Sunday Sighs...The West Wing, Josh & Donna

Every time I watch an episode of The West Wing, I think I find my favorite line from the whole show.  But, the romance reader/writer/lover knows that there's only one answer to this question.

It's in the second season, during the episode titled "17 People." This is a fantastic episode--one that shows the incredible talent of Richard Schiff (who plays the curmudgeonly, patriotic Toby Ziegler)--in which, among other things: Toby is made the 17th Person to discover that President Bartlet has MS; Ainsley Hayes (my favorite Republican on television) reveals that she is a Smithie; and Sam & Ainsley have a fantastic argument about the need (or lack thereof) for the Equal Rights Amendment.

But the very best moment in the whole show is when Donna and Josh peel off from the rest of the group, and she confesses that she came to work for the White House not (as he's always believed) when her boyfriend dumped her, but when she dumped him--because the tool stopped to have a drink with friends on the way to pick her up from the hospital after she had been in a car accident:

Josh gets superior (as he does), and says:
"I'm just saying that if you were in an accident, I wouldn't stop for a beer."
Donna replies:
"If you were in an accident I wouldn't stop for red lights."

ok.  le sigh.

But if that weren't enough, here's the kicker. The audience knows in that moment (if they didn't already) that Josh and Donna are destined to be.  But the stellar writing staff of the show doesn't give in to what I am certain was an overwhelming desire to just-get-them-together-already-and-have-them-make-out. They go another five seasons before we get the smooch we want here in season two.

And OMG it's worth it.

And that is just one of the many reasons why I think The West Wing is the greatest thing that has ever been on television.

Sunday Awesome: Gail the Goldfish!

I just discovered this awesome easter egg in The West Wing...then discovered that someone awesome has created an entire website as an homage to Gail the Goldfish!

Gail first appeared on The West Wing early on in Season 1...Since that episode, Gail has become more than a prop on a set, she’s become the focus of private jokes between the West Wing production team and eagle eyed fans of the show. In most episodes her bowl contains some object that alludes to the plot, and this web page catalogues as many of these as possible.

For the record, I noticed Gail's special decor in Six Meetings Before Lunch, which is about panda bears and the national zoo. Gail gets two in her bowl!

I am now through being a West Wing nerd.
For today.

Send a letter today...by post.

Via the amazing Ze Frank, here's something that will put a smile on your face. Two artists handwrote 467 letters and postcards to the residents of a tiny village in Ireland. They're awesome.

I guarantee this story will a) reaffirm your faith in humanity and 2) make you want to send a letter.

On my turntable...

Ok, I lie. I don't have a turntable. Eric does, but I am not allowed to use it. Ok, that's a lie, too. I'm sure that if I wanted to play a record he would allow me access to the little black square that sits in his office...assuming it's not a Barenaked Ladies record. That's where he draws the line.

But admit, you liked the idea that I had a turntable. And then you liked the idea that Eric holds sway over the use of vinyl in my house.

I digress. This is a post about the music that I am in love with today. I know that wasn't very clear. I hope it is now, though.

I'm totally obsessed with Ani DiFranco's Red Letter Year these days. I love it. Love it. LOVE IT. Now, as I've mentioned before, I'm a huge Ani fan. For a number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I can map much of my adult life (including my relationship with Eric) to Ani concerts: the first time Eric came to visit me in NYC, we saw her play acoustic at Carnegie Hall; the day I moved into my first NYC apt without a roommate, Eric and I lay on my bed and listened to Reveling/Reckoning while the summer breeze blew the curtains over our heads; Little Plastic Castle is the second song on the mix cd Eric made in honor of our wedding; and the day I sold my first adult romance to Avon, November 21st 2008, we saw Ani play at Town Hall.

One might say that if my life were a Paul Thomas Anderson film, she would be my Aimee Mann.

Red Letter Year is one of her more recent albums...and when you listen to it, you can't help but notice an new, wonderful, loving, happy Ani. And perhaps it's because she played so many of these beautiful, lyric, happy songs at the Town Hall concert on a day when I was so very very happy myself that I think this album (of all of them) speaks to me the most.

You can listen to it for free over at Ani's website. And if you only listen to one song on it...listen to Landing Gear. or The Atom. or Present/Infant. *sigh* you see my problem?

Today, in "Things That Are Awesome."

Tweenbots!

Creator Kacie Kinzer writes:

In New York, we are very occupied with getting from one place to another. I wondered: could a human-like object traverse sidewalks and streets along with us, and in so doing, create a narrative about our relationship to space and our willingness to interact with what we find in it? More importantly, how could our actions be seen within a larger context of human connection that emerges from the complexity of the city itself? To answer these questions, I built robots.

Never once was a Tweenbot lost or damaged. Often, people would ignore the instructions to aim the Tweenbot in the “right” direction, if that direction meant sending the robot into a perilous situation. One man turned the robot back in the direction from which it had just come, saying out loud to the Tweenbot, "You can’t go that way, it’s toward the road.”

First, I love TweenBot. Second, how awesome is it that people stopped to help him? It just reminds me that, at our core...people are awesome!

And...Third, he did get there. In 42 minutes. With the help of 29 people.

Word, humanity.

5 things that are helping me stay focused.

those of you who follow me on twitter and facebook know that i'm in radio silence for the weekend because i'm trying to finish the book by sunday night. this is how it works when i get so close to the end of a book that i can smell it. i hibernate. i go underground and don't look up or come out until it is done. i try to ensure that this happens on a weekend, so i can take friday off from my day job and really power through. this is where i'm at right now. and it hurts. some writers say that the last three chapters of a book feel exhilarating...like all they can imagine doing is running a marathon afterwards. not so with me. the last three chapters of my books feel like what i imagine the last three miles of the new york city marathon feel like. ie...you're doing it because dammit you won't get this far and not finish, but you question your motives, your sanity, and your will to live the entire time. welcome to the end of a book, sarah maclean style.

so...here are the five things that keep me focused during this time:

1. Cranberry Juice. I don't know why, but I go through gallons of the stuff when I'm down to the wire.
2. Beethoven. Specifically, Piano Sonata 23, aka the Appassionata.
3. Baxter. Because warm, fuzzy dogs who love you even when you're gross and cranky are possibly the best thing in the world.
4. My bookshelves. They are full of published books. Most of them were finished successfully.
5. My friends, because they don't call me. And because they won't be mad when I finally call them. Because they will know precisely where I have been.

and...this wouldn't be an honest post if I didn't list the five things I'm depriving myself of because they are too distracting and awesome.

1. The West Wing. Because Aaron Sorkin wrote that show specifically to keep this book from ever being written. He's prescient. Its a little-known fact.
2. Mike Doughty. Because while I usually love listening to him and he did, after all, write Alex's theme song, his music is not always Regency appropriate.
3. Facebook. I should think that would be self-explanatory.
4 Lisa Kleypas and Julia Quinn novels. Because I could read them over and over and I'm just a severe enough procrastinator to do just that.
5. My bed. Because right now, I could seriously take a nap.

and, finally...here are the five things i will do to celebrate the end of my book.

1. do a little dance in my living room.
2. wear my new, custom made, yellow chucks. more on that later. but i'm too superstitious to wear them yet.
3. buy myself a bonnie cashin bag.
4. watch the entire first and second season of The Tudors.
5. play the new Quantum of Solace video game that has been in its shrink wrap SINCE CHRISTMAS because i am a goddess at resisting temptation.

but in order to do those things, i gotta leave you.
peace out, internet.

Let the Wild Rumpus START!!!!

I am totes wearing my wolf suit. :)

Top 10 Sigh-Inducing Moments...

In honor of the day, I give you my top ten list of sigh-inducing romantic moments from literature and film.

10. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." --Johnny, Dirty Dancing

9. "Aaaaaassss Yoooouuuuuu Wiiiiiiiissssshhhhh!" --Wesley, The Princess Bride

8. "Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die." --Ronny, Moonstruck

7. *sigh*



6. From Breakfast at Tiffany's:

Paul: "I love you."
Holly: "So what."
Paul: "So what?! So plenty! I love you! You belong to me!"

5. Have you ever loved a man, then lost him, then learned he lives on Fiji with a new lover? Is Fiji still Fiji? Coconuts and palm trees? --Tomcat in Love by Tim O'Brien

4. "I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." --Harry, When Harry Met Sally

3. Meet Lloyd Dobler:



2. From The Odyssey:

Then with a burst of tears she ran straight toward him, and
flung her arms about the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, and spoke:
“Lo, thou dost convince my heart, unbending as it is.”
And in his heart aroused yet more the desire for lamentation;
and he wept, holding in his arms his dear and true-hearted wife.

1. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." -Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride & Prejudice

Ok...so what have I missed???

On inspiration...part II

As I mentioned yesterday, I'm feeling particularly uninspired this week...partially because of crazed busy-ness (and business) at my day job, partially because I was a terrible procrastinator over the last few weeks, and partially because it's January and isn't everyone just a little bit uninspired in January?

Anyway...I have to snap out of it...and I figured I'd take a moment to tell you about my relationship with Strauss. Yes...that Strauss. Johann Strauss, Jr. The king of the Waltz, composer of dance music--the Madonna of his time. Yes...he looks like a madman, all woofy haired and pork chop sideburns, but he created some of the most incredible dance music in history.

Don't believe me? Try listening to Voices of Spring and you tell me if you aren't struck by a desire to put on a gorgeous dress (or a long-tailed tuxedo) and whirl across a ballroom, arms around some stunning partner. When you write romance, that kind of desire is EXACTLY what you need to get lost in your story...and it is Strauss, and only Strauss, who can put me in that zone. So, I write regency and he wasn't born until 1825...what are a few decades between friends?

I write exclusively to Strauss...hours and hours of his waltzes on endless repeat still haven't gotten old...and he's never let me down. When I'm not able to focus on the words or on the story or on the characters, it's almost always because I don't have my headphones on. And so...while the first strains of the Blue Danube Waltz begin as I write this sentence, I realize I have to go. I have writing to do.

But before I do...I have to ask. What music inspires your writing? And why?

One of those days...

One of those weeks, more like it. I've been feeling totally uninspired, which leads to unmotivated, insecure and blech.

But then I saw this. And it helped.


I like Ze Frank a lot. I think he's cool. And I don't know anyone who doesn't appreciate his moves.

the one that got away

so, as i've mentioned, i'm working on a new project, a romance that revolves around catching the uncatchable.  in this particular case, i was inspired by the concept of the one that got away. 

we've all got one of these--the boy in our college chem lab with the great smile who seemed the perfect catch, but whom we could never quite muster the courage to speak to; the girl in high school we dreamed of but who never quite noticed us; the boyfriend who dumped us because he just couldn't commit; the girl who we dumped because we were just plain dumb.  The ones that got away. The ones that might have been. 

Now, that's not to say that we didn't turn out just fine--in many cases, we crawled into the tall grass, licked our wounds and then, several days and far too many pints of coconut sorbet later, we rose again to meet the world--and the next one.  Who maybe, just maybe, turned out to be The One...not just the one that got away.

But the project I'm working on explores the age old question: "What if the one that got away was The One?"  And, more than that, "What if we got another chance?"  

My heroine, Callie, is in this very dilemma.  She's been in love with that proverbial guy from chem lab for her entire life (if they had chem labs in regency england--or if women went to college in regency england--this metaphor would be perfect, but just go with it).  And now, it's her 10 year college reunion, and she's got her chance.  He's still single.  She's still single.  But how does she get him to notice her now that she's a decade older and a decade shyer--and he's a decade darker?  Here's her chance to finally catch the one that got away...but how?  Especially when he's so very handsome and she's so very...well...plain. 

And that's the premise of the love story I'm working on. 

I should say that I actually caught the one that got away, so this is a premise that's rather near and dear to my heart.  But Callie's story is far more exciting than my own.  At least, it's shaping up to be.  

Now it's your turn...do you have a one that got away story?  willing to share? 

my celluloid saint

there are rare moments when i believe that god is visible in film...it's uncommon--sure there are films that entertain me...ones that engage me...ones that make me chuckle...and I don't often ask much of the movies I watch. I'm thrilled with the mindless joy of a silly teeny-bopper movie or romantic comedy...in the past few days there have been three that, while not the best in the world, have been just what I was looking for, one after the next after the next...i'm embarassed to admit.

but there is one director who constantly keeps me in awe...who seems to consistently entertain, intrigue, and engage me....who makes me envy his skill to the point of greenness...and who provides me with immeasurable quantities of those rare moments when i forget to breathe because the film is so incredible. he occupies that space just inside the front hall of household name-dom...and he deserves a place at the dining room table as far as I'm concerned.

paul thomas anderson, catapulted to the heights of my consciousness when I saw the film that has become my personal jesus--magnolia. Magnolia is a complicated story that leaves the viewer constantly in awe of the art and craft that went into both writing it and making it. It is a constant reminder of the power of our personal demons, and the reality that life, however strange and inconsistant, will go on. It is the film that changed my life. if you haven't seen it, you should. (not to mention the fantastic soundtrack from Aimee Mann). Summed up in one line, Magnolia: 

There are stories of coincidence and chance, of intersections and strange things told, and which is which and who only knows?

But the genius of anderson is in all of his films--from Hard Eight, a fantastic first film that is, on the surface, about gambling, and at its core about the realities of life; to Boogie Nights, which proves that no world is perfect; to Punch Drunk Love, which leaves us all with the valuable lesson that, no matter how we have limited ourselves in the past...the future can always exist with hope.

The joy of watching any Paul Thomas Anderson film, however, is his ability to demand and draw out the most amazing performances from any actor--Magnolia proves this 100 fold with remarkable performances by Philip Seymor Hoffman, William H. Macy, Julianne Moore, Jason Robards (in his final film) and others...but the cake topper here is the completely uncharacteristic performance from Tom Cruise--as insane as Cruise has proved himself to be recently...he has never been more talented and less egocentric in his acting than he was here, under Anderson's tutelage.

If he could do it for Cruise, is it any wonder that Marky Mark turned Mark Wahlberg under the same mastery? That Adam Sandler proved his own acting skill with Anderson behind the camera in Punch Drunk Love? It shouldn't be...but it is always amazing to see the performances that PTA pulls from the actors he works with. But don't take my word for it...check out this article from Esquire...and believe what you read.In all of his films, however, he has demonstrated a natural filmmaking flair, a bent for risk taking, and a predilection for taking actors where they might otherwise never get to go. But what further distinguishes him is a skill much rarer among modern young filmmakers—his ability as a dramatist.

PTA has made a name for himself as an ensemble director--a young Robert Altman (and, actually, the director Altman selected to complete his last film on the event of his death prior to the end of production). But, this year, he stretched his skill, his limits and showed himself the greatest director of his generation--blowing Quentin Tarantino and others who were vying for the title clear back to film school with There Will Be Blood. Based on the Upton Sinclair novel Oil! and starring Daniel Day Lewis--a man who I think is one of the best actors in film, ever--There Will Be Blood is the Citizen Kane of the 21st Century...a movie that is so darkly allegorical and telling and just...true...that I can't imagine our children and our children's children looking back at it as proof that film, as art, was alive and well during our time.

I leave you with the quote from Magnolia that I think speaks volumes about what art means...and how life imitates it so very well.  

And we generally say, "Well, if that was in a movie, I wouldn't believe it." Someone's so-and-so met someone else's so-and-so and so on. And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that strange things happen all the time. And so it goes, and so it goes. And the book says, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."

a picture worth 1000 years

the world is changed.  the country is different.  history has been made.  and my god. does it feel good. i'm proud of us, america. after years of oppression and hatred and disenfranchisement and inequality...we've done it.  we've opened the floodgates and started down a long, strange road towards the future.  

and to those who say we can't do it...i say...yes we can. 

a poet worth the words...

Thinking hard about you
I got on the bus
and paid
30 cents car fare
and asked the driver for two transfers
before discovering
that
I was alone.

Four years ago, for my birthday, a dear friend gave me a copy of Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, The Pill versus The Springhill Mine Disaster, and In Watermelon Sugar and changed my life.

I'd never heard of Brautigan--a wild-haired, quixotic counterculture beat poet and writer who, despite being remarkably prolific, cloistered himself salinger-style and refused to give interviews or deliver lectures during the eight years when he produced the bulk of his poetry.

The act of dying
is like hitch-hiking
into a strange town
late at night
where it is cold
and raining,
and you are alone
again.

In the months since I became aware of him, I have passed Brautigan's work to friends, family, and strangers--wishing every time that I could be as succinctly elegant and as simply eloquent as this man who took his own life so tragically early, the victim of personal demons and critical obscurity. If only there had been poetry like this in my high school English class--I would have found myself appreciating the art form so much more.

Does anything represent the twin despair and hope of unrequited love more than Brautigan's, Please?

Do you think of me
as often
as I think
of you?

Since discovering Brautigan, I have discovered so many cool things about him...like this: in 1968, he published a collection of poems called Please Plant This Book: eight seed packets, each containing seeds, with poems printed on the sides. What I wouldn't give to see an original edition of the collection--alas, I have a feeling I'll just have to console myself with http://www.pleaseplantthisbook.com/, a flash version of the original--typos and all (seeds not included).

Anyone with a favorite poet certainly has a favorite poem...and I would be remiss in leaving you without transcribing mine...the one I have turned to countless times...the one that remains doggeared in that life-changing gift:

Karma Repair Kit, Items 1-4

1. Get enough food to eat,
and eat it.
2. Find a place to sleep where it is quiet,
and sleep there.
3. Reduce intellectual and emotional noise until you
arrive at the silence of yourself,
and listen to it.
4.

word.

Other musings you might enjoy: 

A Genius Speaks of Love

Ani Difranco is My Muse

On Austenesque Sentences

ceasing and desisting

the red badge of honor that so many web-geeks wear with pride is a fascinating item--a sword weilded with heavy-handed fervor by the largest of companies to squash competition, ostensibly. Unfortunately, all too often, the cease and desist underscores the bullies on the playground of life--attacking the meek without thought or remorse.

be warned, big bullies. the meek...they shall inherit the earth...i've heard, at least.

Enter the story of The Chocolate Farm, a home-grown chocolatier in Denver started in 1998 by then 11-year-old Elise MacMillan and her 13-year-old sage of a brother, Evan. Elise had learned to make chocolate from her grandmother when she was 3 and, a born overachiever, she started a chocolate stand at a local farmers' market when she was 10. The stand became a full-blown business--website (designed by Evan) and all--and the siblings now employ 20-40 people, depending on the season. They plan to turn their business over to professional managers in the fall, when Elise goes to college.

So fine...maybe we all hate these kids just a little bit for their drive and determination, but all-in-all, a pretty cool story, right?

Not according to the people over at Russell Stover. According to the Denver Post,

The corporate confectionery, which owns Whitman's Candies, wants the Macmillans to stop using the word "sampler." On their website, www.thechocolatefarm.com, the siblings sell a "Chocolate Farm Sampler," which includes three-quarters of a pound of candy and a recipe book.

Russell Stover advertising executive John O'Hara gave the Chocolate Farm an ultimatum in a Thursday e-mail:

"The Sampler mark has been used by Whitman's since 1912 and has been registered with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office since 1922. ... Please ... remove the Sampler mark from any and all material that you may be using; otherwise, Whitman's will have no other choice but to pursue legal remedies."

Uh...Sampler...as in, A representative collection or selection: a sampler of American short-story writers. A variety; an assortment. As in...sample our chocolates and worship at the feet of child entrepreneurship.

The story is enough to make us cry out--don't back down alliterative child duo! Elise and Evan 4-ever!

Never fear. They benefit from their youth--Elise's moxie is charming. "It's a generic term. Anybody ought to be able to use it. Nobody has confused our Chocolate Farm Sampler with a Whitman's Sampler." Evan's self-deprecating flattery is endearing. "We feel flattered that they would consider us a threat," Evan said. "It just seems like the most ridiculous thing in the world to go after a couple of kids with a small chocolate business."

Lay on...Elise and Evan! Exeunt, fighting!

Other Musings You Might Enjoy:

The Magic Powers of Cupcakes