But I’ve actually been right here, writing (and occasionally Tweeting. And Facebooking). It’s just so hard to tear myself away from my heroines’ worlds to tell you about my own because mine is so boring in comparison (uh . . . I got glasses?).

If you don’t believe me, watch this (the first in a series of videos about my new book Abandon that are going to be coming out, and I swear they get better and better as they go on. Hint: so does my hair, at least in the ones in which I appear):

Click here to view the embedded video.

Yes. I filmed that in a cemetery.

You never know where life is going to end up taking you as a writer.

Apparently, sometimes it is a cemetery.

I have no idea what kind of expression I am making here. I think it’s Please Don’t Haunt Me, Dead People.

You wouldn’t think the main problem with filming in a cemetery would be chasing away the chickens and tourists who kept wandering into the shot, but it was (for real).

Everyone keeps asking me “Did you write a modern re-imagining of the myth of Persephone because you love the Greek myths or something?”

And the truth is, I think the Greek myths are very interesting.

But I really only ever cared about the myth of Persephone while I was growing up because I always thought there was something very compelling about someone who felt such a connection to a girl that he resorted to doing something as outrageous as kidnapping her and then allowing the earth’s entire population to starve (that is like ten felonies right there).

(If you don’t know the myth, don’t worry, a video will follow soon to explain it.)

That’s why I used to sit around in Algebra and draw these little scenes from the myth in my notebook instead of paying attention.

I think everyone can relate to that scary feeling of falling in love for the first time— you really do think you’d be willing to do almost anything for that person.

And as a teenager, I was always longing to find that one special person who would not only completely love and understand me exactly as I was (no phony pretense), but come and take me away to a place where I would fit in.

Because I felt like I didn’t fit in at ALL where I lived, and that no one understood me, either. I kind of felt . . . Abandoned.

So to me, that’s what the myth of Persephone was about. And that’s what Abandon is about, too.

I should probably let you know I am going on a national book signing tour for this book. I don’t have all the confirmed dates or cities yet, but some of the states I know I’ll be heading for at the end of April are Tennessee, Texas, Georgia, and Kansas City, MO. As soon as I find out more, I will let you know!

You’ll also be seeing me at the International Reading Assocation convention from May 8-May 11 in Orlando, FL, and then after that, Toronto, Canada! (I know! I haven’t been in Canada in ages! Hello, Canadians! I love you!)

Then in June, I’ll be in Boston (can you believe I have never been to Boston???), Chicago, and San Francisco doing joint signings with the fabulously talented authors Libba Bray and Maggie Stiefvater (and another one in Miami in July) for their upcoming releases! How fun does that sound?

And look for even more cities in July for my Overbite tour (first stop: New York City)!

I know. So much is going on. That’s why I have to get all my work done now. So, I’ll talk to you later.

And in the meantime, don’t worry. We can all sleep when we’re you-know-what.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

Which of course I do, because now there’s a bald spot across her butt that resembles the one on the back of Prince William’s head.

Not to mention the fact that every time I come into the room I find wads of fur on my pillow, like a gift from the Fur Fairy.

So we contacted the mobile vet.

Because the worst part about going to the vet is getting Henrietta into her carrier (claws flailing, skin slashed) and then the car ride over (screaming, projectile vomit), and then pulling her out of the carrier (revenge poop flying everywhere), and getting her examined (vet giving up, insisting she needs to be anesthetized for the safety of everyone concerned, Henrietta instituting a riot in the back room where all the other pets are quietly waiting their turn, me having to go in there and break things up, B.A. from the A-Team style).

PS None of the above is exaggerated in the slightest. I only wish it were.

But now, blessings upon her, there’s a vet who makes house calls!

I was sure we’d be able to fool Henrietta into thinking nothing out of the ordinary was going on. She’d just be lounging around, spitting fur across the room, and then . . . SURPRISE! Thermometer up the butt.

Because really, Henrietta is a sweet little angel who fell down from heaven to be with me seventeen plus years ago. The only reason she misbehaves so badly when we remove her from her home environment, I’ve always insisted, is because she was found as a tiny one-eyed stray in Brooklyn. Brooklyn girls, as we all know, are very tough. They don’t like to be messed with.

This was before the vet suggested that perhaps Henrietta’s problems stem from “tortietude.”

“Tortietude” is the “attitude” commonly found in tortoiseshell cats, which “tend to be very nervous and jumpy, and prone to hyperactivity. They are also very sweet and loving when calm—” especially around their owners, to whom they are fiercely loyal, very much one-person cats “—but are easily riled up and very high strung.”

Of course, I’m not sure Henrietta is a tortoiseshell. She fits the personality profile, but tortoiseshells, or “torties,” are cats with “mottled” fur, usually with patches of orange or cream and chocolate, black or blue (they differ from calicoes in that calicoes are predominantly white).

Henrietta, as you can see, does have the colors listed above . . . but she has all of them. She looks like a frappuccino threw up on her:

In case you didn’t know, according to their Wikipedia entry, torties are believed to bring good luck. The Japanese Maneki Neko figurine is a calico cat, which is a subset of the tortie (or the tortie is a subset of the calico, whichever).

It’s said to bring money and good fortune, which is why you always see it in Japanese restaurants.

One thing I do know for sure: Tortie or not, Henrietta outdid herself in tortie behavior with the mobile vet when she showed up.

As soon as she saw her, Henrietta started out with a few casual warning hisses. Then when I tried to get her to stand up for the examination, she not only decided to pretend her legs didn’t work, she began making sounds like a ninja warrior getting ready for a full on attack. And no one but me was even touching her.

Then she went in for the kill.

It took three of us—He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog included—to hold a nine pound, seventeen year old cat, screaming and spitting her head off, down on the back porch table.

I’m pretty sure my neighbors thought we were sacrificing a goat.

It was at this point that our other cat, Gem—or as I like to call her, Slutty-McSlut-A-Lot, my husband’s black and white tuxedo cat who wandered over to our house shortly after we bought it and decided to stay—apparently felt it would be a good idea to jump up onto the table and see if anyone was free to pet her.

Why not? We didn’t seem to be doing anything other than holding down a wildly screaming, maladjusted seventeen year old cat. Why not go up to each of us while we were standing there and start rubbing her head on our body parts that happened to be sticking out, including our boobs? Surely that wouldn’t distract us, or antagonize the other cat as much as possible.

Oh, and why not stretch luxuriously at the end of the table, right in front of the other cat, who was doing her best imitation of someone who was having a limb being severed off when all we were doing was trying to check her for fleas? That wouldn’t bother anyone, would it? Surely not. Look. Look at me. I’m FANTASTIC:

I know you will think I am making this up, but at one point Gem actually climbed up onto my husband’s shoulders and sat there, leering down at poor Henrietta and purring, JUST TO SHOW OFF.

I have seriously never seen such a slutty cat.

After we’d shoved Gem out of the way and Henrietta had been humiliated as thoroughly as possible (in her own mind), we let her down from the table. She huffed off and went to go curl up in her cat bed, from which she threw us many malevolent stares for ACTUALLY TRYING TO HELP HER (and cleaning out her ears). You could clearly hear her thinking, TRAITORS.

Henrietta is quite elderly now and is a bit stiff—although there is nothing actually wrong with her, as she can run VERY fleetly when she hears food being opened—so I’ve bought her a lot of stairs to help her get around. She has a set to help her get into her favorite bed (which she also uses to walk across the nightstand to get into MY bed, which of course she infinitely prefers to her own bed, especially to throw up in and, as previously mentioned, spit fur in):

She also has some stairs to get up onto the side of the bathtub, because of course all cats like to sit on the side of the bathtub while their owner is reading and scream for no reason for her to fill tiny water bottle caps for them to drink from, right?

Henrietta, who is already on the tiniest amount of thyroid medication imaginable, is now on the tiniest amount of steroid medication imaginable. Her food (much to her mortification) has also been changed (like me, she is now on a gluten-free diet, and of course she HATES it. Though why a cat would hate being on a fresh meat and fish diet is beyond me. But then, it is Henrietta), and so has all her bedding, just in case it turns out there is anything that might have been causing an allergic reaction.

And it’s worked. The hair pulling has stopped! Fur is growing back over the bald spots. Her butt now looks like it’s had a tiny comb over. Soon it will be back to full frappuccino glory.

Unfortunately, she still hisses at everyone who walks into the house (except me, with whom she insists on cuddling at the most inopportune times, such as when I am writing, bathing, or trying to sleep).

But, as everyone points out, it would be out of character for her to behave otherwise.

Because, tortoiseshell or not, she’s got tortietude. And we wouldn’t want her any other way.

Leave me alone!

More later.

Much love,

Meg

But in what other year has something touched all of us as deeply as the miraculous rescue of those Chileans from that collapsed mine; the announcement of the engagement of a prince who lost his mother in a tragic accident at such a tender age; and a man weeping openly and without shame at the sight of a beautiful double rainbow?

Answer: None!

Those of us in the entertainment industry—oh, sorry, I mean the literary community—worked harder than ever this year to craft moving, exciting, and/or hilarious tales in an effort to help you forget your problems. And I think we did a pretty good job.

But I hope in 2011, we’ll do even better (more later on the projects I’ve got coming out next year)!

In the meantime, I Tweeted/Facebooked a request to all of you last week for your favorite books/movies/TV shows/scandals etc. of 2010, and was inundated with replies! I’ve posted them below, along with my own picks, for your entertainment.

Enjoy!

Best Movies of 2010:

After a long day, who doesn’t want to escape into someone else’s problems for ninety minutes via the big screen? There basically isn’t a movie that came out in 2010 that I didn’t see or don’t plan on seeing (except Love and Other Drugs. I love Anne Hathaway, but I can’t handle seeing people I’ve actually met naked. This is why I don’t belong to a gym. My only exception is my husband, but honestly, I try not to see him naked either), and I’ve found something to like about every one of them, even The Bounty Hunter, although that one was hard.

A lot of you chose Inception as your favorite movie for 2010, with The Social Network coming in a close second, and Tangled, Toy Story 3, and Harry Potter 7 pt. 1 tied for 3rd.

I’d like to throw in a couple of honorable mentions for the hilarious Easy A, Winter’s Bone (or, as I like to call it, “You don’t want to find your daddy”), and The Ghost Writer.

Whenever I mention this last movie, people always go, “Wasn’t that directed by Roman Polanski? But he pled guilty to having sex with a minor, then fled the country to avoid jail. I will never pay money to see one of his movies!”

Here is my two cents on this, or as I like to call it, My Moment of Brittany:

It’s true: Sometimes very talented people can be total douchebags (sorry. But you know it’s true. Your cousin Bobby is one, for instance).

Every family has a Cousin Bobby. He’s the one who gets totally drunk at every family gathering, then behaves inappropriately. Last year, Cousin Bobby stuck his tongue in my mouth by way of saying hi. WTF, Cousin Bobby? You’re married (three times), plus you have children (that you ignore). And PS, I do not like you, and I’m married, too. Oh, and did you forget we’re cousins?

Cousin Bobby: “I’m Dr. Shots. Get it? Come over here, I’ll give you a shot. OF TEQUILA.”

But then Cousin Bobby sat down at the piano and played this heartbreakingly touching rendition of Oh, Danny Boy, and none of us could stop crying.

Damn you, Cousin Bobby! You are so gross. How can you create such beautiful music?

It’s a question man has been asking since the beginning of time: Why are the most talented people of the world often such total douchebags, just like Cousin Bobby, who PS liked to substitute the word “vagina” for “night” and “stars” in the Christmas carol “Oh Holy Night” when we were kids in church? Oh holy vagina, the vaginas are shining brightly. It is the vagina of the dear savior’s birth.

Cousin Bobby: “What’d I do? Why’s everybody so mad? Whaddaya mean, it’s Christmas, not Halloween? This isn’t a costume!”

Donate some money to RAINN if you feel badly about it, but in my opinion, if you’re a writer and you don’t see The Ghost Writer, you’re only hurting yourself. Yes, Roman Polanski is a Cousin Bobby. But that doesn’t mean he’s talentless. It just means he’s tortured, possibly by the burden of his genius. Or vaginas.

You can see an amazing round up of almost all of the movies of 2010 here:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Best TV Show in 2010:

You guys picked a lot of the same TV shows I watched this year . . . Glee, Modern Family, The Office, 30 Rock, Cougar Town, Parks and Rec, How I Met Your Mother, Saturday Night Live, and of course, the best show ever (except perhaps for The Wire), Friday Night Lights, the final season of which I’m watching on DirecTV right now. So good!

(Although not a day goes by that I don’t think about Julie Taylor and worry about her and then remember I don’t have to . . . she’s not my kid!)

And where would we be without The Closer (love that she’s back for the holiday season!), Castle (one of you nominated me to replace Stephen Cannell in Castle’s poker group. How cute are you? But I don’t think this is going to happen. I am terrible at cards, I don’t even remember how to play Old Maid), Lie To Me (He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog does a hilarious Lightman imitation), Burn Notice, and basically all the hour long dramas that Aziz Ansari’s cousin Harris watches.

A couple of new shows, The Walking Dead and Terriers (which sadly wasn’t renewed for next year, but will hopefully find new life on another network) were also personal favorites of mine, along with an oldie that’s become a sudden cult fave thanks to hilarious moments like this one with Kathy Griffin: my homegirls Hoda and Kathy Lee on the Today Show, every morning at ten AM. They’ve turned Wednesdays into Winesdays and their show into Must See TV. And they BETTER HAVE ME ON IN 2011! (I’ve met Hoda, but not Kathy Lee.)

But really, nothing could outshine the brilliance of one television performer this year. You all know who she is. Let’s hear it for:

Brittany

Here are some of the best Brittany moments of all time:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Best Scandal of 2010:

Really, there were so many scandals in 2010, it’s hard to choose just ONE. Obviously there are the more recent ones, like Wikileaks (Julian Assange: hero? Or Cousin Bobby? I know my vote), members of the band Paramore leaving, Miley Cyrus smoking salvia, and what Forever YA is calling James Frey’s Million Little S****y Contracts (face it: 2010 just might be the year of Cousin Bobbies everywhere).

Then there are the ongoing sagas of Mel Gibson (total Cousin Bobby), Lindsay Lohan, and of course the Sandra Bullock/Jesse James breakup, followed by the less salacious but equally fascinating Camille and Kelsey Grammer breakup (Camille used to go to NYU—I believe for a summer program—and we got a lot of her fan mail in the office where I used to work, which of course we read because she left no forwarding address. You gotta love a lady who inspired so much devotion from so many death row inmates. Honestly, I don’t know what Cousin Bobby–I mean, Kelsey–was thinking.)

But my favorite scandal of 2010 was when Sesame Street pulled Katy Perry’s video with Elmo from the air because parents complained she was showing too much cleavage.

Apparently these parents do not care that Elmo has never once, not for a single moment in his life, put on a pair of pants.

Elmo = Cousin Bobby.

Dance us out, Camille:

Best Internet Video of 2010:

After heated debate, many nominations, and even some brawls, most people decided this year’s award should go to Antoine Dodson. If you don’t know who Antoine is, watch this helpful Know Your Meme! Video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

I believe what endeared Antoine to everyone is that we can all relate to his frustration. He had the courage to speak out about injustice; he faced adversity (in his own way); he never gave up; he believed in himself; but most importantly of all, HE HAD A SENSE OF HUMOR. In 2010, you totally needed all of these things! Shout out as well to Antoine’s sister, who put up with all of this like a trooper.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Best Song of 2010:

In many ways to me the songs that best summed up 2010 came from the Internet (Double Rainbow Guy, Bed Intruder song, etc).

But there were some fantastic songs that came out this year that weren’t inspired by weird YouTube videos, such as the ones on Arcade Fire’s new album (one of the highlights of my year was seeing them at Madison Square Garden. SO MUCH FUN), Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine, pretty much the whole new Taylor Swift album, anything by Bruno Mars or Katy Perry, Cee Lo’s F*** You (not to mention everything off the rest of his whole album), Drake’s entire body of work, anything and everything by Glee (but I especially love Darren Criss’s version of Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream), the new Eminem album (is it weird that I want to tenderly stroke Eminem’s head and tell him things are going to be all right?), Usher’s OMG, Rhianna’s Rude Boy, Airplanes by B.O.B., and of course Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance and Willow’s I Whip My Hair.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Best Books of 2010:

I’m just going to come out and say that when I’m done writing my own book for the day, the last thing I want to do is read someone else’s book, because it always seems so much better than whatever I’ve been working on!

(Note to aspiring writers: It’s okay to hate your own work with a deep, abiding passion. Conversely, it’s okay to think your book is the best thing you have ever read. All of us waffle back and forth between these two emotions, usually every five minutes. That’s why the second worst decision you could ever make is to marry a writer. First worst decision: cut your own bangs.)

So you will understand why I’m not going to put my vote for Best Book here, as my best Book for 2010 would basically be anything not written by me.

You, on the other hand, voted for too many books for me to name, including but not limited to anything by Russell Brand, Suzanne Collins, Anna and The French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins (this is a cute read about a girl who is forced to go to boarding school in France. I wish someone would force me to go to boarding school in France. Although not the parts where I had to go to class), anything and everything by Sarah Dessen, Richelle Meade, Charlaine Harris, Tamora Pierce, that dead Swedish guy who put so many sandwiches in his book (not to mention all the sex. Was there a single female character in the books with whom his hero did NOT have sex?), AND WAY TOO MANY OTHER AUTHORS FOR ME TO NAME, so I’m going to quit now.

You guys read a LOT in 2010. Keep it up!

Special 2010 Historical Note on Ereaders:

There was a lot of debate on this topic this year. Much was made out of the fact that sales of certain books in e-format outpaced sales of certain books in hardcover. Some people started predicting the “death of books.” Here is my Moment of Brittany on the subject:

I like to write things on a screen, but read things on paper. My husband likes to write things on paper, but read things on his iPad. We each think the other’s way of doing things is insane, but that’s okay.

Whatever format the story appears in, the important thing to remember is that it is still being told. People are still reading. Books are not dead. Stories and storytellers are still vitally needed, perhaps more than ever, to provide us all with an escape from the stress of the real world.

So relax! The way stories get told might be changing, but the need for them is greater than ever. Write them, and readers will come.

Though personally, I’m sticking to books made out of paper because I like reading in the bathtub, even though I’m aware they make waterproof covers for Ereaders now.

In 2010, we all gave it our personal bests (except, obviously, for Cousin Bobby). I know I tried to keep people entertained with not one but two installments of Allie Finkle’s Rules for Girls series—Glitter Girls and the Great Fake Out (March 2010) and Blast From the Past (September 2010)—the final installment in the Airhead series, Runaway (April 2010); the first in my new romantic series for adults, Insatiable (June 2010); a Disney Channel movie (Avalon High); and several anthology contributions for charity.

Since there’s nothing I love more than writing, I can’t help but look back at this year with gratitude and awe. I still can’t believe I get to do what I love best in the whole world (besides eating cheese popcorn) for a living!

And it’s really because of all of YOU (well, and the fantastic people with whom I work). YOU are what made 2010 such a great year for me. I can’t thank each and everyone of you enough for reading my books (and this blog, my message boards, and my Facebook and Twitter pages), and for coming to my book signings and other events. The only way I can think of to show my gratitude is to provide you with even better books in the coming year . . . so that’s my New Year’s resolution! Look out for Abandon, coming in April 2011 . . . .

. . . and the sequel to Insatiable, Overbite, in summer 2011.

There’ll be much, much more, coming soon.

In the meantime, I hope this holiday season is your best ever. I have a feeling 2011 is going to be our best year yet! Now, drive carefully, and keep your lips shut real tight around Cousin Bobby.

XXXOOO

More later.

Much love,

Meg

Only we can’t tell the truth because Great Aunt Mignonette is sitting there, and it’s unlikely she’s going to share your appreciation for the continuous birth control pill that allows you to be period free, let alone Drake, former star of Degrassi turned rapper, or the fact that Jennifer Grey won Dancing With the Stars.

So I like to make a list of the things I’m REALLY thankful for in advance to get them out of my system before Great Aunt Mignonette* comes over, and that way, when it gets to be my turn at the table, I can say, “I’m just thankful we can all just be together once again.”

(*Ha, burn! I’m having a Great Aunt Mignonette-free Thanksgiving this year! And the truth is, most great aunts are pretty cool and appreciate the continuous birth control pill and Drake just as much as we do. But I’m going to put my list here anyway, so when I’ve had way too many mimosas while watching the Thanksgiving Day parade, and can’t remember what I’m grateful for when someone asks, I’ll have something to refer to.)

Things I Am Thankful For This Thanksgiving:

That there’s a new Disney princess movie (starring the amazing Mandy Moore!) with a kickass heroine that’s getting rave reviews. Let’s hope it’s not the last.

*

That I do not live in North Korea.

Yeah. She’s talking to YOU, Kim Jong Il!

*

That it turns out my cat Henrietta–whom I was convinced had some rare and exotic form of cat cancer because she was tearing out giant clumps of her own fur and spitting them across the room, so the vet wanted to put her under anesthesia to take a blood sample because she’s so crazy no one but me can get near her–only had fleas. FLEAS! We discovered this with a flea comb, no anesthesia or blood sample necessary.

Which is amazing, considering the fact that she’s an indoor cat who never even ventures downstairs to the first floor of my house, where my indoor/outdoor cat, who does not have fleas, occasionally hangs out.

Henrietta as a baby, exhibiting her resentment over the fact that I wanted to make the bed.

*

I am also thankful for Revolution Flea Medication, which cured Henrietta of her bizarre hair pulling and spitting, and got rid of the fleas!

*

That there are people like author Brenda Novak, who runs this amazing website which has raised over a million dollars for diabetes research, and who asked ME to donate something!

So I’m donating a Royal Afternoon Tea at the Palm Court at The Plaza in New York City for four (not including ME! The tea is for four ladies, such as two mothers and their daughters, or four aspiring authors, or the four Real Housewives of New Jersey, or anyone who cares to bid on it, plus ME, the person who is taking all of you out) anytime between the last week of June and July 4, 2011!

. . . I’m also including a signed set of the newest books I’ll have out then, Abandon and Overbite, the sequel to Insatiable, as well as a complete signed set of the Princess Diaries series (with signed DVDs of the movies).

The Palm Court at the Plaza is where Princess Mia finds out she’s a princess, and where another very integral scene takes place in later, in Princess Diaries Ten (well, okay. It takes place in a carriage outside the Plaza). Whoever wins this tea, we’re going to have a jolly good time (I’m an expert in giving princess lessons, fashion tips, and advice on getting a boyfriend and/or published).

Click HERE to begin the bidding!

*

That I’m going to be in New York City to do the above because I’m going to be emceeing the 2011 RITA and Golden Heart Awards Ceremony at the Romance Writer of America’s 31st Annual Conference in New York City at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square on July 1, 2011.

Which was a job I TOTALLY wanted after I got to give out the award for best-yet-to-be-published-YA at last year’s awards ceremony.

Madeline Hunter will be this year’s conference keynote speaker, and Sherrilyn Kenyon is the Awards Luncheon speaker. Julia Quinn will speak at the Librarians Day Luncheon. With the conference located in the heart of the publishing industry (so every editor and agent in the business is guaranteed to be there) you won’t want to miss it.

But just in case, here’s what last year’s YA Golden Heart winner, Erica O’Rourke, has to say about how RWA helped her on the road to success.

*

Okay, I will say it: I am thankful for my yoga mat (not really, but every time I go to yoga, my instructor asks us to take a moment to be thankful for our yoga mats. I am usually too busy going, “OH MY GOD MY ARMS HURT!” to do so, so I am going it now).

*

Figment.com, for interviewing me about what it’s like to get a movie made based on one of my books.

*

That I live with such an amazing cook, who is preparing such an amazing meal, and all I have to do is set the table (well, and do the dishes).

The chef at work.

*

The continuous birth control pill that let’s you to be period free! Shhh, don’t tell Great Aunt Mignonette! (Read about it here. Great Aunt Mignonette totally wishes they had this when she was young. Then she wouldn’t have had to miss karate class all those days because of her cramps).

*

The fact that one of these days, I’m actually going to be able do some of the poses in my yoga class, and develop some muscle tone, and all of this pain is going to be worth it. Or so I am told.

*

That there’s going to be a royal wedding.

*

Timothy Olyphant, in Justified, The Perfect Getaway, The Crazies, and well, just about everything he’s been in, really.

*

That I embraced my dark side and went brunette again, a decision supported by at least one person in my household, who has also embraced her dark side.

*

People who send me funny links, like this one.

*

That I have so many amazing readers like you, who are so supportive and sweet. I hope all of you have the best Thanksgiving ever. Give Great Aunt Mignonette a big hug from me.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

And I started wishing someone would do a poll to find out how many authors were bullied as kids. I bet the number would be really high.

Because a lot of us write about it. Almost every book in the Allie Finkle series is about bullying or being bullied. The Princess Diaries series, too. Some people think girls don’t bully, but as this article in last week’s Sunday Times showed, they most certainly do. Even cats can be bullies!

These are my friends’ cats, JJ and Howard, who are neutered males. I believe JJ just walked over and sat on Howard because Howard doesn’t really know what is going on most of the time, and is quite fluffy and would make an excellent pillow. (No cats were actually harmed in this photo).

I, like Kandi on the Real Housewives of Atlanta, have always tried to let my haters be my motivators, and then gotten revenge on my bullies by writing about them (not on Facebook! I’m talking about writing for a living, and making money from it).

I realize this won’t solve your problem if you are being bullied NOW (like Howard in the photo above).

But like Howard, all you have to concentrate on doing NOW is surviving, so you can get your book or whatever published LATER.

Another tip is always to be sure to change the name (and hair color) of your tormentor when you publish your story about him or her, so you won’t be sued by your bully the way Eminem was when he published a song about his.

Although Eminem won when the three-judge panel unanimously decided it was “apparent that a reasonable listener would not take the song lyrics about the defendant literally.”

Still, you don’t want to run the risk of having to give money to your bully! And why stoop to his or her level? Always try to rise above it whenever possible (I had one bully I used to wish a cheerful “Good morning!” every day. This kind of behavior often confuses bullies. Also highly recommended, as later this bully decided we were friends. We were NOT friends, but she stopped tormenting me, so this worked).

A lot of people find solace writing about their bullies in their diaries, which is also good therapy, and why I Tweeted and Facebooked over the weekend about how we had to get Mortified, the movie, made. Mortified is a book series containing REAL LIFE diary entries, often about bullies (but sometimes about even more hilarious things). Because of YOU all donating, they met their minimum goal.

You amaze me. No, really. YOU AMAZE ME. But the more we give, the BIGGER they’ll be! So tell your friends ($10! $20! Whatever)!

I can’t WAIT to see this movie. Perhaps there will be more about Drake, the worst bully of ALL TIME!

(FYI, Drake is NSFW. Obviously! He’s a bully!)

Click here to view the embedded video.

And this still makes me laugh every time I see it, although I’m not sure Shane and Diego count as bullies.

I personally think it’s VERY important for funny movies (for instance, of people reading from their childhood diaries) to get made, because there is so much sadness (and bullying) in the world.

So it would probably be a good idea to go see the movie It’s Kind of a Funny Story starring Zack Galifinakis. I did one of my very first author appearances ever with Ned Vizzini, the author of the book this movie is based on. He was doing one of HIS very first appearances that day, too, so we were both like, “WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE???” (Only Ned probably had more reason to feel that way, since he was like 19 or something at the time. Literally.)

Anyway, Ned is totally funny, so do yourself and your school a favor and “Demand It!” Bring Ned to your school (with Funny Story star Keir Gilchrist) to speak about mental health (open until 10/17/10).

I think it’s very brave of Ned to volunteer to do so many school visits. The last time I did a school visit, it was kind of scary, because I asked the class what kind of “rules” they could think of (because Allie Finkle likes rules), and a little boy raised his hand and said very gravely:

“A good rule is don’t go near cliffs, because then you might fall off the cliff, and then people at the top of the cliff might throw rocks down at you.”

After a moment of (on my part, stunned) silence I replied that I thought we could all agree that this was a very good rule.

It was also later revealed to me that another rule is that boys have penises, and girls have vaginas.

School visits! They are very tricky. Especially if the smell of schools fills you with memories of your bully. But I try to be brave.

Here are a few quick other things that are going on, unrelated to cats, bullies, or cliffs:

There’s a spooky Halloween charity auction! All proceeds go to Doctors Without Borders! Bid on books by Melissa Marr, Kelley Armstrong, Richelle Mead, and many others (including me)! Click here to see the list of authors, then follow the links to find out how to bid!

I read some books while I was on vacation! One of them was by Daniella Brodsky, who had a book made into a TV movie starring Hillary Duff (HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN THIS?)

I hope they turn Vivian Rising (the book I read) into a movie, too! It was a super fun read with everything you could want: romance, fortune telling, and a makeover (of the soul)!

If you read one book, make it VIVIAN RISING by Daniella Brodsky.” – SHAPE Magazine

Another great book I read was called THREADS by Sophia Bennett. Here is the US title and cover:

This book won’t be out in the US until January 2011

At a certain point very early on in this book I got scared it might have a sad ending (there ARE some bullies in this book!), so I had to peek at the end, as I always do. But then I accidentally dropped it in the bathtub and the pages glued shut so I couldn’t peek and I had to wait FOUR DAYS for it to dry out enough for me to finish it, ENDING UNSEEN, and find out what happened (100% amazing).

So you can tell I was into this book. Highly recommended for all ages!

(I promised myself I wouldn’t say this, but I’m going to: This book would make an excellent bat mitzvah gift book. GAH! I SAID IT! BUT IT’S TRUE! Although there is no bat mitzvah in it.)

I sort of have bat mitzvahs on the brain though because this weekend while I’m in Texas I’m going to be missing the bat mitzvah of a VIFF (Very Important Friend of the Family), Shai, and I feel really badly about it because I got the dates mixed up, and I said I would come to her bat mitzvah, but now I can’t.

I’m so, so sorry Shai! I will pick up something really cool for you in Texas (only not Threads because it is not out in the US yet. Also I realize bat mitzvahs aren’t about the gifts).

Maybe a bat from the bat cave in Austin for the BAT mitzvah? Only maybe not because that’s a really bad joke and I think it’s probably illegal to transport bats across state lines.

Oh, well, that’s it for now. Just remember, if you are being bullied:

SURVIVE.

Remember you are not alone.

Try to rise above it.

But WRITE about it (just not on Facebook).

And don’t forget to change your bully’s name in the song or book or screenplay you are writing if it gets published, so when you’re rich later like Eminem, you won’t get sued!

And in the meantime, watch funny movies (or read funny books)!

More later.

Much love,

Meg

No, the truth is, my husband has left me. Before you start worrying, he’ll be back. He’s been gone on and off all summer. His parents needed help relocating from the six bedroom house in which he grew up—and which they no longer find themselves able to manage these days—to the new senior living community I picked out for them, because I don’t want to turn on CNN and see that this has happened to them.

(Which, believe me, it could, knowing them.)

So we (because even though I’m not physically there, I’ve been the Chloe to his Jack Bauer) have had quite a summer. If you have ever moved a senior, you know what I mean. It’s actually a lot like moving a college student, only most college students don’t want to cram 900,000,000 boxes marked “Holiday Candles” into their new dorm room. And generally, you don’t have to worry about college students causing this, whereas with certain seniors, well, you know.

On the plus side, He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog being gone has left me free to return to my favorite deadline diet of tortilla chips, fudge from Winn-Dixie, TaB, and M&Ms (having Celiac disease AND a book due AND in-laws you now have to keep from being eaten by wild dogs is really hard, you guys), and bond with his cat, Slutty-McSlut-Slut-A-Lot, who maybe likes me a little TOO much:

She bites me if I try to get up. I think I am being abused..

My own cat, Henrietta, had to be taken to the vet because she’s just generally been acting weird (it’s hard to tell though, with her). But she behaved so wildly when it came time to draw blood to check her thyroid levels that the decision was made to give her a little anesthesia to calm her down.

Please, don’t even say it. I was already forming my CTU style rescue mission in my head BEFORE I heard the screams. One Jack Bauer-style kick to the door later, and I found Henrietta projectile spraying diarrhea from her cage onto the rest of the animals, who were cowering in shock, while my cat, foaming at the mouth, attempted to assassinate them one-by-one.

Lock and Load

“We can’t contain her!” shrieked the technician.

“Everyone out,” I shouted. “Chloe, have you downloaded the schematics?”

“No, Jack, I need more time!” Chloe barked into my headset.

“Goddammit, Chloe, we haven’t got time! I’m going in!”

“Don’t do it, Jack! It’s suicide!”

“I’ve got to, Chloe. It’s our only chance of survival.”

I had no choice. I reached into that cage and pulled Henrietta out by her head, dodging nuclear missile style claws (and poop) as I stuffed her back into her Sherpa bag, then dove for safety before she was able to call for back up.

Weirdly, as I stood panting in the lobby, thanking the vet and saying we would have Henrietta’s blood drawn another day (when I am dead), paying, and apologizing for the mess, a woman asked me where I had found a medium-sized Sherpa bag in black. Coming out of that bag were sounds previously never detected by the human ear.

“Is that a weasel?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “That is my pet weasel.”

As soon as we got home and let her out of the bag, the weasel sauntered over to her favorite place by our toilet that always clogs, sat down, looked up innocently at He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog and I with her stylishly shaved neck, and meowed sweetly for Pounce.

I wuv you soooo much. I can haz Pounce now?

In other news, since I paid a LOT for a generator, I’m guessing Florida is going to get hit by our share of hurricanes while I’m at this groovy book signing in Denver in a couple weeks, where I won’t be able to enjoy using it, and then in October, when I’ll be heading off to the Texas Book Festival, where I further won’t be able to enjoy it. Because that is my luck.

And in non-hurricane related news, I am judging this writing contest, for kids ONLY. So please, Jonathan Franzen, BACK OFF!

Ha, that’s my only Jonathon Franzen joke, I haven’t got anymore. I rarely read literary novels, as I find them unwieldy in the bath.

My favorite bath time reads are mysteries, and if they happen to be set in wartime England and have a little romance in them, all the better! I’ve pretty much read every mystery ever written in this genre, from Agatha Christie to Patricia Wentworth, who is mostly out of print. Her Miss Silver mysteries are like Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple mysteries, but better. Not that I don’t like Agatha Christie.

But what I like best about Agatha Christie is something I just learned in this fascinating New Yorker piece by Joan Acocella. And that’s that Agatha once disappeared for two weeks after her husband announced he was leaving her for a lady he’d met on the golf course (Agatha’s husband never worked. She supported him with her book writing. So, this was nice of him, to leave her for a lady golfer).

People are STILL trying to piece together what happened to Agatha during her disappearance.

Here’s what we DO know: when Agatha disappeared, she checked into a hotel using the lady golfer’s last name, and then sat playing bridge with the other guests in the lobby, listening to the accounts of her own disappearance on the radio, and agreeing with everyone else that it was QUITE a mystery where Agatha Christie could have gone. A bit scandalous, even! Perhaps she was MURDERED.

People now say Agatha must have gone into a fugue state (a sort of amnesiatic trance about who and where she was). Why else wouldn’t she have responded to all the stories in the papers, saying that her publisher, her family, EVERYONE, was frantically looking for her?

She didn’t give up until a bellboy recognized her from all the pictures in the paper, called the police, and her husband showed up to fetch her.

For Agatha, the jig was up. And her publisher (and embarrassed family) hurried to insist the incident hadn’t been a publicity stunt, but something called “fugue state.”

And it worked, since her next book sky-rocketed to the bestseller list (The Murder of Roger Ackroyd was her first really big seller).

Agatha Christie went on to have a totally successful career AND a deliriously happy marriage to an archeologist (who was much younger than she was) that she met after her divorce. She accompanied him to many digs, and died at a ripe old age.

But if you ask me, Agatha wasn’t suffering from fugue. I think she was suffering from a different F word . . . one Cee Lo describes so perfectly in his hot new hit song, F*** You (and your girlfriend too), which is how I think Agatha would have put it.

I LOVE it! Go lady mystery writers. Now THIS is what I want to read about.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

Well, writers aren’t any different. I’m off to Orlando for the ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA NATIONAL CONVENTION. (Yeah, I did get a little excited writing that, thanks.)

I’m especially excited to go this year because I get to hand out an award . . . just like Vanna White!

This will give me an opportunity to meet lots of new people. Also to break in the new shoes I just ordered from Stella McCartney (if they arrive in time. FINGERS CROSSED).

I no longer enter the RITA, which is “romance writing’s highest award.” I got tired of the YA category always getting cancelled due to no one but me entering (but only AFTER I’d lugged my giant box of books to the post office).

The phone call from RWA Headquarters, telling me that they were going to send my books back to me, was always very sweetly apolegetic.

The last time this happened, I burst into tears right there on the phone.

All I could think was how cold it had been the day that I’d lugged that heavy box to the post office, through A SNOWSTORM (because, no matter what you’ve seen on Sex and the City, there are no cabs when it snow or rains in Manhattan), and how long the line at the post office turned out to be, and how much it cost to mail those stupid books (like, sixty dollars or something, maybe more, and that is not even including how much it costs to enter the RITAs, because it’s a pay-to-nominate-yourself contest.)

RWA was super nice about it though. They kept the box (because I said I never wanted to see it again. I think they donated the books to a library or something), AND sent me back my check.

Honestly, though, I could never enter the RITA again. How could I? It was just too traumatic. The snow. The box. The no cabs. The crying.

And now, years later, YA is actually a really big category! Who knew?

Anyway, I’m excited I get to hand out an award (and possibly wear my new shoes) at Nationals.

RWA National is just like nationals in Bring It On. In that everyone there is SUPER EXCITED.

So, come to the Super Big Signing on Wednesday night, where you will find ALL OF YOUR FAVORITE AUTHORS (open to the public at the Walt Disney World Swan and Dolphin Resort
 in Orlando, Florida from 5:30 to 7:30. For more info, go here).

And if you’re attending the conference, here are some other events where you can find me! I would LOVE to see you there (other events are TBT . . . To Be Tweeted)!

In the meantime, here are some helpful tips, for both authors and readers, on how to handle this very important week in the romance writing world . . .

. . . interspersed with some covers of my books from foreign countries that I have received lately!

While I treasure all the foreign copies my books—I keep them on a special built-in in a special room in my house (and it’s getting crowded there)—sometimes when I open the boxes they come in from the overseas publishers, and I see the cover art they have chosen, I’m a little surprised.

I’m not talking about something like this, of course:

But something more like this. A reader unfamiliar with my work might presume this is a little known opus by me called:

Pull Up Your Socks and Put Your Cat In a Bucket!

Book Signing Do’s and Don’t's For Readers:

1) Plan on getting to the event before it is scheduled to begin. Particularly at an event like this, your favorite authors will have to leave at the exact time the event ends (7:30), even if there are still people left in line.

So you want to be close to the front of the line by the time the signing starts, and have your books ready.

Oops! I’m Sorry. I Shouldn’t Have Eaten So Many Beans.

2) Authors LOVE that you own all their books. But sadly, they may not have time—or be allowed–to sign all of them at a big event where there will be lots of people in line behind you.

So please pick out a couple of your favorite books, and bring those along ONLY, plus the two that you buy at the event to help raise money for literacy.

If you do bring ALL of an authors books from home, the polite thing to do is just have her sign the books you bought that night and maybe a couple other very special books, then take the rest to the back of the line. If there is still time at the end of the event, the author will probably be more than happy to sign the rest of your books, unless she has to run off to dinner with Mickey and his friends.

Space Bikini Cowgirl

3) If it’s a long line, make friends with the people in line with you, so they will hold your place while you’re gone in case you have to go to the bathroom.

Samantha Finds A Lady Friend

4) When you finally do get to the front of the line, don’t stress about what you say to your favorite author. Anything you say that isn’t “Look, here is the jar of acid I brought to throw in your face” will be fine!

Hi, Meg. I’m your biggest fan. Do you like this sculpture I made you? It’s of your face. I made it from raw hamburger.

(Actually this book is the Turkish version of The Boy Next Door. 10 points for originality, Turkey, since The Boy Next Door has no dolls OR lockets in it.)

Saying, “I love your work” is super nice, and will make any author SO happy to hear.

Special note about saying “I’m your biggest fan.” Most author’s BIGGEST fan is probably her stalker, the person who insists all of her books are secretly coded messages written about him, and who says he’s coming to get her at her next signing, so she better watch her back. HE’S her biggest fan.

So when YOU say that, even though you mean it as a nice thing, what the author is probably thinking when she hears it is: “Actually, technically, no, you’re not my biggest fan. I have a restraining order against my biggest fan.”

So “I love your work!” is probably best.

5) Any author would be totally psyched that you want to interview her for your dissertation or newspaper or blog or whatever. But unless you’ve arranged it with her or her publicist beforehand, she may not have time to answer your questions at the signing, especially if there are a bunch of people behind you in line. So keep that in mind.

If Only She’d Look Behind Her . . .

6) Most authors are happy to personalize (meaning, they will write a specific message in) your books if you write down on a post-it note what you want them to say—if, for instance, the book is for a friend’s birthday, or a favorite niece, or just for you. Just write down in advance what you what the author to say (keep it short!) so she can spell the name correctly.

Strawberries and Cowboys and Gum. Mmmmm.

7) Different authors have different rules about photography. It gives some authors migraines to have flashes going off all night, which is totally understandable. So ask if you can take a photo first. (I’m fine with it—just let me put my lip gloss on first!)

Blow Up a Balloon and Give Your Kitten A Tiara!

(Actually, this book is Queen of Babble Gets Hitched. For real!)

DO’S AND DON’TS FOR WRITERS:

1) Writers are sensitive artists who understandably want to be known for their creative writing, not their fashion sense.

But it still never hurts to step it up a notch for a book signing. Smile! And have fun with it. Like the girls on this book cover, below. See? They get it.

Olsen Twins Go Wild!

2) Authors, I know some of you like to maintain an aura of mysteriousness, and pretend that you are a highly cultured, sensitive being who only watches PBS.

But you are at the Romance Writers of America convention in Orlando. I know that you are secretly going to the Harry Potter theme park every night and raiding Honeymeade’s. So try taking it down a notch.

SHE GOT LOST AT THE ORLANDO AIRPORT

4) Often when I go on a book tour I hear from booksellers about authors who were in their store the night before, and who signed so many books (not that many, though, really, when I ask for hard numbers) that they had to ice their hand, and have mugs of a special soothing herbal tea rushed in to them from the special tea shop five miles down the road.

And oh, yeah, the author had to have a limo bring her from the airport, but it had to be a white STRETCH limo (this is not a joke, I actually heard this one, and it was a normal author, not a celebrity author, and the author was in POLAND, where there were no stretch limos at the time, democracy just having been introduced there, and all), or the author would take to her bed.

She Took To Her Bed

Authors, seriously: Your job is not that hard (except the writing part. That part is hard). Unless, of course, you have an honest reason WHY you have to take to your bed, such as lyme disease, or, of course, this:

Hey, come here. There’s something I want to show you behind the Christmas tree.

I’M NOT WEARING ANY PANTS.

5) EVERYONE LOVES GOSSIP. And by everyone, I mean EVERYONE. Not just other writers, or readers, but limo drivers, bartenders, waitresses, hotel maids.

And FYI, they know exactly who you are and will repeat everything you said to the people you said it about because that’s the world in which we now live. The world of Snooki, or Snoozi, as Regis Philbin calls her.

Or they might even put it on their blog (yes, I was once forwarded a report about myself from the blog of a hotel maid. Thank God I am not that messy and I tipped).

Gossip is fun and also necessary to society (it lifts our spirits when we’re feeling sad! Thank you, Lindsay! I hope you emerge from jail stronger and better than ever, like Sarah Connor in Terminator 2).

But always remember, there are two sides to every story. And the one you heard might very well be the wrong one!

Remember how upset we all were when Princess Mia’s boyfriend Michael broke up with her, packed a bag, and moved to Japan?

Well, maybe it was because she looked this girl, above. That haircut! And that dress! What is she, Boris’s evil twin?

Run, Michael, run! Go to Japan, and never, ever come back! Or at least not until Mia is 18.

Oh, that’s what you did. OK, then. Fine.

See? You should get all the facts before you believe anything.

And always think before you speak! Be careful who you gossip about in those bathrooms. You never know who might be in the stall next door!

Think how much better the world would be if we all tried to act like princesses!

See you in Orlando.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

1. I had a new book come out.

2. I had an article on Huffington Post.

3. I had to remind myself of the famous Janeane Garofalo quote from The Truth About Cats & Dogs:“You can love your pets. But just don’t loooooove your pets…”

4. Glee had its season finale.

5. Someone named a chicken after me.

6. I had a blooper trailer come out on YouTube where I got attacked by a vampire a million times and consequently said a million swears (don’t worry, they’re blocked out).

I know. Check it out:

Here are some tips on what NOT to do if you want to make a Super Ultra Terrific Book Trailer in your own home:

1. DON’T put an ad on Craigslist saying that you’re making multiple book trailers about vampires. Because that will be who will answer your ad: Real life vampires. Who will want to know if you can pay them in your blood.

2. DON’T think you’re not going to get tackled.

3. A LOT.

4. DON’T think you will be done in a snap. There will be a LOT of takes due to laughing/wincing/swearing.

5. DON’T think it won’t be messy. My original suggestion for the ending of the First Trailer (below) was, “Fake blood could spurt up on the camera lens!” I never said, “A stunt man could tackle me, and then spit fake blood all over me, ruining my new shirt and sweater combo from Banana Republic.”

Instead, Brady, the director, handed me some padding and a tube and said, “Stuff these down your pants.”

In the end, he was so right though:

I had to do tons of research for Insatiable. And it turns out that many times the things we love—such as, for instance, cheese—have surprising, even disturbing origins (in the case of cheese, once you do know where it comes from, you may wish you didn’t).

The HuffPo piece I wrote is about how often we don’t know where these things—even very popular things, such as cheese, and, oh, vampires—come from.

The first rich, sexy vampire in literary history? He has an even stranger origin story than cheese. Read my revealing exposé of the origins of the first rich, sexy vampire in literature here!

Finding out how—and why—things become popular is something I’ll admit I’m a little obsessed with. I think it’s because we didn’t have cable or a VCR (or even People Magazine) in my house until I was practically in college.

No, these guys aren’t vampires. They’re just some of the sexiest men alive (according to People Magazine).

I just love it when everyone is excited about the same thing at the same time. Like sexy guys. Or e-readers. I’ve fondled them all. I love the way they feel! So nice.

But I read in the bathtub or at the pool. What if I drop them in?

But He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog is hooked. He LOVES his iPad (which I bought him as a present for putting up with me).

So how psyched was I when someone sent a link to show me that Insatiable was a featured book on iBooks?

So pretty!

OK, for this I might convert. But what if I drop it in the water?

There’s something so bonding about everyone loving the same thing at the same time. For instance, when I was in South Africa on a book tour two years ago, they were building all the hotels and stadiums in preparation for the World Cup soccer tournament which is on right now. Everyone was already super stoked about it (the cab drivers, the waiters, the people in my publishing house, my readers, EVERYONE).

That’s why I love pop culture: It brings people together.

Obviously people have been excited/scared about vampires for a VERY long time (as far back as the ancient Hebrews and Greeks). It’s fun to put your own spin on things that everyone is talking about. With Insatiable coming out this week, my favorite comment so far has been Jen Rothschild’s, which mentions that it contains “nuns kicking more vampire ass than Buffy.”

I’m so glad someone noticed the nuns! Mine belong to the Order of St. Clare. St. Clare is the patron saint of television. I thought this was particularly fitting, since Meena (the book’s heroine) writes for a TV show (named Insatiable). And of course, TV is my favorite source of pop culture.

You can buy your own St. Clare at Archee McPhee. My mom keeps hers on top of the TV. She swears it wards off the cable going out (such as, during the Glee finale which I haven’t seen yet because I was traveling. Don’t tell me what happened)!

St. Clare became the patron saint of TV after she became too bed ridden to attend mass. One of her miracles (you have to have at least 3 to be named a saint) was that the masses would magically appear on the wall of her convent cell. She could watch them from bed!

This was especially miraculous because it happened in the 1200s, before TV was even invented.

If you want to know how I know all this stuff, it’s because I was raised Catholic. I know TONS of saint stuff. I was going to include a Know Your Saints section in the back of the book but it got too late. Maybe I’ll put it on the Insatiable page!

My patron saint is Joan of Arc. I found this awesome necklace from this seller on Etsy, and have been wearing it ever since.

I chose Joan of Arc because she kicked butt while leading the French army. She’s also mentioned in Insatiable. Like Meena, the book’s heroine, Joan could foretell the future. But (also like Meena) when she tried to tell people, no one believed her (so she was burned at the stake at age 19 for witchcraft).

This necklace seems to be kicking butt, too (or maybe it’s just the book) since Insatiable‘s debut week has been fantastic! It’s been getting tons of great press, like this piece from The Omaha Herald and these videos from Daily Dish and Womans Day.

I also love this cute review on Lauren’s Crammed Bookshelf, not to mention this one from Girls in the Stacks and this hilarious interview from the “slumber party” I had with the fun girls at ForeverYoungAdult (they’re over 21 and like cocktails with their books).

But what can compare to being told I’ve had a chicken named after me?

Nothing, really.

How amazing is Wendy from Good Egg, who has also interviewed (and named chickens for) the likes of Jodi Picoult and Judy Blume? I was so excited to do this interview with her and have a chicken named after me . . .

. . . especially because, living in Key West where chickens roam the streets freely, I have a lot of day-to-day interactions with chickens (generally involving my husband’s cat, Slutty-McSlut-A-Lot, who likes to chase them out of our yard).

Do I want my own chickens? I sort of do (and I’m sure Slutty would love it).

Although I would have to find a chicken-sitter for when I went out of town, like I did this week, to see a family member I hadn’t seen in THREE YEARS. When you have pets it’s hard to just take off and leave. That’s when I always think about Janeane’s line from The Truth About Cats & Dogs:

“This is a good time to talk about limits: You can love your pets. But just don’t loooooove your pets…”

(Remember, when the guy calls in to her radio show and says his cat won’t stop licking him and he just lets it?)

It’s hard to take off and leave when you’re self-employed (and love your job), too. Sometimes I like to change Janeane’s quote (in my head) to:

“You can love your books. But just don’t loooooove your books…”

I wish teachers would make aspiring writers memorize this quote. I missed out on a lot of fun events in high school (and even middle school) because I chose to stay home and “finish one more chapter” of whatever crazy Jane Eyre or Star Wars fan fiction I was working on instead of going out.

Always remember that quote above, aspiring writers! LEARN IT. LIVE IT. It’s OK to love your book, but it’s never OK to looooove your book. PEOPLE are more important than BOOKS!

In the meantime, I plan on finding out how more things are made (such as cheese), and where they come from (chickens!) and especially what makes them popular (big daddy of the rich sexy vampires? Lord Bryon).

Finding out this stuff never seems to spoil my enjoyment of it. It just makes me crazy to know more!

Stay tuned for more results of my research . . . . I promise to keep the swearing to a minimum.

More later.

Much love,

Meg

Just go here and bid!

According to the site, you have THREE DAYS to bid on items (well, until midnight CENTRAL STANDARD TIME on third day). When comments close, bidding is over. Highest bid/last commenter wins. Winners will need to email dtwtfn @ gmail dot com.

Who’s that handsome guy with the fangs?

*Originally Vampire Ken was not included in the auction but I decided if bids go over $250 he’ll be thrown in. He was made for a special purpose by some very talented and creative people (at great personal sacrifice that included going to NYC’s FAO Schwarz on foot in a huge rainstorm), and may be called upon for future duty (full confession: he co-stars with Kate Spade Barbie and GI Joe in an upcoming Insatiable book trailer).

Close up of Vampire Ken

More later.

Much love,

Meg

Except the reason for this was not because a vampire had ravished me in the night and had to bite a pillow to keep from devouring me, but because my husband’s cat had apparently spent the early morning hours engaged in unnatural activities with a small bird.

(Don’t worry, the bird didn’t die. It was alive the last time I saw it, where I put it behind a neighbor’s fenced yard so it could recover in safety from Gem, aka Slutty-McSlut-a-Lot, aka Mengele.)

Obviously, Gem was not happy that I took away her new toy. She expressed this disapproval in true cat-like form, by projectile vomiting.

A friend took this picture and for some reason Gem’s eyes appear to be two different colors, but they aren’t in real life. Also, Gem appears angelic and quite clean in this picture, when in reality her face is always dirty from engaging in what I can only assume is her part-time hobby of sucking on the exhaust pipes of parked cars.

While cleaning Gem’s vomit from his pants, He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog noticed something sticking out of Gem’s nose. “My God,” he said. “It’s a piece of grass. She has a piece of grass stick out of her nose.”

Since the last time we noticed grass sticking out of Gem’s nose, it took four hours, general anesthesia, and $300 to have it surgically removed, I took the opportunity to point out that I had a flight to catch in one hour and no time for something that I assumed was not bothering her too much, considering how she had apparently spent her evening.

“Look!” HWSNBNITB cried. “Look at how long this thing is!”

Without consulting either Google or me, He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog had pulled the blade of grass from Gem’s nose with his fingers in three seconds, without any anesthesia, and for zero dollars. He put the three inch blade of grass in a place of honor on that morning’s newspaper, classified section.

“Don’t throw it away,” he said. “We have to show it to everyone.”

Gem, now mortally offended, sought revenge by trying to eat her own vomit.

Choosing not to join in either the vomit-eating or the excessive celebration of successful blade-pulling, I instead checked to see if I had saved myself from Stark Enterprises. You can imagine my surprise at seeing that I had! What’s more, many Stark employees have come forward with their own tales of horror. Or not:

I then checked to see if my flight was leaving on time, only to find out it had never been leaving until noon in the first place, and that I’d gotten up at least two hours too early to begin with, and could have avoided all of the above (except the feathers, I guess).

If you missed any of my stops along my blog tour, here’s a nice round up of all of them (or almost all of them), along with a video of me answering 5 questions almost truthfully (I’m not quite done with Abandon. I still have some people to kill off).

But that shouldn’t make you afraid to join me for my Twitter party tomorrow night . . . not to mention my book signing at the Mission Viejo Library!

Hope I’ll see some of you there (or some of the rest of the events I have this weekend at the Huntington Beach Barnes and Noble, or the LA Times Book Festival)!

In the meantime, I’ll be giving Niecy and Kate* a hand with their choreography, hanging around Kitsons to see if I can catch a glimpse of Tori, and of course helping Sandra through this extremely trying time in her life (too bad I couldn’t bring Gem with me, since I’m sure in hand-to-hand combat with Jesse, Gem would win).

More later.

Much love,

Meg

*Oh, I just saw Kate will not be needing my help with this. I was busy packing and watching Glee last night. So I will be helping to console her.