So, I’m pretty sure I’ve told a version of this story before, deep in the mines of my LJ, but in the wake of the surprising news that both One Life to Live and All My Children have been cancelled (to be replaced with talk shows, one of which is about food and is called THE CHEW, as apparently nothing gets people’s appetites going like being reminded of chewing tobacco and/or cud), I feel like it’s worth telling again.

Right after I moved to New York, I worked for a temp agency that specialized in the entertainment industry. It was just like normal temping, except you were stuffing envelopes while simultaneously fielding phone calls about a celebrity who refused to give an interview unless her significant other was present, which was fine except she had broken a leg or something in another country and so the company was scrambling to fly the significant other first class on a plane to get to her bedside in time for the interview to be edited for the evening E! broadcast.

(Caveat: I ran into this same celebrity, alongside significant other, almost exactly a year later, working the Met Costume Institute Gala for my event-planner boss. They were very sweet, and I like them. Also, my day jobs used to be a lot more anecdote-friendly!)

As it turns out, the best job I ever had through that company was at the office that was producing a televised award show. I started on a Monday; by Wednesday they had me writing magazine inserts and copy for the official program. It was pretty awesome.

However, the best thing about that job was that our offices were next door to Unnamed Soap Opera’s writing room, and they believed in keeping the door open.

I spent several weeks writing trivia questions and unabashedly eavesdropping as the writers suggested that she be amnesiac AND temporarily blind, so she could fall in love with the identical (evil) twin of the local noble/business owner; the subplot involved framing someone for murder and a lot of mentions of “learning by touch” (awwww yeaaaaaaah), and at some point a noble yet naïve young person was going to try to save said gentleman by entering into a shady business deal with someone who had faked their own death and gone underground.

There could be a bunch of Things I Learned here about passion for storytelling and embracing the slightly-camp and the cumulative benefits of getting Soapdish: The Live Show piped directly to you for several weeks, but I think it’s clear that it was just something that was exactly as awesome as it sounds, and even though I am not a big soap watcher, I think it’s sad that two such iconic shows will be gone.

(Actually, no, I did learn something: no soap opera character is ever, ever too comatose to whisper someone’s name at precisely the wrong moment.)

Mechanique‘s release date is only a few weeks away! I’m excited, and have been thinking of possible launch parties that would be both vaguely thematically relevant and actually involve being outside my apartment. (In order to be relevant to my usual interests, I will have to write a book called “Uneventful Weekend: A Story of the Snarky Pajama Party Academy.”)

In the end, I decided there was only one way to do this right.

So, I’m throwing a circus.

On Friday, May 6, from 7-10pm, everyone should come to the House of Yes in Brooklyn for snacks, cheap drinks, and some awesome aerial performances.

My book will also be available, hopefully at a discount off the cover price for those inclined to buy, but come on – it’s a warehouse circus. You know it’s going to be good.

(It will probably be better lit than this, ideally dimmed to somewhere just between Hipstamatic and Able to Safely Maneuver.)

Hope to see you there!

I have had a busy couple of weeks, which sadly means that my media consumption has gone down. Meanwhile, somewhere far away, Netflix servers are sighing with relief.

However, progress is being made! (Something something achievement something gaming metaphor.) This weekend my mom’s in town, so we’re doing family-type things). However, I am still around, trying to watch what I can. Most things I am watching recently are delicious in some way or another and worth sharing. They include:

- Camelot (cheeseball gold)
- The Borgias (talk about a family-type thing – HEYOOOO)
- A rewatch of Downton Abbey, with surprise cameo by Mom. (How did I not write about this show yet? With those actor and those costumes? Shame on me. I will try to rectify that in the near future.)

Things I have watched recently that were fine but not worth sharing include:

- Everything on the Food Network, which is absorbing while it happens and then gone like a vapor as soon as it’s over. (Uttered far too late at night a few nights ago: “No, I’ll miss the train, it’s fine, is that restaurant going to get carpet in time to open or what?!”)

(This is why I generally avoid reality TV of any kind; if you give me the barest hint of conflict or urgency my blood pressure soars and I HAVE TO KNOW. It is also why I sometimes decline to watch awesome but suspenseful shows that have not finished their entire broadcast run; I watch all the preceding seasons in a binge weekend, then have heart palpitations between episodes. Yes, I am a preliminary geezer. I don’t know what to tell you.)

There are also a couple of fun things in the works that are not TV-related. I know, I know, I’m also shocked, but into every life some “going outside” must fall.

This happened yesterday, and though I usually don’t mention New York street stories (I tend to feel like a satisfactory number of New York stories are covered with some form of popular media already), this really struck me as one of those “If this was fiction, you would say it was over the top” stories.

I’m waiting for the bus. In line in front of me is a very tall, very pretty, very young lady reading a book. An older and vaguely skeevy man sees her and crosses the street to hug her. I bristle and prepare to be the nosey aunt who can’t mind her business.

She seems to know him in a very vague way (certainly gets out of the hug ASAP), and after the “Hi, how are you?” she moves directly into talking about how great the bookshelf is working out, thanks, and whether it’s okay for her to paint it or if it won’t stick.

(You’d think this is a safe topic. You’d be wrong.)

“Why don’t I buy you a drink and we can talk it over?” he says. (On his far side, the grandma ahead of us in line makes an “Are you kidding” face, because seriously, are you kidding.)

Thus begins this jerk striking out harder than anyone has ever struck out.
Continue reading

So, as it happens, next Wednesday, March 16, I’ll be joining Carolyn Turgeon for a reading at KGB’s Fantastic Fiction series!

Mechanique’s pub date is still several weeks away, so it won’t be available for purchase at KGB because of how time travel hasn’t been invented yet. However, there will still be a way to snag some ARCs!

If you are interested in an ARC of Mechanique, you can (if all goes well) take a ticket at the door*, and after I read I’ll draw for three copies!

If you are unable to make it to the reading and are still interested in an ARC, I’ve held a couple of copies in reserve and will be doing a giveaway online, as well, through some magical plan I will think of very shortly.

I’m a huge fan of the KGB reading series, and am thrilled about this reading. Hope to see some of you there!

* Actual location of “door” yet to be determined, but the big honking roll of tickets will be hard to miss, both because they are brightly colored and also the kind friend who is handing them out is very tall.