Brockport, Je T'aime. Part Deux.

More pics from the Open-Eyed Sneeze event at Esther's. Thanks again everyone!

Brockport, Je T'aime.

The third leg of the Open-Eyed Sneeze Tour brought me back to my hometown, Brockport, NY. Thanks to the generosity of Esther's Farm Market, I was able to have the book event in the most appropriate Brockport venue imaginable.

I worked at Esther's throughout high school when my family's farm ran the market and I spent countless hours serving up ice cream, laughing with friends, selling pumpkins and apples in the fall, corn and strawberries in the summertime, Christmas trees in the winter, you name it. The job was a blast and I have so many smile lines because of the memories I made there. I loved that I was able to reconnect with so many wonderful people from my past in the market that sits on my family's farm. It felt exactly how coming home should feel.

I'm also so incredibly lucky to come from a town where people always nod and smile genuinely when you share an idea. Do you know how freeing it is to have that kind of support? People route for each other in Brockport. It's freaking amazing and completely humbling.

OK, love letter over. But a huge thank you to the following people:

-Carolyn and Esther's Farm Market

-My mom and Mrs. Koutras for decorating the Market like something from a French Country magazine geared toward boutique literary events involving old farm equipment and cookies. It's a niche magazine. Limited circulation.

-The amazing people who came to support the book and say hello. I loved seeing all of you!

-Brockport Schools. So proud of my public school education.

-The town in general for being such a friendly place to grow up. Nice people are underrated but 10 times out of ten will make your day.

Mrs. Koutras and my mom spent the morning putting the finishing touches on the market and made me wait outside for the reveal. Here's video of the pre-event reveal.

More pics to come! Thanks again B-town!

Yay Brockport!

Check out this nice mention of the Brockport Open-Eyed Sneeze event!

Thanks, Mrs. Radack!

I attribute my love of telling stories to three defining factors in my early life.

1) My Aunt Sophie's kitchen table.

When we were kids and would visit my family in Long Island, I used to love to wake up in the morning and find everyone sitting around my Aunt Sophie's kitchen table eating Entenmann's, drinking coffee, and laughing. I would squeeze my little fat kid self around the table, kissing everyone good morning, looking for find a good seat for coffee cake (obvi) and the best people-watching view. My mom's side of the family is very good at telling and listening to stories and the exchanges that took place in that kitchen really made me appreciate things like timing, facial expressions, the importance of not laughing at your own joke until other people have started to laugh-- basically, I learned how to tell a story out loud by listening to what worked around that table.

It should be noted that my mom's side of the family is quite loud and the huge bursts of laughter that followed some stories fascinated me. I wanted to know what caused that laughter, why some things people said just cracked everyone up so much. So I spent my time shoving my face with chocolate covered donuts watching everyone as a story was told. I learned a lot about a lot about repetition, a lot about the importance of the unexpected, and a lot about repetition. One of the biggest accomplishments that I can point to in my life is when I first told a story around that table that made everyone laugh until they cried. I felt like I had figured something out.

2) Bunk Beds.

Nessa and I shared bunk beds when we were little and before we went to sleep every night she'd ask me to tell her a story. I'd ask her to give me character names and a word, any word, and I'd make up a little story. I never knew when she fell asleep because she was on top bunk and I think that lack of pressure, just being able to talk and talk helped me think about what I liked to talk about. The things that I like to talk about are pretty much the same things that I like to write about.

3) My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Radack.

Mrs. Radack was the first person outside of my family to see something in my writing. She used to read the stories I wrote as soon as I finished them and I'm convinced that her incredibly positive feedback and encouragement gave me the confidence I needed at that age. Encourage a kid, people! You have know idea what it might do for them! (Cue music and star graphic: The more you know...)

Anyway, I received this email from Mrs. Radack and I had to share. Note: Perhaps my Ontario video report is a video blog for the future.

Dear Jessica
I am very disappointed that I can't attend your book signing. I am going to Philadelphia to visit my daughter and we have tickets to see the phillies play. I would like five copies of your book please. One for me and four others: Emily, Jane, and two more.
I wish you all the best. I certainly enjoyed the writing of your ten year old self...the description of the fishing show pops into my mind. The video report of Ontario was also very memorable.
I hope to make your next book signing.
Love
Mary Radack

Homegrown.

Returning to Brockport and the farm for a book event next Saturday, June 25th. If you read this and live in the area, I'd love to see you. It's going to be a lot of fun! Or not. But won't not knowing drive you crazy?

Wait Mr. Postman!

If I were to give a guided tour of the journey of my book and its attempts to be published, I'd have pit stops at post offices around the country. The United States Postal Service and my book have a long history.

It all started in a little post office in the Haight in San Francisco, where I waited with seven thick envelopes full of query letters and sample chapters to be sent out to the first round of literary agents. I remember everything about that day. Waiting in the long line, fanning all the envelopes out so people around me could see the addresses in New York and key words like, "Agency" and "Books" and "Media Group." I desperately wanted someone to ask me what I was sending because I was so excited about it. No one did. But I remember sending texts to my most important people as soon as I left the post office. "Sent them out!"

This was back in early 2007. After numerous returns to that post office in the Haight, I made my way to the post office in Astoria, Queens where I continued to search for representation for my manuscript. Those visits were somewhat less charming. The most horrible man in the world worked the window there and never cared what I was doing. I hated the Queens post office and wasted a lot of time and a lot of money sending things out there.

The tiny tiny little post office in Clarkson, NY was always good to me, and the postal employee smiled as I came in once a week with a new batch of samples to be sent out. "I'm trying to publish a book" I sheepishly offered one day. He just smiled and nodded.

What was I expecting?

When I moved to Boston, I sent almost everything out by email. It was cheaper, faster, and preferred by almost everyone in the publishing industry. The JP post office is important to me because that's where I sent off my agent/author agreement when I finally found representation. We all know how that turned out...

Anyway, today I went to the post office to send out a few new orders. People have been buying my book online and I just about pee my pants every time this happens. When the postal worker asked me if the envelope contained anything perishable, poisonous, flammable, blah blah blah, I answered no.

"Is it a book?" he asked.

"You got it. Good guess." I replied.

Looking around, not even thinking of it, it struck me that I was sending out the actual book that had lived so many different stages of its life in post offices. Getting excited and not thinking of my volume I shouted, "It's my book!" Checking myself and returning to an indoor voice I said, "I wrote the book in there."

Nodding and smiling the way I've seen a thousand times before in post offices he said, "Good for you, hon."

It made my entire freaking day.

Schmear and Schmooze.

On Tuesday Zaftigs Delicatessen hosted the Boston launch for my book. I also happen to work at said Delicatessen. This entire event was the brainchild of my boss Harvey, and I owe him a huge thank you for all his efforts! Also, A huge thank you to Bob and Holly for their incredible generosity of the space, the amazing food, and all the wine.

Note to self: Free wine and book signings do not mix well. The most cringe-worthy note signed to none other than my girlfriend's mother, "Thank you from the bottom of my bottom."

Doh.

It was a wonderful evening with coworkers, my favorite regulars, amazing Boston buddies, family, and friends of friends. A sincere thank you to everyone who came!

Just rolling all my books in a suitcase to a deli. nbd.

Better Late Than Never.

In case you missed it, here are my remarks at the event in New York. Having to listen to myself speak is painful but I decided to post this anyway because it's sort of the culmination of everything this blog was about for the last five years-- getting my book out there. Thanks again to everyone who came to the launch in NYC and thank you to all of you who have read the book!

Note: The microphone system at the venue was a little weird and if I held the mic more than a centimeter away from my face, music turned on. That might help explain why the sound is horrible.

Note 2: We should all be so lucky as to have one person in the audience who is always willing to laugh the loudest.

Hope to see Boston people tonight! I'm thinking I won't do a reading but instead, an extended rant about babies in restaurants. "There's a baby on the floor. Whose baby is this?"

Friendly Reminder! Tomorrow Night.

I Heart Farmers and My Hometown.

I'm trying to plan a hometown event for the book and my mother suggested that I ask to use Esther's. It's probably one of the better ideas she has ever had.

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, Esther's is a dream. Trivia Note: Esther is my great-grandma. It used to be my family's farm market and ice cream shop until a dairy farmer friend of my father's took it over. It's pretty much the best thing about Brockport in the summer. Warm nights, good laughs, ridiculously delicious cones, and the calm of farm fields all around you. What's not to love?

I have to say, my dad has some of the nicest friends around. When he and my mom talked to Carolyn (the owner) about the possibility of having a Brockport event at the store, she didn't even hesitate. "You tell her to call me."

So because I like to think I've learned a thing or two from Sabrina, I had a list of questions written out and ideas to discuss with Carolyn when I called today. Here's how the conversation went:

C: Hello?

Me: Hi Carolyn! This is Jessica Martin, Steve's daughter.

C: Oh, hi Jessica! [Loud noises]

Me: Have I called you at a bad time?

C: Well, it's a nice day out. Ice cream and nice days, you know.

Me: Right, well I'll call you tomorrow. Is that OK?

C: No, it's fine. You want to do the book signing here, right? Anything you want to do. Whenever you want to do it.

Me: Wow, thank you! In terms of setting a time?

C: We open at noon and close at dusk.

Me: Right. Perfect. I'll be in touch.

C: OK, Bye!

I looked down to my paper and stared at the only note I had taken-- "Noon-Dusk."

This is my kind of event planning.

Stay tuned for more info!

Boston Leg of The Tour!

Hey, if you live in the Boston area will you please come to this?! OK, thanks.

Open-Eyed Sneeze NYC Launch!

The book launch in New York was a great success thanks to my sisters, my family, my girl, and the incredibly supportive people who braved the pouring rain to come to Tribeca to hear a first-time author read for a few minutes. It was pretty much the coolest thing to ever happen in my professional life-- particularly considering I don't actually have a professional life.

To all the people who were at the event, I know this seems sudden, but I'm madly in love with you. Thanks so much for the encouragement and for making it a really fun night!

With all that said, I nearly missed the entire thing.

My sister Sabrina is a master organizer and had the evening planned out to the minute. She arranged for a car service to pick us up in Queens at 4:30 (champagne toast at her apartment at 4:15) giving us more than enough time to beat traffic and set things up at the venue. With the downpour and city traffic, I sat sweating in the back of the car as Brina turned around every 10 minutes saying, "We're going to be late." Noticing that I was growing more and more panicked as our car barely crept, Nessa made fun of me relentlessly. Chewing her gum in a way she knew would annoy me, and using a voice that she assumed would do the same, she foofed her hair and said, "Gonna be late, Jess? Late to the launch? You might miss it. Might miss the big launch."

It was not helpful.

Anyway, we made it, people came, books sold, success!

Thanks again everyone!

The Boston Event is scheduled for Tuesday June 7th 5:00-7:00 PM. If you're in the area, save the date!

Refreshing.

Michael: You can't chew gum in here.

Me: It's not gum, it's a mint.

Michael: Oh, it smells good. What flavor is it?

Me: Um... Mint.

The Best Game Since Hat or Hair.

The rules for Hat or Hair can be found here but What Would You Buy Me? is just as easily explained.

Window shopping is always more fun when playing a quick round of, What Would You Buy Me?

You Don't Understand My Music.

I was on the T this morning and overheard a conversation between two strangers. The man who started the conversation was clearly drunk and the guy going along with the whole thing was incredibly patient. We'll call him Bill. Here's how it went:

Drunk guy: I'm a musician too, man.

Bill: Oh yeah? What do you play?

Drunk Guy: Awww, man! Rock & Roll, Jazz Fusion, R&B.

Bill: That's great.

Drunk Guy: [Closes his eyes and starts singing. Horribly. Slowly. Each word of his made up song is 35 beats and at least five different key changes. Everyone on the train turns to look at him.]

After a few minutes of singing a song called "Stay in my corner" (those were the only words) Bill smiled and said to the man, "You have a very nice voice."

Opening his eyes wide with annoyance, the drunk guy replied, "Man, I'm a drummer!"

I Always Route For The Underdog.

I had a waitress at Waffle House once who was wearing a button that said, "I'm #2."

I loved it so much I sort of adopted it as a mantra.

Anyway, my book is in the bookstore window and its location could not be any more perfect.

I love my life.

Show-Offs.

I've been seeing a lot of unicycle riders around town lately. What's that about?

It's obviously not a more convenient form of travel and honestly, it's just a little too showy for my taste. It's like screaming, "Hey! Look what I can do!" everywhere you go. People who can juggle don't walk down the street juggling. When I see people on unicycles I find myself rolling my eyes and then waiting for them to get to some sort of hill.

My friend said she saw a guy locking his unicycle to a bike rack. Really, unicycle guy? You think someone who also knows how to ride a unicycle is going to steal your wheel?

What would that getaway look like?

"Hey! Stop him! He stole my Uni!"

"What's that?

"My unicycle! Stop him!"

"You could probably just go walk over and ask him to give it back. He's not going very fast."

I'd like to see a chase scene between a unicycle, a pogo-stick, someone wearing moon shoes, and a guy on one of those little butt scooters that we used to use in gym class. And when the person wearing moon shoes gets away, this is how the scene ends:

Book For Sale!

Well, it's official! Open-Eyed Sneeze can now be found on bookstore (singular) shelf, and is available for sale on the interwebs. Here is the link to buy the book!

Boston people, save on shipping and head to the Harvard Book Store to pick up your copy! Or, write me and I can get you one. I know a guy.

After May 18th, I will also be selling copies of the book through this blog via completely secure PayPal.

Options abound!

I posted the news about the book being available last night on Facebook, and the response from friends from my hometown was awesome. That town deserves its own shout out, and that's coming soon, but I have to say, Brockport is good people. Even when people leave and start lives in other places, something stays with them from that town. And we all know what it is.

It's the extreme desire to have a Wegmans.

Anyway, when I called to tell my mom that Sarah Schram was the first person ever to purchase my book, she started laughing with excitement and then burst out crying. My sisters had similar freak out responses. I love that my whole family knows the people who are buying my book by name. Score one, little indie press.

So, it's a really fun time for my first book! Read it! Tell a friend! Stretch!

(That doesn't relate, it's just really important to stretch.)

Thanks, Gram.

For the purposes of this post, it's important to note that my grandma Lorraine is the cutest person ever and I love her like crazy. Whenever we talk on the phone she asks how Mer is doing and gets excited for her when she has exciting things happening. When I told her about Mer's fellowship she said, "Oooooooooh, that sounds nice!" She's sort of ridiculously amazing.

I never know how grandparents will respond to the whole girlfriend thing. When we had Easter dinner at my friend Jane's house last week, I introduced myself to Jane's grandma and casually said, "And this is my girlfriend, Meredith." I thought, well, if she's not down with the gays, maybe she'll think I just mean my friend, and then we can all enjoy ham. But this was her response:

"Oh, one of my best friends when I was young was a Transvestite and I wrote a book about her. You'll sit next to me for dinner."

Grandparents deserve more credit than they're given.

Anyway, a card arrived the other day and saying that I had trouble opening it is an extreme understatement. A recap:

The fact that she included Mer was pretty much the best thing ever. I love you, Gram!

Monday Blooper.

Without further ado... a blooper.

Lots of Pulp.

I was really proud of this joke.

You know what they call a marriage between two Quarter Pounders With Cheese in Paris?

A Royale With Cheese Wedding.

No One Tells Me Anything.

I forgot my phone charger in Chicago so I was without a cell for about a week. Normally this wouldn't mean anything. Nessa never picks up her phone so I wouldn't be missing much there, Sabrina emails constantly and would learn how to send smoke signals if she thought the news was important enough, and my mom and dad usually just want to know what I've been eating for dinner. So when I finally got my charger back and called everyone, I was a little concerned that every phone went straight to voicemail. Did they all lose their chargers too?

Nope. They didn't.

The day after I tried calling them I got an email from Brina with the subject line: Pics from the Spring Gala. The body of the email said only, "Enjoy!"

These are the pics she sent:

Right. Well, I guess it slipped everyone's mind to tell me that my entire family was going to NYC Opera's Gala. Nbd.

But then, THIS picture was in the New York Times!

Here's the article. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/23/nyregion/nocturnalist-hobnobbing-from-the-ground-floor-up.html

It's sort of a Where's Waldo? situation, but if you look under the white floating art piece, you'll see Sabrina's red dress and my mom standing across from her.

Man! I would have LOVED to be in the New York Times! Blerg.

Anyway, mom, you'll be interested to know that I had a delightful seared striped bass the other night. Thankyouverymuch.

Deb Has Changed Her Name To Moonbeam.

Another wonderful email from my mother, who has apparently turned into a hippy.

Jessica,

I am so over the top happy for you. As a parent, to know you feel true happiness gives me a sense of wonderful peacefulness. With you and your sisters pursuing your dreams, I can take a moment and bask in your light. Congrats!

Something about writing emails makes my mom wax poetic. I remember before we all went home for Thanksgiving this year she sent Nessa a lengthy piece about apples.

A Book In The Hand Is Worth 2 Video Posts.

I picked up my proof copy from the printer today and oh boy, was I excited. It was also about 100 million degrees out (I sweat in the winter so yes, 65 is basically 100 million) so I was pretty stoked about that as well.

I thought I would surprise Meredith when she got out of work by sitting outside the hospital reading my book, but she almost walked right past me and I had to scream, "Meredith! Over here!" and then she was like, "What are you doing here?" And I couldn't think of anything clever so I was just like, "Look." and handed it to her.

My life just plays out like a movie sometimes! Magical.

Anyway, I might have one thing changed but then it's a go with printing lots of copies. Maybe you'll read it! That'd be great!

Here are 2 video posts because I'm so happy. One of them is a Rap video. Whaaa? Please excuse my sweaty, dead rat appearance. I was waiting outside for Mer for awhile.

A Moml's Love.

I sent the book cover to my mom yesterday and this was her response:

I am over the top excited to see the fruits of your labor!!! I think I feel like Grandma did when she peered through the door of the birthing room. Your book is born!! I am incredibly humbled and awestruck. I can hardly wait to nurture it along its journey...Congrats, Love, your moml

My poor mom. The closest thing to a grandchild she'll see in awhile is a self-published paperback.

A few years ago around Christmastime, the fridge was covered with pictures of other people's children on holiday cards and my mom interrupted our meal by asking, "Now Jessie, do you think you'll adopt, or would your partner get pregnant?" I held my breath for a minute, deciding if it was worth it to point out that the question was launched from nowhere. Concluding that it wasn't, I answered with, "Mom, I don't even have my own apartment right now. Let's worry about imaginary babies later."

I love you, Mom. You can push a copy of my book on a park swing whenever you want.

Book Cover!

Well folks, here it is! A Geoffrey Gavett original and the cover to my first book. It's laid out like a book jacket here, but you can get the idea.

If I can say a few words about my friend Geoff -- and I can because I'm typing this -- I'd like to do that now.

I liked Geoff before I even knew him. Whenever my friend Lauren would share a story about her boyfriend, I could tell by the way she had to smile that he was an amazing kid. I should mention that Lauren is one of my favorite people ever, so anyone that could make her laugh without actually being present had my immediate seal of approval. Lauren talked about his childlike verve for life, his humor, his energy, his style, his mind, his love for good music and his willingness to be moved by it, and the fact that he would make her breakfast. By the time I finally met him, I was practically his biggest fan.

I had the pleasure of working with him and laughing my arse off on the daily as he used various and believable accents, made up voices for people-watching, invented characters, danced, made funny faces, and spoke at the speed of sound. It was like working with a cartoon character. But better! Because Geoff is also wicked smart and interesting. He loves art and speaks about it with a passion that is tangible. His love for the process of creation-- for making something, anything-- is obvious and it speaks to why his own creativity is seemingly limitless. He has an energy that wakes you up and demands that you try. I dare anyone to have a conversation with him and not feel inspired.

Through music, drawing, painting, graphics, photography, and talking about ideas, Geoff is always evolving. He's just a really cool kid to know and I'm thrilled to call him my bud. Thanks for lending your talents on this project, Geoff!

Below: Cover Artist tries to peer into the soul of the camera. Author says, "Cheese."

Below: The thought bubbles of Cover Artist and author collide and fornicate. It's disturbing.

It's Not Delivery.

Because no one delivers cookies.

I saw a commercial on hulu for this product:

This was my thought process after seeing the ad:

-Mmm, cookies.

-Wait, pizza and cookies? That doesn't make any sense.

-Well, maybe it does.

-No, actually that's pretty gross.

-What, you've never wanted something sweet after pizza?

-I don't remember ever saying, "Pizza! Can't wait to finish this and eat cookies!"

-Well, I've probably said that.

-But pizza and milk? No. It's like when parents order their kid a hot dog and milk.

-Ew, when I think about hot dogs and milk I start to throw up a little.

I actually paused my episode of Parks & Recreation to keep thinking about this product. I found that I wasn't hungry, just confused. Did the advertisers want me to somehow end up thinking about hot dogs? Hot dogs and bunt cake? Is that the next big thing? Semi-related: Have you ever seen a hot dog toaster?

And if pizza and cookies are such good pals, why am I just hearing about it now? If you said to two people, "You go together like pizza and cookies," they'd probably ask you what the hell you meant by that. Because while it sort of makes sense, it mostly doesn't. Or maybe it does.

Anyway, the whole thing sounds like a mall food court mistake.

With that said, I'm getting one.

Flashmob.

It's the homestretch to get the word out about Open-Eyed Sneeze and if anything can get people talking, it's a flashmob. I debated trying to get those Filipino prisoners to somehow mention that I was publishing a book, but logistically, I thought a flashmob made more sense.

Prison correspondence can be so slow.

This was my first attempt at organizing a flashmob, so clearly there's a learning curve. Making sure you mention the correct time for everyone to be there is something to remember. Also, sending the alert out to more than just your immediate family in New York is a good tip. Especially if the flashmob is held in Chicago.

Overall, things could have gone worse.

Note: The security officer at The Bean was following me for the entire time we filmed.

That's true.

Monday Contest and Blooper.

The book launch for Open-Eyed Sneeze is quickly approaching and today's contest concerns the signature drink that will be served at the event. I'd like to call it the Open-Eyed Sneeze, but any great drink name will work.

Create the winning signature cocktail, win an invite to the launch! It's that easy! And my parents will be at this party, so if you've never had the pleasure, it might be worth it to try to think of a fun beverage.

And now, a random clip.

Insert Appropriate Title.

I guess I don't have anything else to say about this.

Soup, There It Is.

Thank you to everyone for playing! The names have been collected and written down on wooden tokens and put in a sock. I am now choosing one wooden token and--just a second. Sorry, it's actually a lot harder to get a wooden token out of a sock than you might imagine.

There we go.

Ahem.

Ladies and gentleman, the randomly selected 2011 soup quote winner is (drumroll, high hat, improvised solo...) Gordon!

Unfortunately, Gordon lives in California. Hmm.

The second randomly selected wooden token name is (drumroll, slide whistle, didgeridoo...) Andrea!

Ok, she doesn't live in Boston either. There were restrictions, people.

Modern problems call for modern answers. Here's what I'll do. Winners, if at all interested, we can eat soup together via Skype.

Let me know.

Monday Contest and Blooper.

That's right! I've started something new on the blog and every Monday for the next few weeks, I'll be posting a contest and at least one blooper for your time-wasting convenience.

This week's contest: Soup With The Author!

Have you ever wanted to have a cup of soup with a self-published author? Now you can! Simply text "Soup" to Open-Eyed Sneeze-- wait, scratch that. I have no way of making that happen. Don't text anything. Simply post your favorite quote about soup to the blog or the facebook page and one randomly selected quote about soup wins! I'll buy your soup, we'll talk or not talk, it'll be a video post!

Is this the best contest you've ever seen? Why, yes. Yes it is. Winner will be posted tomorrow.

Note: Soup will be eaten in the Boston area.

(If I get even one response to this I'll consider it a success.)

And now, a blooper:

Brainstorming With The Peeps.

I didn't understand the assignment.

It's A Strategy Game.

How can you get people to follow something online without annoying them daily? I imagine it's the most common question in marketing. I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I haven't come up with anything.

Justin Bieber has 24 million followers on facebook. That's a lot. How are all those people not constantly annoyed? He's probably figured out what works because he started as baby and the internet existed when he was a baby, so he had an advantage there. Starting early helps, I guess. I notice a lot of people put ultrasound pictures of their babies on facebook. Technically, those kids have one up on The Bieb. Web presence before fingernails. How can you beat that?

The pop song you dance to in 2022 will be sung by a kid who says things in interviews like, "Yeah, I've always loved to reach out to my fans. I sent my first tweet from the womb. My first hit was under the name DJ embrYO, and it was basically just that swooshing heartbeat sound you hear in the doctor's office combined with a few 'Jah's!' We sold 36 million singles of that song on the day I was born."

I'm interested in what makes people follow something online. I don't even check the weather daily. I've been caught in the rain without an umbrella five different times this year so you might think I'd have more of an interest in forecasts, but you'd be wrong.

When I met up with Molly she said her most popular blog post was the review she wrote for the Miley Cyrus movie, The Last Song. Clearly, this was a google search thing. So, I'm thinking (Justin Bieber getting married) that if I (Justin Bieber dates biggest fan) insert certain phrases (Justin Bieber shaves head) people will stumble upon my blog (Justin Bieber Ticket Giveaway).

It's worth a shot.

Has Trouble Focusing.

Tried things out with the new camera and then spent over an hour screaming at it because I couldn't get it to focus.

All in all, this first attempt went as expected.

Stay tuned for video blogs, people!

#This Doesn't @Make Any RT Sense

I hate Twitter.

Hate is a strong word, and millions of people can't be wrong so maybe it's me, but every time I sit down to tweet I get upset. We're talking temper tantrum upset. On Sunday morning Meredith asked me, "Are you going to do a morning tweet?" and I just about lost it.

Mer: It's one little sentence!

Me: It's STUPID!!!!!!

Mer: Just write one funny little hello.

Me: How about I write, "Hi, dummies. I hate twitter."

Mer: You're being ridiculous.

I'm just finding out about this deep-seated disdain. I started a twitter page a few days ago after having one of the most inspiring discussions of my life with the incredible Molly Galler. Molly is synergy personified. She talked about PR being a strategy game and discussed said strategies with an energy that was tangible. I was sold. The girl knows her stuff and can create more buzz than a can of four loko, so when she says, "Tweet!" you tweet.

However, three seconds into setting up my account, I realized I had no clue what was going on, I really struggled to say something witty with limited characters, and I didn't want to play anymore.

It immediately reminded me of my childhood swim lessons.

As a fat kid who hated to be told to jump into water, I loathed swimming lessons. Every week was a battle between me and my mom as I cried, begged, and screamed about not wanting to swim. The outbursts out of the pool were bad, too.

So I think part of the reason I got upset about twitter on Sunday was that while Meredith was making points that I didn't want to hear--It might be fun! You have to start somewhere!

Just once a day!--I felt like little kid me shivering in a bathing suit trying to clearly state why I didn't want to participate.

All I came up with was, "I don't want to!"

I'll have to sit down at some point and learn about it. #Blerg.#

Going Viral.

In an effort to increase my web presence, I've decided to make a viral video. 

What do we know about viral videos?

1) Anything with cats works. 

2) Anything with kids coming from the dentist is sure to please.

3) The Chocolate Rain guy will be singing that song for the rest of his life. 

These are all good starting points but I need something cutting edge and controversial. I need body double face replacement.   

Right. So all I need is a good special effects person because I have the video.

I'm picturing my face subbed in for all these little children-- except the one girl who keeps smiling. She can stay.

And then at the end I want to turn into a swan.

If You're Not Doing Anything...

And you're not, because you're reading this-- will you take three seconds to "like" my author facebook page? 

What's in it for me, you ask?

Well, you selfish bastard, I'll tell you what's in it for you.

1) If anything ever happens with this first book you can say that you helped publish it. 

2) You might laugh. This isn't a promise. 

3) I'm planning some things for promotional purposes that could be pretty cool. 

4) You're still reading this meaning that you already could have liked the page and saved us both a few minutes. 

Thanks in advance! Up top!

Also, I take requests and suggestions are always welcome.

sssssssshhhhh!

Listening to other people eat fruit disgusts me. Apples and bananas are particularly gross. 

The woman sitting across from me at the library is eating both. 

She also has the sniffles. 

I want to unlace my hightop and throw it at her head. 

Misled.

My coworker Olivia has a very dry sense of humor that totally appeals to me. She's mastered the straight-face delivery of hilarious lines and usually says the funniest things under her breath when no one else is listening. So of course, when she volunteers a story by prefacing it with, "You'd appreciate this," I'm all ears. 

Speaking slowly and with classic non-expression she said, "Yesterday one of my customers sent her macaroni and cheese back after one bite saying it wasn't what she expected."

Go Team!

So things are moving along with the book. I've decided to self-publish and then promote the poop out of it using whatever outlets I can. "Promote the poop out of it" is an industry term. (Note to self: Buy the domain name promotethepoopoutofit.com)

Here's the recent progress:

-I purchased a camera and will soon be posting video blogs. Stay tuned for that awkward mess.

-I'm thrilled to announce that my incredibly talented friend Geoff Gavett has agreed to design the Open-Eyed Sneeze book cover! It's going to be amazing. 

-Boston's PR darling, Molly Galler, has generously offered her talents to help with my efforts to expand my base. Molly's middle name is actually Twitter.

Seriously.

-Sabrina Rae, event-planner extraordinaire, is planning the initial book launch in NYC. Details to follow. 

-Debra Martin, my mother extraordinaire, has offered to make eggplant parmesan for the launch. 

"Mom, it really won't be that kind of party."

"What, people don't like delicious food?"

I'm excited. Maybe it's because I'm a farm girl at heart, but it's fun to watch something grow.

It's Like Missing Christmas.

So apparently I missed National Pancake Day earlier this month. That's a freaking shame because I LOVE pancakes. But in honor of the national observance, I thought I'd share some pics from a night we went to IHOP back in the fall. Let's just say that I had an enjoyable time before IHOP, and therefore had no clue where we were when we sat down. The series of events as follows:

Thought #1: Where are we? 

Thought #2: Oooh, reading material. That's nice.

Thought #3: Hey everybody! They have pancakes here!

Thought #4: Is all-I-can eat pancakes a good idea? Hmm, I think yes.

Thought #5: And coffee! Weeeeeee!

[sip.]

Thought #6: I think I'm going to take this cup home with me.

Note: This experience is not unique. It's the trademark IHOP experience.

Lightbulb.

I interrupted Meredith's thesis time last night to bounce a couple of ideas off of her for the book. Always one to take advantage of opportunities to procrastinate, she jumped away from her computer, stole mine from me and opened the "Stickies" app to start making a list. I've never met anyone who enjoys lists more. Typing faster than I could talk, she rattled off more suggestions, asked me questions at a rapid-fire rate, and yelled out possible networking avenues to explore. Dropping names, venues, outlets, I could barely keep up with her enthusiasm and pace. Then suddenly, in one dramatic pause, she took a deep breath, pulled away from the computer, and spoke in a voice that was about three octaves lower than normal as she simply said, "Ask Martha."  

It's become a standing joke that our friend Martha knows everyone in the world but to see a literal A-ha! moment as it relates to MG was just about the funniest thing ever. 

Book Update: The Elusive Audience.

When I last posted about editor responses, the main concern was that no one knew me.  It was a good point. Here's the most recent feedback from different publishers: 

Hi, yes I sent it to a reader who liked it, but we’re cutting back titles right now, so best not to wait on us. I need to see how eBooks, Borders, and the downward spiral of the book industry goes....Sorry!
j

I seem to have lost a few a emails, so I'm not sure if I've already responded to this proposal. If so, sorry to repeat myself. It's impossible to not admire and laugh with Jessica Martin but I'm not convinced we could reach a large enough audience for her memoir. It's so damn hard out there -- both for job seekers and publishers! 

Thanks for letting me consider this one and I'll hope you'll send me another project very soon.

Best,
Amy

Sorry for the delay.  I did take a look and enjoyed the read.  She’s very funny, and her subject is certainly one that lots of people can relate to.  I got some other reads and we talked about it.  But in the end, although we all liked the material, we decided we didn’t love it enough to take a chance on a first-time memoirist like this who doesn’t have the kind of platform that could help us find an audience.  We would have to really believe that this would get great buzz and reviews on its own merits, and we just didn’t quite have that confidence or vision about this project.
 
Mark

Right. Well, after hearing such a similar message so many times, clearly something had to change. I've decided to go in a different direction with the book and I'll let you know what that is when I figure it out. The next few weeks are going to be crazy busy with brainstorms so all suggestions welcome!  Perhaps self-publishing is an option, perhaps a cross-country book tour/bike tour to read at random bookstores around America, perhaps a viral video involving my book and the patty-cake cats. I'm not sure. But I'm excited to be moving in a direction where people can start reading my book. I'm extremely fortunate to have some incredibly supportive people in my life, and I think once a copy of the book exists, an audience will follow. 

This message brought to you by Naïveté.

Naïveté: Helping me think positive since 1981.

Woops.

Going to a Brazilian barbershop in an effort to save some money on my haircut was probably not one of my better ideas.

Massage Received.

For Christmas Meredith gave me a gift certificate for an hour long full body massage. She's asked me every week since if I'd like her to call and schedule it. 

-This week?

-No, I'm going to save it until I really need it.

-This week?

-No, maybe next week.

-This week?

-No, I had Indian Buffet on Tuesday and I don't really want anyone pressing on me.

So when I saw that I had a rare Saturday off last weekend, she didn't even think to ask. 

"I booked our massages. You're going."

You know the way you feel when your bath is filling up? That's how I felt for a week. I was calmly ecstatic for 60-minutes of total relaxation. Clear head, loosened shoulders, inner tranquility, not a worry in the world for one whole hour.

Right. 

People, let's be honest. I'm a bit of a mess. When I begin to approach moments of inner tranquility, I start to panic that I left my iron plugged in. When I clear my head I focus on my heart beats and swear that I can hear a murmur. And when I relax any part of my body, I walk into things. Luckily, I would be laying down for the massage so there wasn't any danger there but I definitely pictured myself rolling off the table. 

Mer booked a couples massage, which you would think would be incredibly romantic, but I quickly ruined that by begging her to wake me up if I started to drift off and talk in my sleep. 

Before entering the spa, I kept asking, "You promise? You promise? You promise?"

Waiting in the lobby we noticed a "Getting to Know Your Masseuse" book. It was basically a general questionnaire that the different massage therapists filled out. 

Meredith read all about my massage therapist for me like she was reading my horoscope.

Mer: Her healing philosophy is to work from the inside out.

Me: That sounds incredibly painful.

Mer: And her favorite massage modality is chair massage.

Me: What?! Chair massage?! Doesn't the chair do all the work in a chair massage? 

We were called in and I felt the corners of my mouth turn up the way they do when I know I'm about to start laughing inappropriately. I don't know why, but I had the biggest urge to burst out laughing. Maybe it was because of the soft soothing tone of voice everyone was using, or the music, or the fact that I'm seven years old. 

They led us to our room and each of them started talking to us individually. When they left so we could change Mer asked, "What did yours say to you?"

For as bright as she is, my girlfriend is extremely gullible, so I said, "Well, we talked a little bit about her 'from the inside out' healing philosophy and I just asked that she not put her hands inside my mouth or my butt."

"You did NOT say that."

"Mm hmm. I did. And then she told me to take off my underwear and get under the blanket."

"You're supposed to leave your underwear on! She did not--"

And then it registered.

They knocked on the door and our hour-long massage began. It seriously was awesome. My massage therapist had a little bit of a sniffle though so I concentrated on that for about 7 minutes. When I told Meredith about it afterwards she said, "Yeah I saw her go across the room to blow her nose." The only thing is, I never actually felt a stop to my massage. So of course I started to think, "Then who the hell was massaging me while she was on the other side of the room?"

I felt totally relaxed and it was really nice to be pampered. I'm also happy to report that I didn't fall off the table. Thanks again, Mer!