, and I waited to recover. Waited longer than I wanted to. Complained about it a lot. Watched Bollywood movies. Read until I got tired of reading.

And I’m still waiting, actually, because I’m not completely back to normal, but now I ignore the discomfort and go to the gym. I have a feeling the discomfort will be with me now.

Anyway, turns out that if you don’t go to the gym for a month, you lose ground. So, to make up for that, I am doing a beginners running workout, which I found in the Australian edition of SHAPE magazine. In eight weeks, I might be able to run non-stop for 30 minutes. But first, I have to be patient. During the first week of workouts, I walked for three minutes, and ran for two, repeating until it added up to 30 minutes. Second week, I will progress to two minutes of walking, three minutes of running. And rinse and repeat.

I feel a lot of things are conspiring to teach me patience. In the children’s book business, there is a lot of waiting, and I have a tendency to go squirrelly while waiting. I wish I didn’t, but there it is.

Then the dog showed up, a few days before the 4th of July. He hung out in our front yard, in the desert to the east of our driveway, and I could see him from my kitchen window. He was big and so skinny you could count every rib. I put out water for him. He ran off into the desert. I put out food—cat food, I didn’t think he would care—and he ran off into the desert. But later, from the kitchen window, I watched him come back and eat it.

His den is under a hackberry bush. A few feet away, he keeps a slowly decomposing foreleg of a deer, as far as I can tell, his only nourishment unless he gets lucky with roadkill. Maybe he took deer leg from a mountain lion kill.

So I began feeding the dog, morning and night, and talking to him softly, telling him what a good boy he is, and that he didn’t need to be frightened of me. And little by little, he started trusting me.

Now, in the evening I sit on a sun-warmed stone and offer the dog treats. And after some careful circling, Hobo will come and eat them from my hand.

He won’t let me touch him yet, although he touches my hand with his mouth, and once he licked my palm.

Hobo teaches me patience, and maybe, I am finally learning. I don’t really call him “my dog” yet, although tomorrow it will be September. Maybe when he lets me stroke his ears… they look soft.

I just have to be—you guessed it.

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Getting your driver's license is a rite of passage, a laminated ticket proving that someone at the DMV trusts you to operate a moving vehicle. You press pedal to the metal and speed off all by yourself, feeling sexy and free, even if it's only your parents' Toyota Corolla you're driving.

Getting behind the wheel of a minivan is a rite of motherhood, and there is nothing sexy about it. Mine was a 1996 Plymouth Voyager. It was a big white box for transporting children, and I nicknamed her "Lurch." That first morning, when I backed her out of the driveway, all three small daughters in their own individual seats, not able to touch each other, I knew peace. Until the youngest, who had begged to be allowed to drink from a juice box, gagged on the straw and threw up grape juice all over herself and the new upholstery.

Labor day Weekend, my husband and I loaded up Lurch and went camping, listening to Pippi Longstocking on the way to the Chiricahua National Monument. My youngest and I flew back in a helicopter, after that Swedish minx suggested it was okay to eat mushrooms you found in forests.

Fast forward a few years, and I caught my daughter drawing on the walls. "You can't draw inside," I told her, "but you may decorate Lurch's outside." I handed over the bathtub crayons. She drew colorful winged cats, fairies, skulls, and whatever caught her fancy. When I tired of the designs, 409 would take them off, and she would have a fresh canvas. For years, I would notice strangers eyeing me at stoplights, but it was really the zebra on my minivan they were admiring.

Piano lessons, riding lessons, horse shows, gymnastics class, play rehearsals—there was nowhere Lurch wouldn't go. And as I waited for whichever daughter to be done with whatever activity, I wrote three novels, sitting in the back seat, which still smelled faintly grape.

The children grew, they learned to drive, and finally the last one left for college in the fall. She wanted a car, and I said she couldn't have one, unless she wanted the minivan. She declined. She had graduated from painting Lurch's panels to painting murals around town, ones no one takes 409 to.

Over the years, Lurch racked up the miles, 186,894, to be exact. And she began failing, bit by expensive bit. First the packrat chewed her wiring. My husband backed her into a pole. The A/C sucked Freon and was single-handedly destroying the ozone layer. Finally, the ABS could not be fixed, the windows wouldn't roll down, the radiator leaked. I couldn't trust Lurch more than five miles from home. I knew it was time.

I arranged for her to be donated, with auction proceeds going to Habitat for Humanity. It seemed appropriate. That is what she had been for us, our home away from home.

Farewell, Lurch. You've hauled precious cargo.

Rust in pieces.

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I’ll be at the Hollywood Fringe Festival this weekend, catching two new one act plays, “A Part” and “Funeral Party.”

My daughter, Miranda Stewart, is directing!

Details here, if you live in or near Los Angeles.

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I always have to have a book to read. And I’ve been reading some good ones lately:

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins—Okay, this is one of those classics I always meant to read, but never got around to until now. Collins’s The Woman in White was eminently readable, and so is this, and so much funnier. The first narrator, Betteredge, is a devotee of the novel Robinson Crusoe, and given to reading from a random page when he is flustered. This novel was the first detective story ever written, and the characters really do leap off the page.

One for The Murphys by Lynda Mullaly Hunt—I fell in love with this book on the first page, when Carley is leaving the hospital with her social worker, who has told her to quit messing with the car door lock. And Carley thinks,

I love it when people use the word please but they sound like they want to remove your face.

This middle grade novel will make you laugh and cry, and sometimes both at the same time.

Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher—Carrie Fisher is funny, a poster child for Bipolar disease, descended from Hollywood royalty, and not afraid to dish the dirt on her somewhat effed-up life. This is a quick read which will leave you laughing.

The Food Revolution: How Your Diet Can Help Save your Life and Our World by John Robbins—I heard Robbins speak recently, and if his name sounds vaguely familiar, it’s because he was heir to the Baskin-Robbins ice cream fortune, until he walked away to devote himself to bigger social, ecological, and political issues. The hunger chapter really opened my eyes.

Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World by Lisa Bloom—Lisa Bloom is passionate about taking a stand in the world, and to do that you need to free up your time to be book-smart, then get around to changing the world. I admit that since I read her book, I've visited the New York Times on-line, and am thinking about a subscription, since you only get 10 free articles a month.

The next book on my nightstand is Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Against Wind and Tide: Letters and Journals, 1947-1986, edited by her daughter Reeve Lindbergh. On the flap copy, the title is attributed to Harriet Beecher Stowe, “who claimed that writing, for a wife and mother, is ‘rowing against wind and tide.’”

In my CD player for gym use is Stephen King's 11/22/63, which should keep me going on the elliptical machine and the treadmill. It will probably help me lift weights, too.

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It’s lovely to go on vacation and loll around reading—I don’t get to do it often enough, meaning I don’t get to devote four hours a day to it normally. Obviously, I read every day. Here are some of the books I enjoyed recently:

Believing the Lie by Elizabeth George—Lynley and Havers—what more could you want? If you love mysteries, this is the one series you have to read.

Deaf Sentence by David Lodge—He hits the proverbial nail on the head when he writes that blindness is tragedy, while deafness is comedy (“Smoke Gets in Your Ears” anyone?), although really, it’s no less heart breaking. It’s a wonderful book to savor, and you will understand what it is really like to become hard of hearing. Lucky Jim grown up.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler, illustrations by Maira Kalman—I didn’t want to break up with these characters. I demand a sequel. Pretty please? This is the kind of book that makes me not want to start reading another book, because it probably won’t live up to this one. I know I will, but still.

I need to choose a book to read for my next Book Club season. Any literary suggestions? The other members kind of object to 900 page novels, although I’ve done it before.

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I was reading this article in O Magazine’s March issue, and was dismayed to recognize myself. Yes, dear reader, it appears I am a book hoarder. In Walsh’s terms, that makes me a knowledge hoarder.

If I had an e-reader, it wouldn’t be as obvious that I have an overflowing bookshelves problem, I suppose. I could still collect books, just in a teeny tiny format. But they wouldn’t add to the R-value of my walls. Books work as insulation, don’t they?

But they do take up a lot of room in my suitcase, as I am recently back from vacation. While I was away, I read Elizabeth George’s latest Lynley and Havers novel (Believing the Lie). Her novel could be used as an actual door stopper, not that I would ever ill-use a book so. I think I have seen the light—the actual lightening up—of bringing along an e-reader when traveling.

Also, carry-ons have shrunk, which makes me think I should shrink my traveling books.

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When you are noodling around, trying to come up with an idea for a new writing project, you get a lot done at home. I am frequently the Mistress of Disorganization, but not this week. Here are some of the things I got accomplished. Go, me!

Recycling—Magazines, begone! Catalogs, begone! And I even removed all the staples with the stapler eater. However, I think I now might have carpal thumb syndrome.

Catalog Choice—I got added to many mailing lists when I subscribed to magazines when I redeemed expiring airline miles. Also, my late mother, who did not have a computer or really understand what everyone was doing on the internet, received every catalog known to womankind. Because I forwarded her mail, now they all come to my house. Anyway, Catalog Choice is a wonderful site that will take you off mailing lists. So, farewell Appleseed’s and your old lady clothes, Auf Wiedersehen Brookstone, bye bye Chasing Fireflies, goodnight Garnet Hill (you should make clothing in tall sizes), don’t darken my doorstep anymore Norm Thompson and your old lady clothes, and aloha Title Nine (you should also make clothing in tall sizes).

Cleaned my house—La la, I hired a cleaning gentleman to do it for me.

Found the top of my desk—After much excavation and filing, it appeared. It would be nice if the universe would arrange a book deal for me, so that I can donate the successive drafts taking up space in my filing cabinet.

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