“Chick lit” is a term that started out as a catch-all phrase used to describe lighthearted, sort of “fluff”, dare I say even mindless, books about women, for women. While it originated as a clever term it quickly became a derogatory one, used with a sniff as if one needed to plug ones nose when referring to it. The literary crowd, women in particular, loved to take powerful swipes at writers of chick lit, contending that such writers aren’t actually writers at all, but rather purveyors of schlock meant to dumb down women even more (to which I would reply, “No, that’s any book by Snooki.”)

The first chick lit novel I stumbled upon years ago I think was Bridget Jones’ Diary, which was an original and hilarious take on the life of a going-nowhere-fast twenty-something in London. Much of what drove the popularity of Bridget Jones’ Diary was the voice of the author. And voice, frankly, is what made the genre work. And lack thereof contributed strongly in its rapid demise.

That and an industry bent on greedily capitalizing on the popularity by publishing gobs and gobs of inferior books pawned off as chick lit but really just poorly-written, boringly-told poseurs. These books all exploited the original concept, and turned it into generic drivel: single-girl-in-the-city-with-crap-job-loads-of-credit-card-debt-cad-of-a-boyfriend-who-invariably-dumps-and-humiliates-her-and-sage-gay-male-best-friend-who-dope-slaps-her-into-reality-and-enables-her-to-recognize-the-real-white-knight-on-the-horse-when-he-gallops-up-to-her-doorstep-and-saves-her.

Back when chick lit first surfaced, you couldn’t get much of it here in the States. I used to order books from Amazon.co.uk, which got pretty costly when transatlantic shipping was added into the mix. Not to mention the lengthy delivery times too forever. So I was pretty happy at first when American publishing houses started putting out chick lit, starting with the now-ubiquitous Jen Weiner, one of maybe three authors allowed by New York publishing houses to actually still publish books that could be accused of donning the mantle of chick lit; every other author who wrote anything that smacked even narrowly of chick lit fell victim to the fact that the industry glutted the market with crap, and so readers turned en masse away from the genre. And the industry response naturally was that “oh, then only three authors can write and sell these books!” Rather than realizing that had they screwed things up royally and that perhaps they could fix it by offering up actual books of substance within the genre. Instead, chick lit became Voldemort: “she who shall not be named” within the industry.

Now I know my attitude about this genre is likely to be viewed as subversive by industry insiders. And likely so by the three authors anointed as the only industry-approved standard bearers allowed to publish books with strong first person voices, a hallmark of chick lit back in the day. It was frustrating to a generation of authors that the drawbridge leading to the castle had been shut tight, the moat secured with guards (i.e. editors) prepared to dump vats of boiling oil on interlopers who would dare attempt to publish a book that might be accused of being a — horror of horrors! — chick lit novel. Instead many authors I knew eventually stopped writing women’s fiction altogether and instead turned toward young adult fiction, because that market was burgeoning and it seems even if plenty of YA books were lackluster at best (as had been the case with the chick lit mania), for some reason there was a ceaseless demand for more of the genre, regardless. Ah, I’ve often bemoaned the shoulda coulda woulda in that regard: had I been in touch with my inner teen angst, I, too, could’ve made a killing writing dystopian, vampire-drenched novels targeted at teens in perpetual need of further edginess in their reading material. But alas, I wasn’t.

The funny thing is I have long been drawn to first person narrative, and it had nothing to do with chick lit. My first exposure to first person likely came with JD Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, or maybe it was Gene Shepherds fabulous In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, or maybe it was in a few of James Joyce’s stories in Dubliners. I always find it ironic that the publishing industry shunned first person writing across the board with little exception for women writing books for women about women, but it seemed to have worked well for some of the masters of the 20th century. Go figure. Which brings me to that double standard regarding the chick lit genre. We like to call it the Dick Lit dilemma.

You see, authors like Nick Hornby have written stories about young adult slacker men frozen in their inability to grow as human beings (the male version of the crap-job-lousy-fill-in-the-blank-going-nowhere-fast-life, though usually with a woman at the helm to ultimately kick their butt and set them straight), really the male version of chick lit, and the attitude of the publishing industry toward men writing dick lit has been “bring it on.” While overtly shunning women authors writing pretty much anything shy of literary fiction or genre fiction such as romance, mystery or crime novels. Because, god forbid, the book might be perceived as chick lit, and don’t forget, no one buys chick lit unless written by one of three sanctioned authors. Naturally because they’re the only ones who actually succeeded in publishing chick lit books. But never mind that.

At first women authors initially had to rename whatever it was they were writing and trying to sell to New York houses as “women’s fiction,” but then the industry got sly to that tagline, and then it had to be even more cloaked in disguise. I picture a manuscript wearing a Groucho Marx nose and glasses in a lame attempt to sneak into the party.

Because there was a party there, just no one but three authors were invited to attend and swill the free-flowing expensive champagne. And those authors somehow found their audience again and again with their novels (natch, as they were the only ones whose books made it to the marketplace!). While everyone else had to make a rapid u-turn and start writing other types of books instead (or take a job working at Taco Bell), because the gatekeepers, i.e. the publishing industry, were standing around the moat with those vats of boiling oil. All the while, readers who thought that no one wrote chick lit anymore (but for those three authors) just continued to await any new release by the Chosen Three, buying a book or two a year, tops. And no doubt eventually walking away from chick lit to find authors in other genres because the pickings were so slim in chick lit-slash-women’s fiction-slash-anything written for women that wasn’t literary or didn’t refer to Jane Austen in the title (which is a guaranteed sale to New York). Tail wagging the dog, perhaps? Had the genre not been diluted down to a sewage pit in a Mumbai slum by the industry, mayhaps these readers could have had a much deeper selection of women’s fiction novels from which to draw for their chosen reading material.

But then one day Amazon came along, and changed all that. Because they made possible the impossible: they enabled authors to go directly to their readers. And provide books that readers have been interested in finding. But couldn’t. And guess what? To borrow from Sally Field’s somewhat embarrassing Academy Award acceptance speech of about a hundred years ago…authors learned “They like us! They really like us!” Turns out they thought we’d all stopped writing or something, when nothing could have been further from the truth. The beauty of the digital era in reading and the internet in general is the populist revolution has occurred: all of us have learned that the middle man, while sometimes providing a useful service, has often only served as a detriment.

Sure, now readers have to be perhaps even more vigilant because there is a lot more schlock available for sale in the book world than ever before. Every Tom, Dick and Harry (or should that be Tammy, Dana and Sally?) thinks they should publish a novel, and frankly, maybe some of them ought not quit their day jobs. But the great thing is a) the books are cheaper, and so maybe you lose out $2.99 on a lousy book, versus in the Gilded Age of publishing’s chick lit (which lasted for all of 6 months), you were out $10-$15 on a lousy book; b) you can read a sample for free to be sure you want to shell out the money, and 3) hey, back then most of what you bought that actually had filtered through those gatekeepers was ghastly bad anyhow — we could only go up from there!

So the moral to the story is this: yay. Writers have some great choices these days. And readers have some great choices, too. And all those books that were collecting dust in writers laptops are finally finding their audience, which is all good for everyone!

Thanks for indulging me in my vent. It’s always fun to moan and complain a bit. More fun to explain to you why you haven’t been able to find these books. And now you can! I hope you can check out some of the authors on this blog hop and maybe find a new favorite.

Here’s how the blog hop will work . . .

• Each of the 34 participating authors has written a special Chick Lit-centric piece and these posts will go live on Monday, May 14th.  At each blog hop stop, you will have the opportunity to enter to win a FREE Chick Lit e-book from that particular blog’s owner/author. All you have to do is leave a comment on the blog post, including your name and e-mail address, and you’re automatically entered to win.  If you visit each blog hop stop, that means you have the chance to win 34 different e-books!
• The blog hop will start at Natalie Aaron & Marla Schwartz and end at Jen Tucker.  You will find a list of all the stops on the blog hop at each auther’s blog.  Authors’ blogs will be listed in alphabetical order according to last name.
• In each of the author’s blog posts, there will be a “secret word.”  This word will be italicized, so it will be easy to find.  All you have to do is make note of this secret word at each blog hop stop.  Collect all 34 secret words and submit your list to CLABlogHop@aol.com before midnight on Sunday, May 20th and you will be entered into the Grand Prize Drawing!  The winner of this drawing will receive a$150 Sephora gift card!  $150 to spend on make-up, fragrance, bath and body goodies, skin care, and hair products!  How fun is that?  This gift card can be redeemed online, or at any Sephora store in the US.
• Winners of each of the participating author’s e-books, as well as the Grand Prize winner of the $150 Sephora gift card will be announced on Monday, May 21st.
• Contests are open to citizens of the United States only.We hope you’ll join us for this exciting event!  Don’t forget to tell all of your Chick Lit-loving friends!  The more, the merrier!
• To be eligible to win a copy of Slim to None on my blog, please be sure to leave a comment on my blog, and I will choose from those entrants
• here’s the link to the authors:

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

(ps: apologies for my book covers being cut off. My blog has just upgraded and with it totally messed with how to upload images and I have no idea how to fix it so it cuts off my covers…Good thing I’m a writer and not a computer programmer…)

I’ll be participating in the Chick Lit Blog Hop May 14-20 in honor of International Chick Lit Month, joining more than 30 other authors to offer up free e-books and a Sephora gift card to a grand prize winner, so keep checking back here for more details!

Tell us a little about The Lifeguard.

The Lifeguard is my new young adult novel about 16-year-old Sirena Shane who is sent off to spend the summer at the Rhode Island shore with her Aunt Ellie, because her parents, at home in Texas, are going through a difficult divorce.

It’s a summer that will transform her life – forever.

She moves into a beach house filled with ghosts, falls hard for a mysterious lifeguard with extraordinary looks and mysterious healing powers, and meets an 80-year old Brazilian artist and shaman who bequeaths her an unusual gift.

Tell us a little bit about your how your writing career evolved.

My first book, The New York Book of Beauty, was an extension of my work as a beauty columnist for The New York Times Sunday Magazine. It was a guidebook to the best beauty resources of New York City. “Research” involved going to different salons for manicures, pedicures, haircuts, massage, etc. In other words, equal parts work and fun.

But my entree into children’s book began with a tantrum — my younger daughter’s, not mine. We were on our way home from a play date and because she was hungry and tired, she had a total meltdown. That led to my first picture book, The Chocolate-Covered-Cookie Tantrum, written as therapy.

My first young adult novel, FAT CAMP, grew out of an article I wrote on weight loss camps for The New York Times Sunday Magazine. I was hooked on writing YA after that

How many books have you written?

Thirteen.

How much of yourself and your own life do you put into your stories?

Even though my stories aren’t based directly on my own life experiences, I think you can’t help but put your own hopes, dreams, fantasies, and fears into the stories that you write.

In The Lifeguard, you create a portrait of a lifeguard with extraordinary looks, not to mention magical healing powers. Never mind the powers, did you base him on someone that you know – or knew?

Actually there’s a top male fashion model who has an extraordinary face, and I kept thinking of him when I created the character of Pilot.

Any advice for struggling writers?

Don’t give up. Keep reading. Keep revising. And if something isn’t working, put it away for a while and revisit it after enough time has gone by so that you can see it with a fresh eye.

What are you working on now?

A new young adult novel as well as some picture books.

How can readers find out more about your books?

On my website:

www.deborahblumenthal.com

LOVE FINDS YOU IN NEW ORLEANS by Christa Allan

Set to release in February of 2012 and available now for pre-order, this 1840s historical relates the story of a woman whose grandparents must consider whether to stop keeping secrets and reveal the truth they’ve known—a truth that will make the difference between a life of obligation and a life of choice.Unlocking the past could open the door to a new future, but is the present worth the cost? Introduced in the novel is the custom of plaçage, known as “left-handed marriages” among those forbidden legally to be together.

Who would like this book? Readers of historical fiction and Southern fiction.

For more information visit http://christaallan.com/

SAFE HARBOR by Judith Arnold

Childhood pals Kip and Shelley spent their summers on Block Island, swimming, biking, discovering the world together. Then real life intruded, bringing tragedy and heartache. Years later, they both wind up back on Block Island. Can the island’s rugged beauty and their loving friendship heal their wounds? An award-winning novel when it was first released, SAFE HARBOR is available to as a reissued e-book to a new generation of readers.

Who would like this book? SAFE HARBOR is the perfect book for lovers of romance fiction.

For more information visit www.juditharnold.com

LITTLE WOMEN AND ME by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

A contemporary teen finds herself literally sucked into the Louisa May Alcott novel Little Women and discovers she must change a major plot point in order to get back out again. “…a consistently entertaining read that delivers a genuinely original heroine and frequently hilarious satire.” ~ Kirkus Reviews

Who would like this book? LITTLE WOMEN AND ME will appeal to adult fans of Little Women and girls ages 12 and up.

For more information visit http://laurenbaratzlogsted.com/

THE BLUE HOUSE DOG by Deborah Blumenthal

Love heals the heart is the message of this heartwarming picture book about a boy who saves a homeless dog and vice versa. Cody had his own dog once, but his painful loss is buried deeper than the feeding dish he hides away in his closet. All that changes when he comes upon a four-footed friend needier than he is — a sad, lost dog from a mysterious blue house and both learn to trust and love again.

Based on a true story.

Who would like this book? Dog lovers of all ages.

For more information visit http://deborahblumenthal.com

MOTHERS AND OTHER LIARS by Amy Bourret

How far will a mother go to save her child? Ten years ago, Ruby Leander was a drifting nineteen-year-old who made a split-second decision at an Oklahoma rest stop. Fast forward nine years: Ruby and her daughter Lark live in New Mexico. Lark is a precocious, animal loving imp, and Ruby has built a family for them with a wonderful community of friends and her boyfriend of three years. Life is good. Until the day Ruby reads a magazine article about parents searching for an infant kidnapped by car-jackers. Then Ruby faces a choice no mother should have to make. A choice that will change both her and Lark’s lives forever.

Who would like this book? Anyone, especially book clubs who like a good moral debate, will like this smart, haunting, and gorgeously written debut novel that propels a whip-smart plot that will keep you thinking.

For more information visit www.amybourret.com

A SUMMER IN EUROPE by Marilyn Brant

It’s not where you go, it’s what you take back with you… On her 30th birthday, Gwendolyn Reese receives an unexpected present from her widowed Aunt Bea: a grand European tour in the company of Bea’s Sudoku-and-Mahjongg Club. Gwen initially approaches her first trip abroad as if it’s the homework she assigns her students, diligently checking monuments off her must-see list. But amid the gorgeous bougainvillea of southern Italy, something changes. She begins to live in the moment—skipping down stone staircases in Capri, racing through the Louvre and taste-testing pastries, wine and gelato. Reveling in every new experience—especially her attraction to a charismatic British physics professor—Gwen discovers the ancient wonders around her are nothing compared to the renaissance unfolding within…

Who would like this book? Romantics and lovers of travel fiction who might enjoy a grand journey of self awakening amidst the classic architecture and stunning vistas of Europe.

For more information visit http://www.marilynbrant.com

CHILDREN OF THE WATERS by Carleen Brice

Still reeling from divorce, Trish Taylor is in the midst of salvaging the remnants of her life when she uncovers a shocking secret: her sister is alive. After years of drawing on the strength of her ancestors, Billie Cousins is shocked to discover that she was adopted. Though Trish longs to connect with her long-lost sister, Billie’s feelings of betrayal are waters too deep to cross. But when both women are forced to confront their demons, they begin to realize that each may have what the other needs.

Who would like this book? This is a contemporary story between two women who discover they are sisters. Great for fans of smart, moving women’s fiction. Women in interracial relationships or with mixed-race children will especially like it.

For more information visit www.carleenbrice.com

AN APPETITE FOR MURDER by Lucy Burdette

Aspiring food critic Hayley Snow follows the man of her dreams to Key
West, FL. Instead of landing the job of her dreams as a food critic,
she lands in the police blotter, the main suspect in her now-ex’s new
girlfriend’s murder.

Who would like this book? Fans of Diane Mott Davidson’s cozy culinary
mysteries will enjoy this book.

For more information visit http://lucyburdette.com/buy-the-books/

SLIM TO NONE by Jenny Gardiner

Abbie Jennings is Manhattan’s top food critic until her expanding waistline makes staying incognito at restaurants impossible. Her cover blown on Page Six of the New York Post, her editor has no choice but to bench her—and suggest she use the time off to bench-press her way back to anonymity. Abbie’s life has been built around her career, and therefore around celebrating food. Forced to drop the pounds if she wants her primo gig back, Abbie must peel back the layers of her past and confront the fears that have led to her current life.

Who would like this book? SLIM TO NONE is the perfect book for anyone who’s ever gone on a diet (or believes they should).

For more information visit www.jennygardiner.net

MY JANE AUSTEN SUMMER by Cindy Jones

A young woman who has squeezed herself into undersized relationships all her life hopes to realize her dream of living in a novel when she is invited to participate in a Jane Austen literary festival in England. She jumps at the chance to reinvent herself, imagining escape into Austen’s fictional world where bookish women are heroines. There, in the rich, promising world of Mansfield Park, Lily finds people whose longing to live in a novel equals her own. But real-life problems have a way of following you wherever you go and unless Lily can change her ways, she will share the fate of so many of Jane Austen’s characters who repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

Who would like this book? MY JANE AUSTEN SUMMER is a fast-paced, romantic, and humorous book that will appeal to book lovers, especially those who can’t get enough Jane Austen.

For more information visit www.cindysjones.com

ALL THE NUMBERS by Judy Merrill Larsen

An arresting, heartbreaking, and ultimately hopeful first novel. A recently divorced mother of two boys, Ellen Banks is just learning to make her way through the uncharted territory of single parenthood when the unthinkable happens. Determined to seek justice, and to mend the deep wounds in her family, Ellen must first heal herself, finding a way out of a grief that soon turns to defiance. This is an unforgettable journey of power and emotion, poignantly depicting a woman as she reckons with her own vulnerability and finds in the wisdom of motherhood, the redemptive grace to begin again.

Who would like this book? ALL THE NUMBERS is great for discussion so it’s perfect for anyone in a book club or who just wants characters you’ll argue with, worry about, and hope they make the right choices (and yes, I love connecting with book clubs!).

For more information visit http://www.judymerrilllarsen.com/

LITTLE BLACK DRESS by Susan McBride

Two sisters whose lives seemed forever intertwined are torn apart when a magical little black dress gives each one a glimpse of an unavoidable future.

Antonia Ashton has worked hard to build a thriving career and a committed relationship, but she realizes her life has gone off track. Forced to return home to Blue Hills when her mother, Evie, suffers a massive stroke, Toni finds the old Victorian where she grew up as crammed full of secrets as it is with clutter. Now she must put her mother’s house in order—and uncover long-buried truths about Evie and her aunt, Anna, who vanished fifty years earlier on the eve of her wedding. By shedding light on the past, Toni illuminates her own mistakes and learns the most unexpected things about love, magic, and a little black dress with the power to break hearts . . . and mend them.

Who would like this book? The story of the Little Black Dress weaves together bits of history, mystery, magic, and family, so I hope it appeals to readers who love women’s fiction in the vein of Kate Morton and Sarah Addison Allen.

For more information visit http://SusanMcBride.com

THE OTHER LIFE by Ellen Meister

“A resonant story about the importance of mothers, both having one and being one … making for a riveting tale of love and choices.” – BookPage

Quinn Braverman has a perfect life, with a loving husband, an adorable son, and another baby on the way.

Quinn also has an ominous secret: she knows there’s a portal to another life, one in which she made totally different life choices. But she’s never been tempted to switch lives … until a shocking turn of events pushes her to cross over, and she discovers the one person she thought she’d lost forever. Her mother.

But Quinn can’t have both lives. Soon, she must decide which she really wants—the one she has … or the other life.

Who would like this book? Anyone interested in the beautiful, heartbreaking and complicated relationships between mothers and daughters.

For more information visit ellenmeister.com

MOMFRIENDS by Ariella Papa

Momfriends is a story of three vastly different people who meet through motherhood and become friends through womanhood.

Ruth is almost at the end of her rope with her new baby when a knock on her door changes everything. Claudia’s life is all about rules. Everything is going perfectly until a flirtation with colleague makes her throw out her rule book.

And Kirsten is an artist and a dreamer. What she discovers late one night confirms that her life is not everything she dreamed. Momfriends is about how people roll with lives they can’t control. And whether they choose to swim with the current or against it, it’s about the realization that everyone needs someone to throw out a life preserver once in a while.

Who would like this book? Momfriends makes the perfect gift for your best friend, the new mom in the neighborhood or the mom you’d like to invite over. It’s an ebook so it’s even easier to read and multi-task.


For more information visit ariellapapa.com

DEAR NEIGHBOR, DROP DEAD by Saralee Rosenberg

In Mindy’s yoga-obsessed, thirty-is-the-new-wife neighborhood, every day is a battle between Dunkin’ Donuts, her jaws-of-life jeans, and Beth Diamond, the self-absorbed sancti-mommy next door who looks sixteen from the back. So much for sharing the chores, the stores, and the occasional mischief to rival Wisteria Lane.

It’s another day, another dilemma until Beth’s marriage becomes fodder on Facebook. Suddenly the Ivy League blonde needs to be “friended,” and Mindy is the last mom standing. Together they take on hormones and hunger, family feuds and fidelity, and a harrowing journey that spills the truth about an unplanned pregnancy and a seventy-year-old miracle that altered their fates forever.

Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead is a hilarious, stirring romp over fences and defenses that begs the question, what did you do to deserve living next door to a crazy woman? Sometimes it’s worth finding out.

Who would like this book? DEAR NEIGHBOR, DROP DEAD is perfect for anyone who loves to discover friendship in surprising places … while laughing out loud on every page.

For more information visit saraleerosenberg.com

MIMOSAS, MISCHIEF, AND MURDER by Sara Rosett

“Charm, Southern sass, and suspense abound in the sixth delightful cozy mystery.” –FreshFiction.com

Super-organized Ellie thinks she’s prepared for everything when she and her family set off for an extended visit with her southern in- laws in Alabama, but the one thing she hasn’t planned for is cold-blooded murder. When the patriarch of the family passes away under suspicious circumstances, the quirky Avery family closes ranks and Ellie can’t help looking for motives among the mourners.

Publisher’s Weekly called it “winning” and described it this way: “A rumor of hidden money, secret letters from a famous recluse, a fire, a threatening message, and a crazed gunman add to the cozy mischief.”

Who would like this book? Fans of mysteries and southern fiction will enjoy Mimosas, Mischief, and Murder.

For more information visit http://sararosett.com

BEAUTIFUL DISASTER by Laura Spinella

As a college student in Athens, Georgia, Mia Wells meets Flynn, an enigmatic stranger who pushes every boundary she knows. Their relationship is intense, passionate and, for Mia, life-changing, making it all the more painful when he vanishes. After finding the wherewithal to move on with her life and pursue her goals, Mia eventually marries. Twelve years later, Flynn mysteriously resurfaces, gravely injured. Mia is terrified that he will die, awestruck at the prospect of his survival. Flynn’s return ignites a powerful tale, a story that is greater than honor or friendship or the passing of time. More than a romance, this 2011 Penguin release was recently named Best First Book in the NJRWA Golden Leaf contest.

Who would like this book? BEAUTIFUL DISASTER is women’s fiction with a heavy thread of romance, making it the perfect book for readers who like relationship fiction that includes a thought provoking love story.

For more information visit lauraspinella.net

LOVE IN TRANSLATION by Wendy Nelson Tokunaga

After receiving a puzzling phone call and a box full of mysteries, Celeste Duncan, 33, is off to Japan to search for a long, lost relative who could hold the key to the identity of the father she never knew. There she stumbles head first down the rabbit hole into a weird, wonderful world where nothing is quite as it seems.

Not knowing Japanese, Celeste finds a friend in her English-speaking homestay brother, Takuya, and comes to depend on him for help. As they cross the country following a trail after Celeste’s family, she discovers she’s developing “more-than-sisterly” feelings for him. But with a nosy homestay mother scheming to reunite Takuya with his old girlfriend, and her search growing dimmer, will Celeste find what she’s looking for in Japan?

Who would like this book? Love in Translation will appeal to armchair travelers who love a good love story!

For more information visit: http://www.WendyTokunaga.com

Most of the these books are available at your favorite bookstore. To buy online, visit the author’s page for ordering links.

Cranberry Pecan Jell-O Salad by Dani Stone

Ingredients:

1 stick butter or margarine

1 cup flour

1 cup chopped pecans

1 – 8 Oz. package cream cheese

1 cup sugar

1 – 12 oz. Cool Whip

1 – 6 oz. box of cranberry Jell-O

2 cups boiling hot waster

2 16 oz. cans whole cranberry sauce

Directions:

1.    In a 9” by 13” pan, melt 1 stick of butter ormargarine.  Mix in 1 cup of flour and 1 cup of chopped pecans.  Press evenly in pan and bake at 350º for 12-15 minutes.  Cool.2.   Mix cream cheese and 1 cup sugar.  Fold in CoolWhip.  Spread on cooled crust.3.   Dissolve Jell-O in water and mix incranberries.  Refrigerate until thickened.  Pour over cream cheese layer.4.   Refrigerate until firm and ready to serve.

My mother-in-law makes this every Thanksgiving. We serve it on a piece of endive lettuce on its own little plate. The salad is a gorgeous, tasty addition to any table.

Dani Stone is a freelance writer juggling assignments like a circus performer in sparkly red shoes. Currently, she’s contributing web content for MediaRefined.com and writing a charity spotlight series for the life-changing micro-giving site, Lovedrop.us. Dani lives with her husband and two children in the great flat state of Kansas. www.ihearlaughtracks.wordpress.com

(I Googled “man made” images and this is what came up first!)

I remember years back when public bathrooms started being retrofitted for wheelchair accessibility. It was at about the same time that the salesman for the Giant Toilet Paper Roll Company clearly hit the sales jackpot, because it seemed you couldn’t stumble upon a public loo in the U.S. without a gargantuan roll of the stuff. Which from a male-designed standpoint made some sense: buy big, buy cheap, sure. Buy big, replace less often. Okay, I’m with you. But then the plans things went awry: someone (a male? One wonders…) established standards that seem to have been implemented nation-wide about where to position these mambo-rolls within the narrow confines of a bathroom stall. It had some vague connection to wheelchair accessibility, but I can promise you it had nothing to do with how those in a wheelchair would then be able to access the stuff.

I think it was all about avoiding the handle bar that is installed midway up the stall. So this rocket scientist had a choice: position the paper high, above the bar, or install the paper low. For some reason low made imminent sense (is this because they don’t use the stuff, thus don’t “get” the failed functionality test?). Thus, these mega-rolls are forever installed wayyyy downnnnn lowwwww, requiring the user to lean far to the left and back slightly or forward too much to then get her arm bent enough to be able to reach up into the roll canister to access the stubborn paper that is stuck therein. Once there, you must hard, but argh, you can’t, because some brainiac (perhaps an infrequent user of the product, like, say, a man!) decided it was going to be even cheaper (yay!) to make the paper one-ply (sometimes I think they’ve gotten it down to near zero-ply), so that if you try to pull it–and bear with me because there is physics involved in this and I fail miserably at science concepts–the weight of the 20-lb. roll of toilet paper (TP for short) precludes the ability for the ply-less paper from holding strong against the vigorous force of the pull.

(it seems Bessie the elephant has it easier in the loo than your average woman)

So the innocent bystander (or should I say sitter) in said stall is left, shall we say, holding the square. Because the paper is not going to come off but for sheet-by-miserable-sheet, while you bend over at an awkward angle (and dare I suggest that your average wheelchair-bound woman in a public restroom is likely ill-equipped to be lurching gymnastically leeward to do the TP-twist?).

To compound this dilemma, you have the auto-flush toilet (man designed? you decide…). I once was helping potty train a kid who was terrified of the auto-flush. Poor child burst into tears upon hearing the ominous rumbling of the oncoming flush, a locomotive coming down the tracks. Once, when attempted to help wipe said child, the power flush erupted after having to tilt the kid to one side, and the poor thing literally flipped into a forward roll off the toilet from fright. Leaving me—the one who always cracks up over the wrong things—to laugh till tears streamed down my face.

Okay, so how this fits in with this theme: when you are in the midst of the left-leaning swoop to try to clutch at the elusive weak-willed TP, you then move away from the omniscient laser-beam light that tells the pot it’s time to flush. So while you’re desperately grabbing for paper, that cursed thing is flushing. Again, and again, and again. Because after the first flush you instinctually sit upright to stop the thing from happening, but then darned if you don’t have to reaacchchhhh wayyyyy down to try to get that elusive paper.

Maybe the end-result of this design flaw issue is that women are less likely to use public bathrooms, an added bonus for the provider, who then saves in water usage (except when the auto-flush goes awry), paper consumption (because you can’t get to it and thus you give up even trying), and cleaning supplies (because no one is using it with the regularity of days gone by). Plus you save on all that toilet paper theft.

About that TP theft…I’m sorry! I did it! I was a stupid college student! What can I say?

Yes, I have a dirty little secret: I have to assume some of the blame in this TP quandary. I admit there were times when my college roommates and I would help ourselves to a spare roll or two from the dorm bathrooms and take them back to our apartment. On a college budget sometimes you had to choose between spending spare cash on beer or TP. I think you can guess which usually won the internal debate. I do remember being at a bar one night with three rolls tucked lumpily in my backpack. I have to concede that it would be downright impossible (not to mention awkward) to lug a 10-lb roll of that cheap paper in your backpack. Plus once you got it home, what would you do with it? You’d have to hammer a railroad stake into the wall and dangle the thing from it. (note to students: if you do so, please hang it high enough!).

I have absolutely no idea what this has to do with this blog post but it seemed like such a bizarre image I just had to include it!

Okay, so back to the design thing. I am a female. I know how to do this better. It’s actually quite logical. Put the mega-giant-gargantuan roll of toilet paper up HIGHER, people (i.e. men who have decided it should be as close to the floor tiles as humanly possible). We women will appreciate it, and I have to assume particularly those in wheelchairs will thank you as well. End of rant.

My husband joined AARP. I told him it was a mistake, if for no other reason than a psychological one. Who wants to be lumped in the oldster crowd the minute you crest 50?

(I had to put this picture in–I googled “old man with walker” to pull up a picture of an old man with a walker and THIS is what it shows me?! So I’ll say this is me defying the old man with walker mentality

Now we get brochures in the mail for nursing homes, which is premature, for one thing. Plus, with this lame economy, don’t they know we’ll be sleeping on park benches by the time we actually need a nursing home? Although by then I envision gulag-style developments where all the broke, aged baby boomers who lost their retirement savings in the real estate bubble will be relegated to wither away during their twilight years, tooling around in half-broken wheelchairs over cracked failing pavement. How’s that for golden years?! If we’re lucky we’ll be housed in all of the default-loan houses that can’t sell because no one can afford to buy them because no one can get jobs because corporations are too busy stockpiling record earnings for the top 1% of their staff to bother hiring anyone else and creating jobs so people can afford to, um, live. Sorry, I got a little off-topic. Back to early aging (although I call dibs on a house in Miami if it comes to my prediction).
My girlfriend, now in her early 50′s, joined the senior’s tennis league because she can happily whip the butts of the much older gals. She thrilled to win and win handily this way, and she’s got a valid point there. So maybe acceding to age isn’t always a mistake–it can be gratifying.

(my friend would not appreciate this picture and what it suggests about older tennis players losing their, um, charms)

I enjoyed a brief phase as a tennis player (not a good one, just serviceable). I’d always wanted to flit about in a cute tennis skirt and the only way you can really get away with that is if you play the sport. So I did, until I kept getting injured and had to stop. So I had to give up my cute skirts. Now they have exercise skirts which I’d so love to don but as a keen observer of what does and does not work in gym wear, I recognize that a) you have to have a rockin’ body to wear exercise skirts and b) you can’t be my age and get away with wearing them unless you’ve run at least ten marathons in the past five years–it’s like a golden ticket pass.
Wise to the cuteness factor of tennis skirts, for years I tried to encourage my girls to play tennis but they would have nothing to do with it. “Think of the cute outfits!” I told them, but it fell on deaf ears. And then my youngest finally got her chance for adorable sportswear last year when she was recruited to pinch-hit for her varsity field hockey team when they needed a goalie. A long-time soccer goalie, she’d never played field hockey before, and I’d never seen a match before, so I naively thought, “At last, she’s going to have a cute uniform, those adorable little plaid skirts! Lucky her!” Imagine my surprise when I showed up at the game to see my daughter in goal looking like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, garbed as she was in boxy padding that essentially hid every hint of her existence. I was happy for her from a safety standpoint, but felt badly she got the short end of the uniform stick.

I saw an exercise skirt today that I really want (but will not succumb to, knowing that it’s the female equivalent of the very large guy on the show Modern Family wearing tight bicycle shorts–a big no no for all involved. My girls forever warn me not to look like that at the gym and I generally take heed. But this girl had on a skirt with back pleats that swished when she walked and darn it, I want to swish when I walk but then I realized I’m not a swisher, never have been, and nearing 50, it’s past the point at which I’m even allowed to swish. You have to recognize your limitations, I always say. But it also doesn’t mean I have to yield to my age and join the AARP, which I won’t, thank you. At least not till I can reap the benefits of the senior citizen discounts, maybe.
Last week my husband got a special gift from AARP. A leather-look vinyl man-purse. Just the thing he needed to complete the loser picture he signed up for. As if it’s not bad enough, it’s emblazoned with the AARP logo, just to seal the deal. I suppose at least it wasn’t a man-skirt.

I dunno, maybe I’m being unfair with this whole AARP thing. Perhaps it’s useful to get the inside scoop on the latest in retirement villages. Even if it is cruel, dangling fancy retirement homes in front of him, considering at this rate we’ll never even be able to sell our house, let alone retire. We might even have to turn it into a retirement apartment or something, at the rate the economy is going.
Jenny Gardiner is the author of the award-winning novel Sleeping with Ward Cleaver, as well as the novels Slim to None and Over the Falls, the novel House of Cards, and the humorous memoir Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who’s Determined to Kill Me. She also has a story in Wade Rouse’s upcoming humorous dog anthology I’m Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship (NAL/Sept ’11), a fundraiser for the Humane Society of the US and selected animal charities.

Over the past several months of job-searching I’ve run the gamut of disses: disgusted, discouraged, dismayed and disenfranchised. Frustrated that despite valuable skills built over a lifetime, I’m left undervalued in the marketplace.

But the more I delve into this job search thing, the more I realize that I’ve been viewing it all wrong. Rather than it being an experience to drag one down, it can be an adventure. Almost like a vacation (because who can afford one anyhow?), without leaving home. Consider it employing your vivid imagination to open yourself up to new (albeit perhaps unwanted) possibilities of who you can be.

Take my experience with Monster.com. After spending too much time filling out forms on the website in order for Monster’s algorithms to find the perfect career opportunity for me, I sat back and waited, trusting that their professional expertise would be put to good use. The next morning an email from Monster awaited me, with my future potential dream job listed on my screen: assistant manager at Spencer’s Gifts.

Now, for those who haven’t spent time lurking in dark corners of shopping malls, Spencer’s is the place you go to for puerile titillation, if you need, say, boob cubes (breast-shaped ice cube molds), or fake dog doo to fool your friends and neighbors. They traffic in schlock. A dream job for your average 14-year old boy, maybe. For me? Not so much.

Now at first, I was insulted by this career pitch, wondering who the jokester was sending me lowbrow job opportunities. Not that there’s anything wrong with the job, mind you, but it’s not exactly the place I imagined my skills would be put to best use. Plus there’s something unseemly about a middle-aged mom ringing up perverted products and re-stocking pop-up pecker lighters and blow-up love dolls.

Although I must admit I thought about trying to land the job, and then pitching a memoir to my literary agent about my year as a purveyor of raunch. Sadly it’s the kind of book that sells nowadays

.

The next day, I got my trusty email from Monster, and realized their insult was nothing personal. Rather Monster hasn’t a clue. Because they suggested yet another job for which I was ill-suited: architect. I’m pretty sure it takes a bit of schooling to become an architect. Plus my mother used to always say to me (with the best of intentions), “Pity the person who has to drive over a bridge you built,” knowing as she did that a career as one who must build things safely was not meant to be in my future.

That suggestion was followed up by one that I apply for a lineman job. And curse them, because Glen Campbell crooning The Wichita Lineman has been stuck on an endless loop in my brain since I saw that listing. The thing is, I have no idea what a lineman is, other than the person who would climb up telephone poles to fix live wires, and with a morbid fear of heights—not to mention electrocution–no go there for moi.

Today Monster suggested I can be an occupational therapist, and once I figure out what that is, I’m pretty sure I’ll learn I needed to have studied something occupation-like in college to qualify. Although perhaps I need an occupational therapist to find work.

I gave up on Monster when they urged me to apply for a position as a senior in vitro neuroscientist/cellular electro physiologist. In Shanghai, no less.

Woe to the singles world if Monster was a dating service.

Craiglist lists a few vague jobs guaranteeing six-figure salaries, yet posts no information about the business. I think you have to meet them on a dark street corner at 3 a.m. to talk more about what they want. Another great career, killed before it began. I applied for a position in which I was then asked to send my credit record and bank information to complete strangers. I might be under-employed, but I’m not stupid.

I’ ve definitely been held back in my ability to exceed our imagination, job-wise, by living in a small town. I can’t fathom the fun job prospects available to shoot down if I lived in a major metropolitan area—maybe working a jackhammer atop a skyscraper, or being a nanny to Donald Trump’s daughter’s impending baby. In the meantime, closer to home, I’ll just have to pretend I can be a forensics fingerprint analyst, an airport ramp operator, a dog groomer, a postdoctoral research fellow, or a mattress deputy (don’t ask). Or the latest well-contemplated recommendation from Monster: driver of a Porta-John truck. I’m not kidding

.

Granted, none of these rates high on the list of things I could or should do in my life, but hey, for a minute it’s fun to think I can truly do whatever I want. And actually get paid for it. Now there’s an idea whose time has come.

(just thought I’d add this: I found out about a job for which I was ideally qualified, and only then did I find out it was posted on Monster, but Monster failed to let me know….Go figure)