Trident wrote back to me with a list of stores that sell their gum in my area. Of course, they avoided my question, which is why there's no cinnamon. But someone told me to just get it at Duane Reade in NY.

I watched Bowling for Columbine yesterday. I can't believe this won the Oscar. The first half hour or so is very good, looking at guns, and then it veers into things like racism and fears in the late '70s (killer bees) that are completely unrelated. Yes, I get that with the killer bees, he's trying to show that Americans have a culture of fear, but the racism is hardly tied in at all. It sort of comes off as Bowling for a Smorgasbord of Things Liberals are Pissed Off About. And yeah, I'm a bleeding-heart myself, but I don't think Michael Moore causes anyone to change sides by making a movie where he throws in 20 disparate elements.

I also don't like the idea, regarding the killer bees and such, that just because it didn't happen, we shouldn't have been afraid of it. I don't like that idea in general; it's important to be prepared than to be caught off guard. Would we have been better off if the killer bees had come, so that we wouldn't have looked stupid? He talks about how there was never a razor in an apple, and says that in the last 40 years, only two kids have died from Halloween candy, and they were poisoned by relatives. Okay, fine, but it doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful on a holiday that flies in the face of the most basic lesson we're taught as tots -- don't take candy from strangers. How many kids have been injured from Halloween pranks? Probably more than have died from them, but Michael Moore has no way of knowing.

The part in the movie about Welfare to Work is very good. But he could have done a whole movie about that. In fact, there are a lot of good points and moments in the movie that, with actual research and more examples from around the country, could have convinced people who were on the fence about changing things. Michael Moore's smartass, taunting actions (like going to people's private homes and offices and demanding to see them) aren't a substitute for the good research and examples he has at the beginning of the movie. They can too easily be picked apart. I admire him for having the courage to shock people, and some conditions in this country are so terrible that we need someone to shock us. But when he just comes off as a smartass or extremist, he is going to just start getting ignored.

Finally, part of the documentary shows how the network news reports so much violence. But doesn't a documentary on gun violence cause fear also? So, do we need good journalism or not?

Well, I didn't intend to ramble on about this for this long. I guess I would like to see him keep doing what he does. On the whole, we need Michael Moore more than we don't. I've seen episodes of his cable show, and they were very good. Anyway, he won an Oscar, so maybe I'm just whining.

On another note, I'm going to be on the radio at 3 or 4 a.m. Sunday morning being interviewed on WOR-AM about my books. I'm not sure exactly what time it will run, or if I will sound coherent, so don't wait up. I'm going to try to tape it.

On another note (2), last night at 3 a.m. I heard two girls who had just broken up with each other having a loud argument. The bars let out at 3 a.m., and that's when I always hear fights. One girl was outside the other one's car, shouting through the window. She wanted to know when she could come pick up her "shit," but she didn't trust her ex-girlfriend because of all her lies. "You owe me for a lifetime!" she yelled. They also argued over who had been calling whom too much. "You called me Tuesday, you called me Wednesday, and you text messaged me Wednesday," the one outside said.

The fact that I have no cell phone, cable or air conditioning sometimes makes me the object of derision. Like, one friend just wrote:

fancy faux fireplace (alliteration, ooh la la) but no cable. thou art mad, woman. mad, i say!

I might follow this young adult literature blog: http://maslinda.blogspot.com/

Pizza boxes are really hard to throw out.

I got a nice e-mail from someone who read Carrie Pilby and brought it to her therapist to talk about it.

Where has all the Trident cinnamon gum gone? It's much harder to find than other flavors. I have e-mailed the proper authorities on this, and will get back to you when I have a result.

Blogfan Sam suggested that I save the 20 pages of Novel 3 that I cut, to show off some day if it does well. Well, I'll save them, but I doubt you'll want to read 'em. Sludge from a pretty river is still sludge.

It's funny when you're thinking about your novel-in-progress, and you suddenly realize it would be better off if you cut out a 20-page scene that really doesn't add anything anymore, and only serves to put in unecessary extra characters and hinder readers from getting to the real action.

You put it in long ago when you thought it would matter, but now it doesn't.

BUH-BYE!

Woke up, got dressed, etc.

I won't blather about my book at all today. Thanks for putting up with it. Instead, I would like to point out that few people are as talented -- in so many different ways -- as is Wes, as seen on his blog.

This page is best viewed standing on your head.

I have confirmation that the weekend soaring of my Amazon rank and bn.com rank is due to the new People (dated March 29) -- subscribers got it on Friday. It's a brief mention, but apparently it was enough to push it toward the top...

I'm almost done with the DaVinci Code. I looked at the Amazon reviews on it, of which readers have logged more than 2,000, and some of them made me hurt myself laughing so hard. When something gets that popular, there's always going to be backlash, and so it is with some of these nutty reviews. Some of the reviewers are fighting with each other. Check it out when bored at work.

Reader Brad pointed out that the thing I figured out with the book jacket relates to the freemasons, and reader Jake noted that there's a Random House website for the book that mentions that there are codes hidden on the dust jacket and cover.

I just heard another annoying On*Star commercial. This one was, "Help I just locked my daughter in the car, and she's choking herself with the seat belt." The On*Star woman unlocked the car remotely. That is pretty impressive, but why didn't the mom SMASH THE $^# WINDOW? Well, maybe you can't do that. Howard Stern spoofed those commercials a few weeks ago...I don't remember exactly what the spoof was, but I'm sure it had peepee and caca in it.

With my mind wandering, as it usually does, I noticed that on the book jacket of DaVinci Code (regrettably still 226 notches above my book on Amazon, ha ha), certain leters are slightly bolded. I wrote them down, and it says, "Is there no help for the widows son." I knew that I couldn't be the only one to figure this out, as this book's been a best-seller for some time, so I put it into the internet. There are some citings, and it's apparently got to do with the Mormons. I don't care enough to look up anything else about it. If you have the hardcover, check it out and you'll see. Anyway, I'm about a third of the way through the book.

I've been more interested in reading stuff related to the documentary Capturing the Friedmans, which I saw a few days ago. Truly haunting and riveting.

My Amazon ranking for Starting from Square Two has been zooming all day, and so has my bn.com. I guess this is because of People, although I'm not 100 percent sure, because I don't know if the March 29 issue is on stands yet. I'll have to see what develops!

I woke up this morning and it was SNOWING!! I just think that's a riot. Spring begins tomorrow. Just remember, folks, it tends to rain almost every weekend in April around here. Every year, it happens and people start complaining, and they forget that it happened the previous year. April showers bring May flowers.

So my book is mentioned in an upcoming issue of PEOPLE(March 29), which just appeared on Nexus today and was e-mailed to me. It's one of the five spring chick picks...here's what they say!

HEADLINE: Spring's Best Chick Lit;
This spring our top chick-lit picks offer gossipy girlfriends, adventures in dating land, cupcakes (both male and frosted varieties) and other light-hearted fluff that's surprisingly filling.

BYLINE: Andrea L. Sachs

FAT CHANCE by Deborah Blumenthal
CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET? by Sophie Kinsella
WEDDING SEASON by Darcy Cosper
WEEKEND IN PARIS by Robyn Sisman
STARTING FROM SQUARE TWO by Caren Lissner

STARTING FROM SQUARE TWO

Gert Healy hates being single because every man she meets is not her husband--or, more to the point, her recently deceased husband. Pals help her with their cockeyed "Rules," such as advising her to sit in the middle seat of air-planes to maximize chatting opportunities. Amid the dating hoopla, Gert bravely finds love the second time around. --A.L.S.

Anyway, that's good.

So you've noticed I haven't been updating the blog much. I've been resting and trying not to be on the computer all the time, and re-analyzing my life (does it ever help?) and catching up on reading.

Does writing save my life, or harm it? Should it have that big a role, either way? It's what I do, it's how I think...and I generally like doing it. So I guess I should consider myself lucky, rather than wondering how life would be different without it. It makes me happy (when it's not driving me crazy) and I can't imagine not doing it. I just have to maintain the proper balance of writing life and real life. That can't be so hard.

Via Ned Vizzini's blog, a link to celebrity palindromes.

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

Is it really supposed to snow Thursday and Friday?? What a riot!!

It's snowing. What a mess!

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

I finally got to read Why Girls Are Weird. Such fun! The novel came out last summer when mine did, and it centers on a woman, Anna K, who has a very popular blog and starts seeing the things she writes on her blog interfere with her personal life. There's a lot of suspense regarding what happens with her ex-boyfriend, adoring pen pal(s), and family. I was impressed that the family part was well-done, since often a chick-lit author will try to throw in a few family or work episodes to make the book seem more well-rounded, but sometimes fails. In WGAW, it worked. So hats off to popular blogger Pam Ribon. (Hmmm...when she mentioned my novel in December, she sent like 500 people my way. So now I get to send her 2.5 in return.)

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

My arm still feels weak, so I won't be blogging or doing e-mail much in the next few days.

A few people have e-mailed me to say they couldn't find Starting from Square Two in bookstores. Sometimes it is put in the romance section. While that keeps the book out of the view corridor of some readers, the nice thing is that it also allows it to be reviewed by the many romance sites. One of them just gave it a very nice review. (Scroll down - it's the fourth book.) They gave it ten out of ten. Thanks!

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Trivia was packed last night. At least one person answers "Bea Arthur" for a question each week in which the answer is a man.

Due to attempts at shoulder-healing, relaxation, etc., and to encroaching newspaper deadlines, I am going to lay off the computer a lot in the next few days. That means a lack of blogging and not much e-mail answering. Once I start surfing the net, I don't stop. So I'm taking a breather for a few days to see if I can heal better.

In the mean time, let it snow! (Just kidding.)

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Wes responded to Anonymous' deal-breakers. That's pretty funny. Click the link to (the pretty darn handsome!) Wes after reading Anonymous.

I forgot to mention that this morning in Hoboken, I saw several women walking down the street wearing green. Which means they didn't change since yesterday...you get my point.

I forgot to mention that it's supposed to snow tomorrow. To all of y'all who complained that it snowed a lot this winter -- that's what winter DOES. And spring is two weeks away, and it will get warmer and warmer as it approaches (except tomorrow). So rejoice that the seasons you enjoyed as a kid have returned, and stop kvetching.

I should update my barometer blog instead of neglecting it.

On the news, they said that a 21-year-old woman who was missing in NY (I've seen the posters up myself) was just found. She was supposed to visit her family two weeks ago but instead somehow ended up at a place in the Hamptons. She's okay, though. She saw an item on the TV news about her and called home. It seems like there have been more missing persons signs up lately than normal, so I'm glad there's one less to fear for.

I watched the '80s movie "Gotcha," which was actually not as bad as I thought it would be. Since it's about the Assassination Game - something people played in my high school that would never fly today - I thought it was pretty cool in ninth grade when it came out, and since it's from the '80s, I figured it'd be needlessly schlocky when I watched it again, but it was only a little schlocky. Probably 'cuz it was from '85 and thus almost into the modern era.

I know that a few women read this who are writers. Glamour magazine is having an essay contest. Send them a personal essay of 3,000 words or less, and you may win $5,000 and a lunch in NYC with an agent, as well as publication of your essay. This isn't a bad way to get in the door.

Anonymous Blogger has an interesting entry today, still on the subject of deal-breakers. He makes Dawn's deal-breakers sound worse than they are, though; really, the main place the two of them really differ is on the entries involving God.

While I'm not religious, I admire Dawn for sticking by her beliefs. I imagine it's tough to be a religious person if you live in NYC and care about music and pop culture the way Dawn does. Many people are scornful of religion, which is certainly an easier thing to be in this neck of the woods than to be religious.

"Your Puppy dream means something or someone is out of control in your life, and the solution may seem way too complicated, but the real solution is actually very simple. Stop over thinking a problem, and the simple solution will prove to be the proper one, saving you a lot of grief in the process.
Please note that there are a million dream interpretation books out there and I haven't read a single one, so I could just be talking out my pancreas.
With a grain of salt, Sam."

Note that in the puppy pancreas dream, the puppy was perfectly fine doing this and suffered no ill effects.

Today is St. Pat's Parade day in Hoboken. They do it early here so they don't have to compete with other cities (NYC) for marching bands. I went to do my laundry at 9:30 a.m. and the liquor store downstairs was already open. Now the street is full of green silly string. Some people outside are singing, "Livin' on a Prayer." Jersey pride! But the skies keep opening up suddenly, showering everyone with rain, so the revelry is getting washed up.

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

I had a dream that there was a puppy somewhere who was hungry, but it was really cold or was snowing in in the town in which I lived or something, so no one could reach it to feed it. (It wasn't my puppy; I just knew about it.) So a veterinarian had to call the puppy and give it instructions on how to remove and eat its pancreas, then stitch itself back up. The heroic puppy did so. Later it realized there was a hole in its cage it could have climbed through to go get food. I just woke up a second ago and don't understand how I was buying this whole thing, but while asleep, it seemed completely realistic. I'm thinking that later today I may get on here and erase it, because as the day goes on, I will feel more and more strange that I even though about it.

Last night was my reading in Hoboken, and thanks soooo much to everyone who turned out. Coming to see someone read parts of their book is kind, considering we can all just read them ourselves, but hopefully the Q&A was somewhat helpful or amusing, and there was a little food. So thanks, all.

I am going to see a real dr. on Monday about my shoulder. I think I might go back to bed now to celebrate not having to go to work today. (And to stop using my shoulder to type.)

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Thanks to Lori for passing along this timed quiz. See how many of the 50 states you can identify. If you can't, you fail 3rd grade and the little bus comes to take you away.

Woke up. Put on clothes. Went to work.

An update on the "Gay Penguin" saga...a homosexual penguin wants to run for president. It's amazing that in a society that considers itself modern, it took this long!

Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

Finally finished revisions to both screenplays. Since I wrote the first draft of the first one three years ago, it was time to get done. It feels good. Of course, now I will show it to more professional folks who may suggest more revisions. But phase 1 (or 2, or 3) is done.

Two doctor's appts today for my shoulder. So I may not blog much again today. Unless I can come up with something really pithy to say.

Well, okay. One thing that really pisses me off. It's happened a few times in the last year (and not recently, so don't think it's you): When someone asks me to pick a dinner or lunch or drinks place, and I say, "Are you sure you don't have a preference," and they say, "No, I don't care, just pick something" and I offer up a place or two, and then they pause and say they don't like those places. So if you say you don't care and that I should pick, don't THEN reject my suggestions, you putz.

Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

My right shoulder hurts. I think I dislocated it. Too much writing. Must see doctor. Bye.

Woke up, put clothes on, didn't go to work.

Jeff Somers reviews his writing career. Please publish him so he can afford to put on clothes (see photo), something I do every day. (Put on clothes, that is.)

Remember, if you're in the NY area, you can come to my reading Friday, March 5.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

The Anonymous Blogger makes a wonderful pledge today. I appreciate it, but I think his anonymity will be safe. Thanks anyway, Bob. Um...ha...just kidding. His name isn't Bob. Probably.

Woke
up,
put
on clothes,
-and-
went
to work.

Someone reported seeing Starting from Square Two in a Border's in Connecticut today; someone saw it in B&N in Manhattan, and two people were notified by Amazon that it's shipping to them today. Thanks for the reports!

Also, last night a young Pilby reader in Fla. e-mailed me to say she liked it: "it's hard to find female authors who don't write about shoes and affairs."

Well, there's a near affair or two in Pilby, but to hell with shoes. I've worn the same black Rockport sneakers for the last 800 days in a row.

I know this blog hasn't been very interesting, but work has been busy.

I went to a chiropractor for the first time ever today, because my back shoulder hurt. He touched different muscles and tried to get me to push his hand down with my arm as he did that. There were a few times that he touched a muscle and I couldn't push his hand. "Your skull's out of alignment," he said. "This bone is out of whack." He pressed them and then I was able to push his hand down. Amazing! He said I have to have my right arm more level when I used my mouse.

Screenplay revisions will be done after this weekend. So nice to finally finish!

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Publisher's Weekly gave my new book a good review: "STARTING FROM SQUARE TWO Caren Lissner. Red Dress Ink, $12.95 paper (320p)

Everything comes easily to Gert Healy: dating, love, marriage. But [since] her husband, Marc, die[d] in a car accident, 29-year-old Gert must search for happily ever after -- again. A morbid take on romantic comedy, to be sure, but in Lissner's hands, Gert's story is poignant, sweet and smart. Gert re-enters the dating world with the help of her college roommate, Hallie, and Hallie's high school friend Erika. ... Hallie and Erika grapple more shrilly with their unbearable singlehood -- especially Erika, who broke up with her college sweetheart and now faces the agony of hearing about his charmed life on his wife's Web log. Though Lissner's supporting characters aren't as nuanced as the appealing Gert, even Hallie and Erika gain depth as the novel builds to a thoughtful conclusion. Lissner's sturdy prose and sympathetic, detailed evocation of young widowhood makes this a solid entry in the genre. (Mar.)"

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

It looks like people who ordered Starting from Square Two from Amazon will get it in a day or two.

I also see that the book Generation SLUT just came out. In December, I wrote a guest column for MobyLives about young Gen Y writers and why they don't have a literary spokesman like Gen X did. Mostly we see Britney and Justin as their leaders. Marty Beckerman had written this book, Generation SLUT, showing that today's teens are jaded and rush into sex without having meaningful relationships. I think the book should have shown a bit more of the other side, as I'm sure there are nerdier teens out there we don't hear from as much. But it also seems that Beckerman was the only one having the courage to bring the jaded-ness of today's teens to light in order to get us to talk about it. More Gen Y writers should be putting the issues of their generation out in the open and commenting on them. Gen Y grew up in relatively peaceful and prosperous times and then saw it all topple. Their big news events were Columbine and Monica. What's the effect of this? I'd like to hear more from them.

Somehow, a photo of me got into the Onion. Well, it's a crowd scene, but that's me in front...and they've Photoshopped a picture of Osama bin laden on everyone's shirt. Um, great. Thanks, Mary Beth, for pointing this out (it's the second photo):

Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

I might actually get to catch up on things today. Last week was hellish.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Read below for news on my upcoming reading/booksigning March 5.

Finally catching up on some mail...
From: Blaise Mbassi and Sister.
Abidjan-Cote D'Ivoire.
Tel: 0022505304847.
Email: blaisembassi1@postino.it

Attn: Ceo/ Manager,

I got your contacts during our desparate search for a helper. I have an
explanation for you - this however must have to be considered by you but never mandatory nor will I in any manner compel you to honour against your will.
I am Mr Blaise Mbassi and the only Son of Dr Fredric Mbassi the Chief
Investment / Contract Assessment Unit for the past 28 years during his service in the African Development Bank (A.D.B.)sited here in Abidjan Cote D'Ivoire before his assassination by the Rebels during the 19th September Coup D'etat.
During his service, he made it know to me that some amount of money was arose after the assessment...

Actually, most rap wars use words, too. Not guns. Sorry.

I am way behind on everything I do. But I did want to thank Amanda for pointing out to me the wave of Amazon stories last week. It seems that the Canadian Amazon.com accidentally revealed last week who some of the "anonymous" reviewers were of various books on Amazon. It turned out that some of the people calling themselves, say, "A REVIEWER from St. Ignatius, OK" were friends of the writers, the writers themselves, or what have you. (Not necessarily a big surprise, though, considering that anyone can be anonymous on there.) Here's a USA Today summary of the news. The ULA (Underground Literary Alliance), one of the players in the ongoing literary snark wars (over who should and shouldn't be getting published, and who gets a literary free ride when they shouldn't, etc.), has an interesting response. I keep wanting to write about all the literary factions that are out there (this is like rap wars except with words rather than guns), but I haven't had a chance. Someday I'll write more, maybe.

READING of my new novel on Friday, March 5. It's at a great used bookstore on Washington Street (the main drag) in Hoboken, five blocks from the PATH station (convenient for Manhattanites). I'll read, make a few bad jokes, sign books...and there should be a little bit of wine and cheese to enjoy. It's Friday, March 5, 7:30 p.m. at the Symposia Book Store, Fifth and Washington Streets. Directions to follow closer to the event, or you can e-mail me if you want to know more. It's also easy to get to from the Port Authority bus terminal. The store is next door to East L.A. restaurant with 50 flavors of margaritas, by the way. Mmm.

Matt writes: "Do you think the book store will mind if we bring in margaritas from next door?"

Just finished another screenplay revision at 3 a.m. I'm subjecting myself to the Rick Dees countdown now. I'm quite fond of the Maroon5 song.

Got to go to a great anti-Valentine's Day party due to the magnanimity of a kind patron. Now I must go to sleep. I have much to do tomorrow...I mean, today.

Amanda writes: "When can we expect you to come read in Minnesota? Reply ASAP, I'm standing by with my calendar."

Oops, almost forgot -- happy Valentine's Day to you all!

And happy b-day to the people I know who are having b-days this week...including R.R., J.W., and The Anonymous Blogger.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Busy day.

If you need cheering up on V-Day, this might do it, or it might not: the Quirkyalone web site. Howmever, I get the feeling there are a lot more girls than guys on it.

I keep meaning to mention that trivia regular Tony Hightower has been recording a song a week. He also has a blog.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Just found a neat site: www.lousydog.com. It's good to finally read a dog's views on George Bush.

Dave writes: "What would help TAB, Sally, and the rest of us is to stop thinking about what we want, and start trying to focus on what we can offer others. People respond to what they need, not what you need.
I know that's super corny, but it helps blur some of the edges of having to define relationships, its about being comfortable with ourselves, and it's kind of attractive to boot."

Why do customer service voicemail systems ask you to punch in your ID number and then, when the person gets on the line, they ask you again?

Here's more on the Nanny Diaries authors, if interested. I didn't realize they might actually have to give back all the money.

The Valentine's entry

I try not to write about dating too much in these entries. It would cause me different kinds of problems. However, in honor of V-Day, I will tell a story here; a fable if you will - maybe it happened to someone I know, or me, or maybe....it's a conglomeration of two or three stories. But here it is.

Once there was a girl called Sally (names are made up). Sally met lots of different people in lots of different situations. After many years, she met a person who she thought was great. Sammy was kind, funny, had some common interests with her, and had some different interests that she'd really like to learn about and found interesting. His mannerisms were very endearing to her, too, even though some people might not 'get' them. He surprised her sometimes with the things he said or did, but in a good way. She had pretty much given up finding someone she liked so much and wanted to spend so much time with. And there he was. She thought about him a lot. In fact, she couldn't stop. He seemed interested in her, too, on the first few dates. Then he became impossible to reach, to get a few words out of. He just wasn't that interested in her, as it turned out, and she had to move on. He was kind about it, but he just wasn't interested enough.

Friends said, "Stop talking about him." They said, "If he doesn't like you, then he's a jerk." She knew they were trying to make her feel better. He wasn't a jerk. He just didn't like her, or at least, feel whatever she was feeling.

She'd been on the other end of it plenty of times, and was adult enough to know that sometimes for whatever reason, even if it seemed technically like it should work out, it just didn't. Being on the other side could be frustrating too, meeting someone great and not having any initial interest in being more than their friend. It was sometimes hard to know why, but they didn't have the right mix of whatever. Hurting someone, or letting them down easy, or telling them you just want to be friends for now to see what might develop, was no more fun than being let down. And the longer you were out there dating, the more you had to do one or the other.

Still, she couldn't stop thinking about Sammy, couldn't stop asking herself what she should have done differently. "Move on," friends said. "You're not really supposed to like someone that much, anyway. Love is a myth. It's something in Hollywood. Stop being picky. You must have really strict standards or something. I know of a few guys who like you. Date them."

There WERE some guys who liked Sally, so she decided her friends were right. Her feelings were silly, weren't they? Wasn't it nice when people were nice to her? And she deserved to be treated nicely. Why not just hang out with other people? Feelings didn't have to be mutual. Love was a myth. Her friends told her so.

So she tried. She spent more time with people who liked her a lot, which is always good to try to do anyway. She went on third and fourth dates with them. It is important to spend time with people who really like you; it helps give them a chance to really know you. But as much as she tried, she didn't feel 1/100th of the way she felt when she was with Sammy.

One day she asked herself a question.

Was anyone saying the following to Sammy?:

"Sammy, you're not really supposed to like someone that much. Love is a myth. It's something in Hollywood. Stop being picky. I know that Sally really really likes you. Date her."

She couldn't imagine it!

Did people say things like that to men? Or just women?

Then she realized that of course she should give people a chance, but that she had the right to have strong feelings for someone she was dating. She had the same right that Sammy had. She liked Sammy for valid reasons, not superficial ones. Besides, no one, it seemed, was telling men to date women they weren't attracted to just because the women liked them. Maybe Sammy should have been told to take more time with Sally, too.

Moral of the story: It's tough to be on either side of unrequited affection. It really is. And you SHOULD take your time with people. How many times have you gone on to have feelings for someone only after getting to know them well? It happens. But you still do have a right to feel something for someone, in the end. Feelings ARE valid whether you're male or female. And they're also valid whether love is requited or not. You should never tell anyone else that their feelings aren't valid (this is a theme in Starting from Square Two, by the way - not to be self referential about it. But it is. Hey, this is my blog. I can promote my new book.)

People have told me that dating is supposed to be fun. It's fun if the feelings are mutual, at least a little bit. But when they're mutual, then theoretically, you'd stop dating other people. So the end result of dating is not to date anymore.

These are the possiblities of a date:

1. Someone likes you. You like them. You see each other more to find out if there's anything there. May result in friendship or more dating each other, or a relationship.
2. Mutual disinterest. Okay, easy enough.
3. One-sided interest. This is hard because someone has to get hurt or do the hurting. Unless it's only tepid interest and doesn't really matter.

I don't think dating is easy. That's why women are writing all of these books about it (cha -ching!$$) Ha ha. Seriously, maybe it's not as horrible as I made it sound.

It's nice when you can get to know someone in a non-pressure environment like school or work, outside of it having to be a "date" where you feel like you have to make a faster judgment. But once that time in your life ends, it gets harder.

There's too much pressure to have to find someone by a certain age, or a certain date. It'll happen when it happens. Which is not to say that you shouldn't put yourself out there - sometimes you have to do humiliating things to meet new people.

That's enough. Valentine's Day celebrates love, something that in one way or another all of us have, and as the dude says in Adaptation, loving someone or something is as important as being loved (but it is sometimes more heart-wrenching.) My main point in writing this is that for both men and women, your feelings are valid. You should broaden your horizons and look beyond the surface, too. Don't give up on anyone, or any method.

Revel in the fact that you can have these feelings, whether returned or not -- don't feel you have to deny them.

Have a GREAT Valentine's Day!!

(And PS, one of the dangers is having people who read this think that the stories are about them. If you are reading this and you think YOU are Sammy - Sammy is vague. Maybe you've been in a Sammy-like situation, maybe not. It shouldn't change the points of the story.)

My homepage and e-mail: www.carenlissner.com

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

This morning, Scott Shannon was on the radio interviewing Rick Springfield. It was just like I was 12 years old again. In the early '80s, I actually was annoyed by "Jesse's Girl." It was only years later that I came to realize that Rick Springfield actually was playing plain old rock music. It wasn't derivative; it wasn't any other genre -- it was simply guitar-based rock. And there are songs like "Celebrate Youth" and "Don't Walk Away" that weren't the biggest hits, but are great songs.

On to more important matters: The old syndrome of men being angry when women make the choices that they make all the time. The Anonymous Blogger writes that the only thing keeping women single is themselves. He forgets that men like him reject women every day: It's called "not asking them out in the first place." TAB went to a party and saw that the women were either "taken or unattractive, or both." That was him rejecting them.

Which leads to me to the fact that I will post my Valentine's Day entry shortly.

Trivia was packed tonight. One of the difficulties in being a trivia co-host -- or for that matter, doing anything where you're the center of attention -- is figuring out how to delicately handle groups of people without being rude. When someone's heckling of my co-host seems to go over the line of wiseassedeness into trying to hurt feelings, do I shut that person up and risk alienating someone who's come out to enjoy trivia? (Further complicating matters is that when I used to play, rather than co-host, one or two of my teammates used to heckle the triv co-hosts all the time when they found a round really annoying, so I know what it's like to be on the pissed-off side of things.) And then there's the matter of having friends come to say hi to me and trying to talk to a few people at once without being rude. Ah well. I'm just glad I get to do it and meet so many nice people.

I guess The Anonymous Blogger didn't like my little joke. (It was just a joke!) It was worth it.

We had a health insurance meeting at work today. I was waiting for someone to ask something dumb so I could follow up by asking if lobotomies are covered, but I didn't.

Mickey writes: "Homosexuality is a choice for some and genetic for others. Is that so hard to understand? I once saw a young boy crossing the street and knew at that moment that he was going to be gay when he got older. It was his entire body language. He had no choice.
On the other hand I once knew a guy who was a real manly man who had any women he wanted. They were putty in his hands. One day he just went gay! He decided that he had eaten all of the tang that he wanted and then wanted something else out of a desire for variety.
Choice for some and genetics for others! End of story!

This court hearing is adjourned.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

I can understand why The Anonymous Blogger might feel that homosexuality is a choice (as he writes today)...every time he meets a woman, she then 'chooses' to be gay!

Hahahahhaha. Sorry, I couldn't resist.

As for the thing about it not being genetic because homosexuals don't have homosexual parents...there are lots of things that are in one's genes (not jeans) that aren't obvious in one's predecessors. Look at the diseases people get that are gene-related but there is no obvious link to parentage. But why am I responding to this? I have work to do. Remember the penguins, though!

It's hard having to learn Pac-Man all over again. I finally just got to Act I, but this version doesn't have it. Bummer!

In case the inner workings of the publishing industry interest you...the women who wrote the Nanny Diaries submitted the first 18 pages of their followup book (not a sequel) to Random House in 2002 and got paid a whopping $3 million. But both of their revisions have apparently been rejected. It sounds suspiciously like chick-lit...

Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

Watch for my Valentine's Day entry some time Wednesday. (No, it won't be about my personal life, but it should be interesting.)

Here's a link so you can play Pac-Man right on your screen. Eat 'em all up!

Oh, half done with latest screenplay revision. I can do the rest next weekend. Then print it out and make more changes.

By the way, the On*Star commercial that spurred that entry was one where a woman accidentally dropped her car keys down the toilet and was crying about it. It was depressing. Of course, the problem was solved by On*Star, but I don't want to hear about it. If I want to be depressed, I can read the news.

Listening to the On*Star commercials is too upsetting. They make me anxious and depressed. I don't like listening to people in crises crying in their cars. I had enough highway crises when I was nearly broke and I prefer not to return to that period in my life.

By the way, in used cars owned by, at various times, my mom and me, we:

>Ran out of gas on the approach to the GW Bridge (NY side) and then got hit by a passing car;
>Found that we couldn't actually open the hood of a used car we'd just bought to put oil in it; had to sit at a gas station for over an hour while various people tried different methods to get it open;
>Bought a used car that would run fine after it got started, but couldn't actually start without a jump start. The guy had it running when he sold it to us, so we didn't know there was a problem. We found his used Bible in the back. What a great guy to read the Bible but sell us a car with a &*$%@ alternator that didn't work WITHOUT telling us. Hypocritical jerk.
>Had a car that wouldn't run in the rain. If it was running and it started raining out, it would stall the minute the brake was tapped.
>Various overheating incidents/water pump problems
>Had a car that wouldn't start and it needed a new selenoid (I'm spelling that wrong; I'll fix it later.)
>Had a car that would accelerate without pressing the gas. (Actually, that was kind of fun. My mom said that something just needed to be tightened, but I thought it was cool so I left it.)

Maybe it served us right because all of these cars cost between $350 and $800. But the owners should have told us about the problems when they sold them to us.

A previous lurker writes: Journal of Animal Sexuality (Vol. 17, No. 3) states that "some penguins do it to antagonize straight penguins; others do it from self-hate; and yet others are masochists." You weren't trying to infer the possibility of a genetic reason, were you?

I'm using my friends' critiques to revise my screenplay. (One of my two screenplays, that is). Why, you ask, would I spend all of Saturday night working on this? Because I've been working on this thing since before 2001 and there's a time to (cliche warning) fish or cut bait. I just got a new round of critiques from friends, and I don't want the thing to linger forever. Besides, someone else might write the same thing.

The other reason to get it done now is that in the summer, nothing happens in publishing or film. Next to nothing, anyway. People are on vacation and can't get in the same room together to make important decisions. So if I wait until late May to send this out, I might as well wait until September. Thus, I'd rather do it sooner than that.

Of course, if I decide this isn't worth showing anyone, I might not do it at all. But I do think it has some value. The best I can do is listen to the advice people give me about it and keep working on it.

The poor baby with the two heads passed away. The news item about her other mouth moving when she was breast-fed was very sad. Condolences to the parents (well, obviously they don't read this, but.)

It took me a while to put all of today's news-elements together. I know why the two dogs in the Bronx started fighting after the puppy came into the picture. As is usually the case, it was a homosexual love triangle.

The cover of today's Times Arts & Ideas section is: "Love that Dare Not Squeak Its Name: Homosexuality Among Animals is Common." It's got a whole thing about homosexual penguins. Why would penguins choose such a difficult lifestyle?

Someone found my blog by putting the following into Ask.com: "How did the Olsen twins get into NYU?"

Oh, and I ate one and a half black-and-white cookies. Cold weather = too much noshing.

I just revised pages 1-85 of Book 3. I feel like I've had a satisfying workout. The reader will still be getting to know the main character in most of those pages, but I feel like I've shaded him in better. I'm getting to know him better each time I work on this, too.

I was really planning to be working exclusively on part 2 by this time (which is pages 200-350), but being sure of the first 50 pages of the book makes the rest come easy. And sometimes I learn things toward the end that could be better if planted in the first 100. But I feel like 1-100 are in pretty good shape now. I can't promise I won't return to them, though, because I know I will. Much of this journal in the summer and early fall has to do with frustrations over the first 15 pages. So if it took months and months (and a trip up to Vermont to think about it) to figure out what to do, then it's no surprise I've spent this much time on 1-200 as a whole.

Recently, I wrote to my agent, "When I was an unpublished writer, I used to throw a lot of poop at the wall to see what would stick. Now that I know you, I don't want to throw poop at you."

What I really thought through most of my twenties was that once you get an agent, suddenly they think you're a genius and they want to read all that stuff under your bed and in boxes, and they will get all of it published for you. Of course, that's not what happens. Crap is still crap. Or, more accurately, a learning experience. But not necessarily publishable. Most of the junk I wrote is still junk, and some of it is decent stuff that may see life in some other form, some other day when there's world and time. Even the most famous writers still have plenty of stuff no one will ever want to read. I wouldn't mind seeing J.D. Salinger's notebook scribblings, but Salingers are few and (cliche warning) far between.

Update: The family had a pit bull, a boxer, and a new German shepherd puppy. They say the puppy didn't appear to be involved. Hmmm. If this were a Disney cartoon, you'd know the sweet little puppy egged the other two on and then acted all innocent.

Woke up, put clothes on, didn't go to work.

I did heat up my skim milk and my black-and-white cookie to revise Book 3 for the umpteenth time.

On the news, they just said a 3.5-year-old girl and her sister were attacked by the family dogs in the Bronx on Sunday. I'm not one for "profiling," but what do you think the chances are that the dog was a:

a) Beagle
b) Bichon frise
c) "Pit-bull mix" ?

Okay, send it if you want, but don't call me.

I'm now caught up on my e-mail. Don't send me any.

So you're reading this. Is it warm where you are? Is your seat comfortable?

Damn lucky you're not outside, isn't it?

Let's all appreciate the little things. Like the heat you feel right now. Mmm.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

The mad search for REDBIRD IN THE AIR, a poster by John Blackford

There's a beautiful poster on the NYC subways of a young boy fantasizing that he and his teddybear are being led through the sky by a speeding #6 Redbird subway train. I saw it six months ago, loved it, websearched it, found nothing, but then I found it on the MTA site and bought one. Soon after that, the MTA put a note on their site saying they were sold out. Apparently other people noticed it and loved it, too. It's so whimsical, the perfect rendition of childhood dreams. Now there is apparently a two-month wait for the poster! Meanwhile, one out of every seven websearches that links people to my blog comes because they are looking for info on that very poster and artist and there's still very little on the web.

I got this e-mail from someone today! Only in New Yawk...

>>"Hello: Need any golf balls? Actually I've been googling my brains out trying to find the MTA poster of the Redbird (that you... harumphh... purchased and received from the MTA in the mail) I have been to all the outlets and I am on a waiting list ( 2 months now) on their website for one. I can't find one anywhere. I can't find the artist, I can't find diddly. I want to buy a copy of that poster! I must have a copy of that poster! HELP ME! Could you please?
P.S. I promise to get up to speed on your blog and will even contemplate buying your book and spreading the gospel of your awesome talents should you be so inclined as to help my wanting soul... "

I don't imagine substitutes will tide him over.

Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

See a few paragraphs down for the John Blackford poster entry.

The Anonymous Blogger has caused a bit of a stir on another blog.

Other interesting reading today: Dawn's humorous entry on lessons she's learned, and Ian W.'s greatest hits (weather suicide is a favorite). Since, according to him, we're only capable of doing three hours of work in an eight-hour day (something that's also mentioned in my first novel), spend the rest reading this stuff. (NOTE: This is meant in humor and should not apply to any of my writers. Thank you. Lunch is over; back to work.)

I don't know about you, but I'm ready for another snowstorm. Bring it on! Bring it on!

Maybe Friday.

Someone at work said Justin Timberlake found the weapons of mass destruction.

A friend was slightly miffed at my comment from earlier that at least one of my friends would not date a Republican: "do you realize and/or care that you (or your friends) are being openly prejudiced against someone based on their vague political beliefs? (ie., wouldn't date a republican) I don't think the view is unusual, mind you."

I responded "Well, it was modified by that person to 'depending on why.' I would say that 'dealbreakers' are things that end up melting as we get older, which is why I made the comment that when you make lists of requirements, you end up falling for people who often don't meet them, and pretty soon you are wise enough to let a lot of them go. But there are still some vague ones you might want to stick by. People who say they won't date Republicans usually have certain worldviews that are essential to their personality, and they figure a Republican would be against the very things that make them who they are; I might change my dealbreaker to 'someone who is unkind to other people - the homeless, disabled, or whoever.' So if they're a Republican because they feel that more laissez faire policies are better for the country and in the end help everyone, then God bless 'em; maybe they know more than I do. I would ask them to tell me why so I can understand them better; hell, if they're right and I'm wrong, then I'll become a Republican if it makes sense. (But as you know, I'm probably too much of a bleeding-heart to follow any policy that is hurtful to certain groups.) Finally, note that "date" is not the same as "be friends with." You might have deal-breakers for people you would date that are different from ones for friends or people to hang out with.

He responded: "I'm friends with communists, liberals and republicans, and I think it's really sick to equate someone's politics with their person. yes, one can make generalizations but I honestly feel that people should get a chance. (and that was what it seemed like you were saying). I think you should make that clear vis a vis the republican issue, because I think it's very legitimate to say "a person is cruel, etc." is a deal-breaker, but (just like you said) a sweet wonderful person can honestly think the GOP is better. or think the democrats are better. I don't think people realize (and I am not accusing you) how accepted it is in certain circles to discriminate and stereotype "republicans" as evil, stupid, etc."

Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

It's well known that Brian Wilson used the music to "When You Wish Upon A Star" as the inspiration for "Little Surfer Girl." But did they rip off Brian Wilson for the first seven notes of the "Jeopardy!" theme?

The Guardian of London writes about how when authors become reclusive, it adds to their mystique, and it mentions a writer who recently started refusing to do interviews.

This is a good idea. Let it be known that I will not do any publicity for my next novel, and in order to make everyone aware of this, I will be sending out a press release to major newspapers across the country...in addition, I will hold press conferences over the next month in each of the 50 states and Texas. Books will be available at each "reclusivity press conference" for signing and a $12.95 fee. For more information, please contact my publicists. To purchase or read more about Starting from Square Two by highly reclusive author Caren Lissner, please delicately click here.

Woke up, put clothes on, didn't go to work. I took off today in advance. There are two holidays today. Groundhog Day and Day After Super Bowl. Really, winter is prime writing time so I wanted to catch up. But it's 4 p.m. and instead of writing, I've been running errands and making calls.

If only these scripts and the novel didn't need so much more work. But they do. It goes like this: write, hack out, add, write write write, hack hack, add add add, switch, write, hack, add, etc. etc.

In this world of escalating prices, it's nice sometimes to sit back and think about the things that have remained really cheap. Today I finally had the chance to return delinquent books to the library. I also owed for some books from last time. You know what it cost? $1.10. That's it.

I get so busy that I'm even adding my quotes of the week last-minute. You'd think it would be simple.

This entry will sound either self-promotional or self-centered; I'm not sure which. However, if you read someone's personal blog, you can't really complain when they write about themselves or their interests. I mean, that's just dopey. So here it is: As of right now, there are 119 mentions of Starting from Square Two on Google. I will report in a month how many there are the day it comes out (March 1).

You have to love a cartoonist who sends out group e-mails that start with the words, "Hello Fan Base."

Well, I'm glad the Patriots won. They deserved to after that great season. I won't change my prediction below because it wasn't such a terrible one. I'll get better with each season, yes indeedy.

Happy Sunday to y'all. My prediction: Patriots 24, Panthers 10. This is based on very little. And if I'm wrong, I'm simply going to alter it later, because I CAN.