fashionista_35

A year ago today, I took my first ballroom dance lesson.

A few weeks ago, I competed in my fourth competition and did pretty well. (Okay, REALLY well.)

Today was just another day-- I had a lesson and I hurt like the dickens. But soooo worth it.

Seattle Winter Dance Fest, January 28th.

Yeah, yeah, I'm posting another blog. I can see you gaping from here. But this is important. Even more important than breaking down who wore what to the Oscars or the Golden Globes or shilling a new release.

I'll wait for you to pick yourselves up off the floor.

We good now? Okay.

So, I've had this thing that I've done, ever since I sold my first book (going on *gasp* seven years ago, now) and that's find a charitable cause to which to contribute. It's not something I tend to make a big deal of because like religion, politics, & birth control, I find it a sort of private matter (sorry Rush, you lard-assed windbag, no videos for you).

Some years, it's been a big thing—remember my RITA gown from 2007? The Maggie Gyllenhaal Oscar gown?



As some of you know, I won that in a Clothes Off Our Backs (now sadly defunct) charity auction, with the thought that I might one day, if I was really, really lucky, be able to wear it to a RITA ceremony, you know, if I ever finaled. Little did I know it would be that year and it wound up being my lucky gown, since I, you know, won. *pauses to preen just wee bit*

Most years, though, it's been little things—small donations to multiple organizations, usually to theatre groups like Red Dog Squadron a not-for-profit theatre company or my own local Seattle Theatre Group or, of course, supporting museums, like Seattle Art Museum or the Experience Music Project Museum (look, I live in Seattle- how can I not?).

Thing is, while donating to these causes are, indeed, charitable, they're generally also to my benefit—having a beautiful gown to wear, having theatre and museums to attend with the rugrats—let's face it, I definitely get a pretty good deal out of it.

But now, things is a little different, children...

(And this is where we come to the Power of Social Media portion of our program.)

I've mentioned lately that I've been hanging more on Twitter than blogging, mostly because I've been so buried in the writing that my attention span away from it tends to be better suited for short bursts of, oh, 140 characters or so. Actually, it's been beneficial from other standpoints as well. With Twitter, I've been able to expand the scope of the creative folks I come in contact with, from artists (@loveandcapes) to musicians (@janicewhaley) to actors (@chris_gorham) to writers of many, many stripes, across varying genres and media (Mediums? Media. Whatever). It stimulates my own creative juices (which sounds vaguely naughty) and stokes the excitement I feel for my own work in addition to helping the plot bunnies procreate. Hey, I never said I was completely altruistic—I'm completely open about what I get out of this.

I'm rambling, I know. Okay, I'll get on with it. One of the actors I follow, Timothy Omundson (@Omundson) from Psych happened to mention he was guesting on the Pop My Culture podcast (@pmcpodcast).

(Hilarious podcast, highly recommended, but if you have kiddies, I suggest listening to it after dark or with headphones, lest the little darlings overhear. Five minutes of PMC and they'll wind up sounding like extras from Deadwood. You've been warned.)

Anyhow, Tim also happened to mention that oh, by the way, Vanessa Ragland (@vanessaragland), one of the hosts, has got a charity thing going on. Goes to show how buried I've been, lately, since I follow both the podcast and Vanessa on Twitter and this had somehow slipped past. *shamefaced*

End result is, I checked it out and this is where I get serious, folks—it's a big deal. Vanessa is in the running for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Woman of the Year

And this is why:



Guys, you know me—inveterate smartass, can make a joke about anything, but you know, cancer is no joking matter to me. It's an insidious motherfucker that has messed with my own family and has hurt way, way too many people who I love, taking their loved ones from them, far too soon. It even permeated my professional life in that I wrote Breathe, the manuscript nearest and dearest to my heart, in part to express those feelings of helplessness and loss that cancer can generate. It remains my biggest professional regret that it never found a publishing home; too many publishers scared off by the cancer-centric storyline. Too dark, too real, too... scary.

Too bad. Cancer is scary. It's dark and it's real and it can strike anyone, including little girls and their daddies. So yeah, I donated, immediately, to Vanessa's cause. And now I'm asking you, my awesome friends, to help out. If not by donating, because God knows, I know times are hard across the board, then by at least spreading the word, via your blogs, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, Tumblr, Pinterest, whatever floats your boat. You wanna rent a plane and fly a banner over South Beach, go for it (although I think the money would be better spent on a direct donation).

Vanessa has until April 25th to raise lots and lots of money and even if she doesn't win, which, of course, we want her to, she'll win, because she'll have raised lots and lots of money. You see where I'm going with this, y'all?

She also has another secondary, equally important, reason to raise lots of money: her dad. It's a tragedy, really—Vanessa's dad, Larry Ragland, for reasons unknown, decided to grow his hair. It's apparently quite scary. Don't believe me? Watch:



So there you have it. If Vanessa can raise $5K by the end of the campaign, then Dear Old Dad will have to part with his ponytail. If you don't do it for the children, then do it for Larry.

Donate. Or pass the word.

Please.

Love you all.

LATE BREAKING ANNOUNCEMENT!

This week only, FightCancer with CHARACTER(s). if you donate $50.00 or more to the Leukemia Lymphoma Society ROB PAULSEN ( Or Yakko! Or Pinky! Or Raphael!) will record a personalized outgoing message for your phone!

After my last thinky-thoughts, navel-gazing post, we're back to the frivolity and snark of fashion. I'm nowhere near as good as the Fug Girls, but I do my part. Like the Golden Globes, I was left more or less underwhelmed by the fashions—only a couple of gowns really stood out with one in particular and those of you who know me, will know well which one, that gave me the feeling of OMG WANT.

Okay, first things first: I know the Muppets are back in this year, but would designers please, please, please stop sacrificing their pelts? Nancy O'Dell and Viola Davis, come on down!



Like Paula Patton, Nancy felt the need to channel Big Bird while Viola... Dang, Viola, I really wanted to love on you and your gown. And I know a lot of people really seemed to, but... I just couldn't get into it. First off the green was just so... Kermit-like. The satin was almost too too heavy and smooth (kind of rendering it with a pleather-like appearance) and the embellishments seemed as if they'd been applied with the leaf tip of a pastry bag. Besides, those of you who've been around these parts know how I feel about doing that to The Girls. They just didn't look comfortable.

Channeling Elmo was Emma Stone. Actually, scratch that—while the color was quite Elmo-esque, most of my Twitter feed hit the nail on the head when they said she was auditioning for a role as a Lexus. Can't say I disagree—I'm not a fan of bows in general and this abomination was just... well. Girl wore it with confidence at least.



As for the actual Muppet fashionista in the audience? Miss Piggy looked quite fetching in a custom Zac Posen with Fred Leighton jewelry. Girl's been doing this a long time and it showed.
(Seriously ladies, when the Muppet outdoes most of you on the red carpet, it's time to consider firing your stylist.)



( But it went beyond the Muppets... )

Okay, into the home stretch.

A tale of How-To with respect to dressing the Big Girls.

Octavia did it right (and oh man, how charming and adorable was she?), Melissa McCarthy... did not. Admittedly, they're both not built quite the same but Tadashi Shoji, who dressed Octavia, accentuated her positives (if you'll forgive the pun) while whoever put Melissa in that mauve disaster needs to be taken out back and shot. She's so pretty! She didn't deserve to look like that.



Meryl.

It's Meryl. She's been wearing variations on a theme of the bathrobe look for years. Who fucking cares? She's Meryl. It's gold lamé, it's a shapeless bathrobe, but she is Meryl. Do we really think she gives a shit?



This is likely to be my controversial choice, with people falling on the side of either love it or hate it, but holy cats, I love Judy Greer's gown. Sleek, simple, sexy, and her hair provided such a fabulous contrast. It needed to be hemmed, but beyond that, loved it.



And my winner (like this will come as any surprise) Penelope Cruz. Oh my stars and garters, y'all, how stunningly gorgeous was this gown and her in it? Armani Privé, custom made for her and it showed. A beautiful cross between periwinkle and lavender, fitted exquisitely, the hair, jewels, and makeup were gorgeous—the entire look just pure Old Hollywood perfection. I would so seriously mug her for this gown.



And finally... I said it on Twitter last night, but it bears repeating: I solemnly promise to y'all that if any of my books ever get made into a film that lands me on the red carpet of an awards show, I will a) work with a professional hair and makeup person b) wear proper foundation undergarments and c) for the love of all that's good and holy, I will make sure I wear a gown that friggin' fits.

Oh, and I'll stand up straight.

I give you, Kaui Hart Hemmings, author of The Descendants. Girl, please...

I've been saying since the New Year that 2012 is my Year of Not Giving a Shit. What it has also become is the year of looking inward, especially since this year has really become a year of not just honing my craft (an ever-ongoing process) but expanding on it, dipping my toes into new styles of writing, new genres, new... everything in many ways. But in the long run, it's still writing.

Which makes me consider my identity as a writer. I've always chafed at being thought of as solely a young adult writer. I used to think it was because I had originally set out to write quote/unquote adult books. But that's not it—because I chafed equally hard at being thought of solely as a Latina writer. Let me be perfectly clear—there is nothing wrong with either of those identities. I am a Latina writer; I am a young adult writer but they are not the sum total of who I am. It's the one commonality those two identities share, that truly matters to me: that of writer. And what I absolutely own as a writer—what ultimately defines my identity—isn't genre or style or the name by which I'm known, but two things that no one can take away from me and that only I can control: my voice and my craft.

The rest of it? It's bullshit, really.

Whatever genre I explore, whatever style of writing I take on, hell, even whatever name I write under, should that change, it really all pales in light of continuing to develop my voice and hone my craft. And let me repeat: those rare things that a writer can actually control and that no one else can take away from them. Ever.

*insert not-so-shocked gasp*

After years spent being battered by the industry and fighting crap I cannot control (not to mention crap I really shouldn't have had to deal with), I'm a big fan of controlling what I can which falls directly in line with the quote I stumbled across that has become my mantra for 2012:

When those lucky moments appear, I believe I have the talent to back it up. Whether or not you get the opportunity is luck. My job is to do everything I possibly can, as often as I can, to ready myself for whenever luck comes.

Luck isn't luck if you're not ready for it.

Nice, huh? And it also conveniently ties back into what I said above: All the rest? It's bullshit, really. Look, truth of the matter is, your time and energy are much better spent on those things you can control. The writing. Voice and Craft. And trust me, even those of us who have been at this gig for a good long while need reminding of this from time to time. We're most of us vulnerable to being sucked under by the energy demons that take us away from what really matters, which is the writing. Listen closely, for Auntie Barb knows from whence she speaks here, children, having lost well more than a year to a series of insidious energy demons that crept into the gray matter and very nearly killed the writing. And God knows, I'm experienced enough and should have known better, but shit, as they say, happens. Sometimes it's slow and creeps up on you until you're floundering, completely unaware of how it happened, and sometimes it just takes you out at the knees and you're scrabbling, trying to fight your way upright. Sometimes, it happens simultaneously which sucks like a Dyson on crack. Regardless, it's horrifying and leaves you lost and wondering who you are and why in hell you're doing this if this is your reward for all of the endless hours of blood, sweat, tears, and the rest of the ongoing neuroses that come with being a writer.

Hey, no one promised it would be easy, right? And we know the rest, if it was easy, everyone would do it, blah, blah, fishcakes.

Bottom line is, now that I'm out from under said energy demon, what's clear is that the writing is that much more important and precious to me. Because it's what I am. I'm that person who can't think of anything else they'd rather do. Who wakes up and faces the keyboard or notebook, because it's what I do. If I never get published again (God forbid) I'm still always going to be a writer and I'll be damned if I let anyone or anything take that from me.

Maybe it makes me an idealist, maybe it makes me a purist, maybe those of you who read this will point and mock quietly or not so quietly. That's cool. I'm good with it. Because I know what I am.

Regardless of genre or designation or name, I'm a writer. And anyone who doesn't like it, can suck it.

Hello, darlings-- no I'm not dead. Just been hanging more on FB and Twitter these days because I seem to only think in short bursts. Which sounds vaguely dirty, but that's neither here nor there. Awards season has started and as such, I will be venturing back into long form for my usual fashion round-ups.

Now, I know there are probably several of you who are new, maybe coming over here from Twitter or FB and you're probably wondering what sort of credentials I have for offering a fashion round-up. Well, none, really. Other than I have a lifelong love of fashion and actually, did grow up around the industry, with my mother, in her day, serving as a production pattern maker for several high end sportswear and evening wear designers (if you ever watch pageants, you've definitely seen stuff she worked on-- even now. Those patterns last forever.). She's also quite an accomplished seamstress in her own right, making various gowns and dresses for me throughout my life, including the Edwardian-styled creation that was my wedding gown.


Twenty yards of silk taffeta, point d'Alençon lace, and over 10K pearls, y'all-- the woman may drive me nuts, but that's love, you know? Also, I have no idea who let me get married that young.

Needless to say, I still love fashion and adore dressing in red carpet style when the occasion demands (sweats the rest of the time, for I am nothing if not practical), and when awards season rolls around, watch avidly to see who's wearing what and who pissed off their stylist. Seriously, you'd think Sarah Jessica and J-Lo would learn, right?

Anyhow-- the Golden Globes.

*disclaimer: all pictures the property of their respective photographers/agencies. No infringement intended, no profit being made.

Huh. Well, dear readers, sad to say, I was seriously underwhelmed with a side of WTF were they thinking? on occasion. I don't even know where to start, exactly, so I guess I'll just dive on in.

First case of WTF, Paula Patton. Girl, I think it's illegal to have skinned Big Bird and wear him as a dress. I'm sure he's on the endangered species list. Seriously, very, very few people can wear that color (and I acknowledge my own bias against it, since I really do dislike yellow) but I think if you're going to wear it, sleek and streamlined is the way to go, not misguided prom gown.



Speaking of misguided. And they presented together. Piper and Sarah Michelle... girls, did you consult with each other ahead of time? I think not.



Okay, Piper. You're a lovely lady with a lithe figure. You also have no curves or chest to speak of. Whoever put you in a gown that has a bodice more commonly found on holiday dresses for toddlers needs to be spanked. Severely. Couple that with the skirt that nearly swallowed poor Peter Dinklage and we have an issue of proportions. Now, Sarah Michelle... sweetie, I actually did want to like your gown. I will admit to applauding the use of the fabric—I thought it was vibrant and different, but as I've said before and will probably say until the end of time, if one aspect of the gown really stands out, in this case, the pattern of the fabric, it's best to keep everything else streamlined. There was just too much going on with the poofy skirt and the peplum. I applaud your hair and jewelry, however. They were simple and worked.

End result, Piper and Sarah Michelle looked like a pair of meringues.

( Moving along, shall we? )

Okay, on to the final stretch. (For a meh year, I was sure a Chatty Kathy, wasn't I?)

Evan Rachel Wood. You know... props to the girl. This was easily the most unique gown on the red carpet and she wore it well. I love the color, don't love the halter on her, love the details and how one embellishment flows into the next, rather than all of them fighting for space on the gown. Overall, I'll call it a win, especially since she kept everything else relatively simple.



Octavia Spencer, girl, I bow down to you. You were beautiful, gracious, and at times, downright adorable. I LOVE that shade of lavender on you, as much as I hate you for being able to wear it when I can't. (Turns me a lovely shade of jaundice.) You used a great fabric, it draped beautifully and your shoulders and décolletage are things of beauty, so props to you for showing them off.



Nicole Richie has come a long way and she has really become one of my style icons of late. She has learned what works for her frame and dresses it flawlessly in vintage silhouettes. She's also clearly in tune with the details, well-aware that they contribute to the overall effect. She was a big winner for me last night.



Dame Helen. 'Nuff said. Let's just pause for a moment to admire and pray that we can be that fabulous one day.



I know you're all thinking I've been relatively mild, for me, and that someone has been conspicuously missing thus far. Wait for iiiiiiittttttt...



Sweet zombie jaysus, Jessica, we know you just got engaged and all, but what in hell was up with the Bride of Frankenstein look? Okay, never mind, that's an insult to the Bride of Frankenstein, because she at least brushed her hair. I just... y'all, I can't even cope with this hot mess of lace tablecloth and hot pants. Did no one shine a light on the girl and make certain that we wouldn't be able to see straight to Paradise when she was under the stage lights? And you just know she worked with a stylist who told her she looked, "FAB-ulous, darling!"

Feh. I've got better gowns in my own closet.

So. Who was my winner? Believe it or not, someone wearing a simple, black gown. Because she wore it oh, so very, very well.

Morena Baccarin, it should be illegal to be you.



I would wear this gown in a New York minute and young ladies on the red carpet, take note, this is how you walk and pose: back straight, shoulders back, poised, relaxed, elegant.

(The husband disagrees—he hates the front of the dress. Ah, well. I don't expect everyone or anyone, really, to agree with me.)

And there you have it. What's next? The SAGs? Until then...

Okay, okay, I warned y'all that my brain wasn't good for more than short bursts. And I am sorry for having left this abandoned for so long. A lot's been going on. Maybe I'll post more about that later.

But when I get multiple emails and tweets asking about the fashion roundup, who am I to disappoint?

Let's start with Jane. She did a lovely job hosting, I thought, although not quite as zinger-filled as I might have expected. She wore four looks throughout the night with one standout for me.



My favorite of the four is the third one. I have a particular fondness for that neckline, especially since Jane has killer shoulders. The silver lame I thought was too high-waisted and I hated the halter cut of the last one which actually made her look stoop-shouldered. The red carpet strapless was okay, but nothing that rocked my world. (Actually, it seemed as if the bodice was about an inch too short.)

I have to tell you all, though, this year? The Emmy fashions? Mostly boring. Lotta red. Lotta safe neutral tones. Oddly, quite a bit of green, yet not in any interesting sorts of ways. And the usual offenders? Well, let's just say they hit the mark, as expected.

Like...

Gwyneth.

Oh, Gwynnie, Gwynnie, Gwynnie. Who told you that looked good? The tulle trim on the waistband of the skirt and hem of the top had the unfortunate effect of making it appear as if folds of skin were rippling over. An impossibility to be sure, when all you have is 2.76% body fat and yet... And actually, in motion, the skirt and top were fitted so tightly, the skin of her abdomen actually rippled as she moved. Ick. Sad thing is, this Pucci dress, had it been left in its entirety, would have looked really, really lovely on her. Minimalist cut but with all the gorgeous beadwork and embellishments would have suited her-- she's a blonde who can wear black well, and she can actually pull off the cap sleeves. So close and yet...
*facepalm*




The best thing I can say about Paz de la Huerta is that her eyes are actually open. Seriously, never have I seen anyone in a profile career who regularly looks so spectacularly pissed-off/annoyed about having to appear in public. She hates it so much, she should just skip it. Especially if this is what she pulls out for a good day.



Julianna, darling, you're gorgeous, but acrylic cockroaches are no one's friend. Neither is a wildly structured bodice that conforms to the approximate shape of an Apollo rocket and not the human body.



( Moving on )

Best of moments:

Best Kickin' it Old Skool Hollywood Glamor goes to Evan Rachel Wood. Girl may have a rebellious independent streak a mile wide, but she works the red carpet like no one's business. This, my dears, is how we rock the basic black.



Apologies to Jon Hamm and Jennifer Westfeldt, but this year, your Most Adorable Couple crown has to be passed to John Krasinski and Emily Blunt. They are too darling for words.



Best Moment, scripted or otherwise:



Well played, ladies. Very classy and very well played.

Best Look Overall:



I do wish she'd quit with the accent-shtick, but at the end of the day, it's her accent and she's canny enough to make it work for her. That said, can I look like her when I grow up? Pretty please? Barring that, can I at least have the earrings? Pretty pretty please with sugar and a human sacrifice on top? *whimper*

Best Moment, PERIOD.

Aw, Coach.



Clear eyes.

Full hearts.

Can't lose!

Sorry, the apathy in blogging continues, although shockingly, I have been posting to FB & Twitter more frequently. I guess if it's not about full on creative writing, my mind is only good for short bursts these days.

Anyhow, I do have some updates-- I'm going to NYC next week for no fewer than three events (plus my mother will be flying up to meet me for a couple of days, oy!). So, if you're in the 'hood and interested, I'd love to see you.

In order:

2011 Teen Author Carnival

Monday, May 23, 2011
Time: 4pm-7pm
Admission: FREE!

Location:
Mulberry Street Library
10 Jersey Street
(Between Lafayette & Mulberry Streets)
New York, NY 10012-3332

I'll be on a panel called, Teenage Angst: Getting It Right - The Emotions, The Voice, The Drama and just check out the list of authors who are also part of the panel.

Seriously, y'all. I'm plotzing.

1. David Levithan
2. Susane Colasanti
3. Melissa Walker
4. Kody Keplinger
5. Hannah Moskowitz
6. Gayle Forman
7. Torrey Maldonado


On Thursday I'll be at Book Expo America signing at the Romance Writers of America booth from 9:30-10:00 AM.

And then Friday I'm at the Backspace Conference presenting on a YA panel there.

Saturday I fly home, fall down, go boom.

Please come see meeeeee!

I haven't been blogging as much lately. I don't know-- part of it is I just don't have a lot to say. Okay, well, I have plenty to say, but a lot of it is very cynical and harsh and yanno, I just don't need to fling open the doors of my personal Bitter Barn all that wide.

I will say, though, that I have been writing. New stuff. Different stuff.

I should be working on revising Between Here & Gone, since as Lovely Agent put it, "You wrote two different books." She's not wrong. But after three years of work on that sucker, I just can't stand to look at it right now. Even though I know how I want to change things up. But it would be some massive changing and right now... I just can't. I'd so wanted it to be the book, the one that finally breaks me into adult writing, and instead, it was just a massive pile of bat guano. At least the second half of it was.

And as long as that's how I feel about it, probably best I not work on it, you feel me?

But what I have been working on is fun. And exciting. And I did mention different, right? Right.

One is a YA, one is an adult, both have paranormal elements and no, that wasn't a conscious choice or that I'm trying to write to market or anything. It's just what the lizard brain prodded me to work on. I think it probably figured I was sick to death of contemporary realistic, since it hasn't exactly been doing me any favors lately and frankly, it felt tired, like I was sort of sleepwalking through the process, so it decided I needed something completely out of my usual comfort zone.

Boy howdy, is this out of my comfort zone. Both of them. Aside from the paranormal elements, there's the fact that I'm writing both in third person POV. Don't ask me why-- it's just what the story demanded. Mostly because there are multiple POVs that need to be explored and again, multiple first hasn't exactly worked for me in the past. And I think rather than beat my head against the wall, trying to get the industry to bend to my will (again, because that's worked so well in the past), I decided to just go with it. And I'm trying really hard not to feel as if I'm conceding the battle, which is stupid, but tell it to my competitive psyche.

See, what I'm telling my competitive psyche is: "Look, doofus, you began writing in first person because it suited your skill set at the time. Now you're a better writer, you can take all that you've learned in first and translate it to third person POV and rock the hell out of it."

It's actually working. My third, if I do say so myself, is actually pretty strong. It still doesn't come quite as naturally as first, but hello-- I've been writing in first person POV for nearly ten years.

At any rate, I'm hoping that these really are working as well as I think they are because I'd love nothing more than to be able to share them. The adult in particular is wicked fun to write (and I'm creeping myself out monumentally with it).

Anyhow, that's me. For now.

I'm over at YA Outside the Lines today, talking about boundaries and new experiences.

I've taken up dancing.

As in, ballroom dancing.

So amidst the outpouring of auction support for Japan (and yay, for all the wonderful authors contributing) there's also another auction happening right now that's for a bit more intimate cause. A wonderful and tireless supporter of the romance community, Fatin, who runs several blogs and sites, tragically lost her husband a few weeks back in a senseless act of violence, leaving her a young widow with four children. (Details here)

In response, the romance community for which she's been such a passionate advocate is extending a helping hand, hosting an auction that went live yesterday to raise funds for Fatin and her children.

As my contribution, I've offered up lunch combined with pitch practice at RWA National this June. And you know, having done this for a while, I'm actually pretty good at the pitch thing, so if you or someone you know is going to National and freaking out about pitching, this is a good way to deal with the jitters and do something nice at the same time.

In addition to my modest little offering, there are also scads of book bundles and critiques and really unique items/experiences/services up for auction, so you should check it out and tell your friends.

Operation Auction 2011. There will be new items rotating in over the next few days, so be sure to check often.