The Short Answer

If I seem a little groggy today it's because I'm recovering from a seriously social (read: alcohol laden) weekend. Friday, I saw an old friend from Austin and we drank our weight in wine and then pretty much bought one of everything on Michigan Avenue. I suspect I'll need a glass of wine in my hand when I open my next Mastercard bill. But isn't that the fun of credit cards? Buy now, worry later!

Saturday, I celebrated Miss Jane Ricordati's birthday in grand style - we all went out to eat and then went bowling. I was the only one of the group who perfected the "fall on your ass" technique for rolling a spare. Yes, I really did fall on my butt. My ball was too heavy for me, and apparently I wasn't clear on the "let the ball go" concept, and it sort of took me a few steps into the lane, where it's pretty damn slick, and I just - BOOM! - fell. This is what happens when you BUI (Bowl Under the Influence).

Hmmmm. I've mentioned alcohol now three times. Maybe I do have a problem?

Ahem. Moving on. It's time for the fan mail! My favorite part of blogging.

So Shannon from Mass. wrote, "I loved your short story from 'In One Year and Out the Other', can we expect to see some of the work that has been keeping you so busy in a collection like that again! As you can tell I am desperately awaiting some new reading material from you!"

First, God bless you, Shannon, for writing. Like all insecure writers, my fragile ego depends on praise. So thank you! Second, yes, you can expect some more short stories - tons, in fact!

I'll be in a few anthologies over the next couple of years. I've finished a nonfiction essay for "It's a Wonderful Lie: The Truth About Being In Your Twenties" which will hopefully be out later this year. My essay is about credit card debt - which (see above) I'm still struggling with obviously.

And, there's going to be a fiction anthology out next year called "This IS Chick Lit," which will be a soft rebuttal to the anthology "This Is Not Chick Lit" whose authors don't like the "chick lit" label. Personally, I don't care what anybody calls my work, as long as they buy it and enjoy it! And let's be honest, any time women like a book, it seems like we always find a way to degrade it somehow. We call it silly, or vapid, or lacking in substance. This has been going on since Jane Austen's time and before. I say, read what you like, and who cares what the New York Times says about it?

There are a couple of other possible anthologies in the works, and I'll let you know about those as I know about them. And I'll definitely let you know publication dates , which even I don't know yet!