What Moves You to Make Art?

I'll never forget when the song Fallin’ Slowly, from the movie Once, won the Oscar for Best Original Song - up against three, count them,  three from Disney’s Enchanted.  Glen Hansard received the award with co-writer and co-star Markéta Irglová, gleefully shouting, before he was dragged away from the mic, “MAKE ART!” I wrote those words on a piece of paper and stuck it to my fridge. I hadn't seen Once yet, but did shortly after, and found it lovely. Four years later, (May 8, 2012, to be exact) I went to see the Broadway musical version of Once to find the dialogue had been changed, several compelling characters added, and the most exquisite movement and choreography employed, elevating Once from satisfying film to transcendent theatrical experience. The romance, too, had been kicked up just enough to make the ending unbearably bittersweet. I was sobbing like an idiot just before I leapt to my feet to applaud with the rest of the audience. The making of art, in this case, had been raised to a level I’m sure Hansard never imagined when he uttered his joyful admonition at the Academy Awards.

I’ve been an actor and/or writer my whole life - have rarely known a moment when I wasn’t involved in some creative pursuit. So, though I was inspired by Hansard’s utterance, I didn’t exactly need his permission.  I find inspiration for making art in art: film, theater, music, dance, painting, sculpture, and, of course, literature. Like many artists, the greatness of others fuels me. I’m set on fire by the writers I love: Luis Alberto Urrea, Audrey Niffenegger, George Eliot, Dickens, Neil Gaiman, Shakespeare, Thomas Hardy, and of course, (you just have to read my books to see the influence) Jane Austen.  I get energy from films like Midnight in Paris, The Godfather, Taxi Driver, Moulin Rouge, Casablanca, Stranger than Fiction, 500 Days of Summer, and Becoming Jane,…which makes me think of actors whose performances move me: Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep, Toni Collette, Colin Firth, George Clooney, Philip Seymour Hoffman.... I'm carried away by the music of Muse, The Decemberists, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, Elvis Costello, Jack White, Beethoven, Chopin and Monk. When I go to a museum I seek to absorb the passion of Van Gogh, Michelangelo, Kandinsky, Monet, Caravaggio, Rodin, Pollack and Chagall...

After seeing Once, I stumbled out of the theater into the lights of Times Square, my world rocked. Perhaps those words, “Make art,” had pushed the originators of the film on to this finer incarnation, I thought, but couldn't help wonder exactly what was the source of their creative spark. So I put hands to keyboard to ask all those artistic souls out there:  What is your Once? Who is your Anne Hathaway, your Jane Austen, which is your Midnight in Paris, your Monk, your Monet? Is it something intangible that inspires you? Is it nature or pain, or joy or spirit? What moves you to MAKE art? 

Video of Hansard's acceptance speech: (don't worry, they called  Irglová back on stage later so she could make her own remarks)

http://youtu.be/qx8yLvb0gZM

And here's the full version of Fallin' Slowly:

http://youtu.be/k8mtXwtapX4

Dad Made me a Nerd

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I'm a nerd because of my dad. Not that he tried to make me one; I'm sure he didn't consider himself a nerd at all. But he loved science fiction. He's the reason I was hooked on Star Trek all my life, and so into authors like Ray Bradbury and Arthur C. Clarke. When he met my husband-to-be for the first time, their mutual conversation about sci/fi made them fall more in love with each other than I might have been with either one at the time.

On April 27th, 2012, the space shuttle Enterprise made its historic flight on a 747 around New York City in preparation for its final resting place on the Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum...and I missed it. Fortunately, I've been to NASA. Twice. The first time was with my dad, the second was last summer during part of my family's odyssey around the western United States to memorialize his life. I freakin' love NASA. We got to see the shuttle up close, and everything involved in making the program function. There is an awesome museum at NASA too, (which you can get to only through an annoying child's play center they recently built), where they have all kinds of paraphernalia from the various U.S. space missions: space suits, journals, freeze-dried food packages, and, coolest of the cool, the actual lunar modules that have been on the moon! I remember my dad being glued to every moon landing, even after many people, including me, I suppose, lost interest in them. Years later though, I was thrilled to death to meet Gene Cernan, the last man to walk on the moon.

My dad's as much a hero, as much a larger-than-life personality as any astronaut. He was an intellectual who never stopped learning - a computer geek into his 80s. He wasn't a scientist, but he was really into science. He loved reading about it and watching shows about it - my husband and my son both share that same kind of enthusiasm. Though I'm not as geeky as them, I'm fascinated with many aspects of the scientific world, especially physics, as of late, since I write about time-travel. I nearly flipped when I found out scientists in Switzerland thought they'd broken though the speed of light, the implications of which translate to eventual time-travel, and made me think that perhaps one day I could journey back in time to Jane Austen's England or pre-Civil War NYC, just like in my books. But alas, looks like the experiment wasn't legit. It's funny that of all things to write about, I'd end up incorporating sci-fi into my books, yet because of my dad's influence, it makes sense.

On this first anniversary of my dad's passing, (May 3rd, 2011) I feel a special sense of national pride in the former space shuttle program, the Enterprise craft, named of course after the Star Trek ship, and all the ventures into space that the U.S. made. I wish we had the budget to keep it going; dad would have loved that. But I think I'll make a special trip to the Intrepid to see the Enterprise once it's installed there. In saluting it, I'll salute my dad and his love for the world of science and space. I know he was proud of this particular nerd-girl.

A Minute For Your Opinion

Hello dear and faithful friends and followers:
If you have read either or both of my books, please take a minute and click on these survey links. Your opinion will help me immensely as I move forward with the promotion of my books. Thanks! I love you!

Survey - The Time Baroness      Survey - The Time Heiress

Two Fun/Film Articles

I recently wrote a couple of articles for you film fans out there. One is a review of The Artist: http://www.chicklitclub.com/movie-night.html#theartist
The other is a an article that highlights the accomplishments of film-maker Dito Montiel, at a gala honoring his life and work so far: http://www.qgazette.com/news/2012-03-21/Features/APAC_Honors_Dito_Montiel.html
Enjoy!

Bodice Rippers and Other Guilty Pleasures

I hate to admit that I sometimes read trash. Those of us who consider ourselves "serious readers," claim we never stoop to the level of reading chicklit, or romance or, god forbid, Jackie Collins. And yet, some of us have found ourselves actually writing in those genres! (Is Jackie Collins a genre in herself?) In my case, it's romantic time-travel. Here's a review from a reader (anonymous) who seemed to like my book, The Time Baroness, but hated herself for doing so. I found the review quite amusing.

"Well, i realized I had screwed up my birth control pills and had forgotten to take one for three days and so, on the fourth day (when I realized this) I figured it made no sense to try and "double up to catch up" four days of pills and I instead decided to just not take any and let the cycle run its course. Which means (since I was only in the second week of pills) that I had a period ten days after I just had a period. That should fully explain the hormonal state that led me to be reading a book called The Time Baroness with a cover like that!
Don't judge me!
At any rate, listen: this book has time travel AND Jane Austen's England. To me (remember the hormones) that read like a combination only topped by the Ghost Rider movies which have a character that is half Nicolas Cageand half flaming skull. Seriously!
This book didn't fail to deliver on either of those two things and it was actually a pretty good little story on top of it. It wasn't a very complex story, overall, but it was an entertaining one and the writing wasn't bad. I don't know that I would rush out to buy this book (although I did ::whispers:: rush right to buy the next one, Time Heiress. Don't judge me!) but if you like time travelling characters trying to be Jane Austen characters, then read it if you get the chance!"

A Shocking Subject

I'm going to discuss something that no-one ever talks about except inner circles of women-of-a-certain-age: Hot Flashes (reader falls on the floor, stunned that someone as young and gorgeous as myself has any experience with the shameful topic). Yes, I'd like to pretend that I'm too young for that dreaded word, menopause, and no, it is not a favorite topic of conversation among Nerd-girls, but I don't give a crap anymore. I have tried, literally, everything to reduce or eliminate them and I don't use the word "literally" lightly.




Here are the things I've tried or am still trying:
Wild Mexican Yam
Siberian Rhubarb
Black Cohosh
Sage
Raspberry leaf
Chamomile
Motherwort
(let's just say every herb known to woman)
Not drinking
Not smoking
Lots of sex
No caffeine
No chocolate (wait, stop, this one I cannot agree to)
No sugar
No meat (or only meat and dairy raised without hormones)
More soy
Less soy
Lots of fruit and vegetables
Lots of exercise
Chinese herbs recommended by my acupuncturist
Acupuncture
Acupressure
Yoga
Light therapy
Essential oils

The only thing I haven't and will not try is hormone replacement therapy because I think it's weird and risky. My doctor, poor thing, also suffering from hot flashes, agrees.
Can I ask you why modern medicine was so quick to come up with a cure for male impotence but the thing that middle-aged women have been suffering with for eons goes basically unheeded? Well, we all know the answer to that. I have researched on the web, talked to everyone, professional and lay, and no one has a real solution to hot flashes other than...buy a fan.

And it seems to be taboo to say in public, "Wait, hang on, I'm having a hot flash, give me a second." Women just barrel through their jobs turning bright red and sweating profusely, hoping no one notices. Why? Because it's embarrassing. Why is it embarrassing? Because women don't want to admit going through menopause. It's kind of like saying, "Hi everyone, I'm no longer getting my period." It seems personal and private and yet it's very hard to hide. Do you know how much fun it is when I'm teaching my adult ESL students, most of whom are in their 20s, and I suddenly turn scarlet and grab for anything nearby with which to fan myself? I feel like an idiot, but I shouldn't have to. Oh, and did I mention the waking up drenched in sweat several times a night? That's fun too.

So I'm getting it out into the open right now. Yes, I have hot flashes, yes, I'm of that age. And if anyone out there can find me a way to end or reduce them, right now, you will have my undying gratitude and adoration.

A Giveaway! (You Know You Want It!)

Yay! I'm giving away a print copy of The Time Heiress on Goodreads! If you're a member, please click on the link and enter. If you don't belong to Goodreads, why not? Take a minute to sign up, it's a nice site for sharing opinions and getting suggestions for books.
http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/20355-the-time-heiress
Here's a description of The Time Heiress to pique your interest (and if you don't want to wait for the Giveaway to end, you can always buy it on Amazon for 0.99 or borrow it if you belong to Kindle Prime - the link to the book is on the right of this page.)

Good luck, everyone!


Dr. Cassandra Reilly is surprised to find herself time-traveling again, this time to New York of 1853, accompanying the internationally acclaimed artist, Evie Johnston. Evie has funded the trip, explaining that she wishes to meet her ancestors, activists in the Underground Railroad. However, the beautiful painter has another agenda altogether. 

When they arrive in the pre-Civil War city, Evie's deception embroils both her and Cassandra in the activities of the abolitionist revolutionaries, a situation fraught with danger, as well as unexpected romance. Cassandra struggles to keep history intact, and to keep herself and Evie from falling victim to a gang of human traffickers. All the while, each woman discovers how the past has a way of becoming all too personal and present, as they both fall under the spell of the time and people they meet.