U-M alumni magazine interview

The publicity train steams on. After a year of plotting, LSA Magazine (which goes out to all U-M alumni who were in the College of Literature, Science, and the Arts) features a three-page interview on me and The Prairie Girl's Guide to Life. The editor who interviewed me, Lara Zielin, was a delight (and my new best friend) and I'm tickled pink by the results, although I might have been a bit too forthcoming about my life. Download the entire article (scroll down to "Alumni" and click on "The Prairie Queen."

The hits keep on coming

I just received another etsy package, this time from XO Handworks. I noticed that Tam had Nancy Drew pendants on her page and then when I investigated further, I noticed she was using text from my book, Nancy Drew's Guide to Life, on the back. So I immediately ordered up a pendant (she's graciously including a credit line with the pendant descriptions). I also asked her to make me a pendant using a section of map from my hometown of Benton Harbor. Being the heart of the fruit belt, she added a cluster of cherries to the back. I'm wearing the Michigan pendant right now and I absolutely love it, seeing as how all the significant towns are representing on this little piece of map: Benton Harbor, where I lived during high school; St. Joe, where I went to high school; Coloma, where my mom and stepdad now live; Stevensville, where my dad and stepmom now live; and Sodus, the tiny farm community where I spent my formative years B.D. (before the divorce) shucking lima beans and swinging from ropes in the barn. Thanks, Tam!

While on the subject of my humble Michigan origins...

Check out this NPR story on my hometown that aired last week. A world-class golf course in Benton Harbor; is hell freezing over?

Flower therapy

I got back to Seattle on Monday night, after an emotional roller-coaster trip to Michigan. My stepbrother Paul passed away unexpectedly, so we were all grieving even as we gathered to celebrate my dad and stepmom's 25th anniversary. I thought once I got back here, I'd be able to pull myself together and refocus on my writing and business.

It hasn't exactly worked out that way.

I'm doing dumb things like walking the wrong way down the sidewalk or layering a pizza in the wrong order. After finishing a big deadline on Wednesday, I totally lost it and slid into a self-indulgent stress spiral. I've snapped at friends. I went to a women's networking party last night and had to slink away after gritting my teeth for an hour. A master wheeler-dealer, in that moment, I knew talking to strangers was the last thing I wanted to do.

I'm feeling better. I'm regrouping. But I haven't been exactly motivated to write.

Until I saw the daffodils.

I'm sitting in Cupcake Royale and there's a bouquet of mixed daffodils at the cash wrap. And as soon as I saw them, I thought of my grandma.

Growing up in a ranch-style house next to my grandparents' farmhouse, I would often walk over to their place to get away from my brothers (usually, it was because I wanted to watch The Waltons and they wouldn't relinquish control of the TV). The grassy path took me between the shed and the barn, past oak and pine trees, and, in the spring, by bunch after bunch of daffodils. My grandma liked crocuses just fine but it was daffodils that I remember trumpeting spring. She had every variety, too, from the palest white petals with an orange center to bright yellow ones. I hope the barista didn't think me too weird when I sniffed the bouquet, for even the smell brings back comforting memories of Michigan and searching for Easter eggs in the flower beds.

I have never liked the color yellow but cheery daffodils always get a pass. They remind me of home, and that always puts a spring in my step.

Prairie crafts at the library

My talk and pioneer craft night at the Maud Preston Palenske Memorial (i.e. the St. Joe) Library last night was a big hit. I'd say about 30 gals of all ages showed up and after I chatted about my childhood growing up in Sodus, Michigan, reading and scraping up my knees chasing after my brothers, and my writing career, we got down to the crafts. Pat Peterson from the library staff did a wonderful job, preparing instructions and supplies so gals could try their hand at quilting, rug hooking, braiding rag rugs, embroidering, sewing a small purse, making rock candy, mixing up a rosewater spritzer, and playing jacks. Robin from Forever Books sold copies of The Prairie Girl's Guide to Life and Backcountry Betty and I was happy to sign copies and chat with the girls and the grownups.

It was delightful. Even more delightful were the people who showed up. I went to a Christmas dance in high school with Eric Ford (he was so smart and dreamy) and his mom Judy showed up to have me sign a copy for him, now a cancer researcher at Johns Hopkins. My dad's smooth friend Russell swung by. Mom's friend Mary came and presented me with the shirt I gave her to hem at the Christmas Eve Open House. Virginia Handy pulled out all sorts of photos and information about her family, who lived across the street from me growing up (in fact, it was her half-brother Paul who introduced my parents).

And then, toward the end of the event, something miraculous happened. I received a phone call through the library: it was my wonderful English teacher Jane Lindenmuth, calling from Holland, Michigan, where she recently retired. She only knew about the signing because her husband saw an article about the event on the Herald-Palladium website. I had tried to call her earlier in the week but without luck, since I didn't know she had moved. So it was a marvelous gift to hear from her (I immediately recognized her voice on the phone) and I can't wait to catch up with her properly.

Thanks again to the wonderful library staff and Forever Books for being so supportive and enthusiastic about The Prairie Girl's Guide to Life. It all started here in Michigan and it's nice to know it continues here as well.

Happy Holidays!

From our second trip to the Four Winds Casino. The first trip was on Christmas Day. Merry Christmas, indeed!

Go Lakers!

The Lake Michigan Catholic High School crew (I'll just say we graduated during an era of neon and Rick Astley and rocked out the blackwatch plaid skirts with lots of hairspray and crazy earrings): Maria, Donna, Sheila, and me. We have aged well, if I do say so myself. Must be all that clean livin' and dancing to rad 80s music.

Scenes from a blue-collar open house

A few photos from my mom's Christmas Even open house. Why write much when pictures say it all?

First up, a battered jar of whiskey cherries from 1990. Potent. Jim and I sampled a few vintages around 4pm. After a couple, I realized I was going to have to pace myself to make it to the end of the evening without passing out.

Then a photo of mom and me. This is what happens when you eat the whiskey cherries.

Terry brought about 10 pounds of venison stew in a Crockpot. He's on the left, my stepdad Jim is in the middle, and Toby is on the right, standing by the door to the back porch, where he planted himself for most of the evening. I visited with him every time I went to the pantry for another gin and tonic.

Then we've got the ladies: my stepaunt Pat, stepsister Denise, Legion friend Mary, stepniece Megan, and mom Judy. They are a fine-looking group of gals.

Legion post commander Pete stopped by with his daughter Crystal and her beau Nick, an aspiring writer.






"Jason, do you make Kelly walk behind you all the time?" I thought I was hilarious.

Kelly thought I was mildly amusing (check out her $9 Steve and Barrys sweatshirt! I am jealous!).

Mom and Mary are great friends. A handy seamstress (I am jealous of her too), Mary took home a nightshirt I bought at Old Navy and is going to transform it into a shirt for me.

And then there's mom and me. It was a great party, and we were a bit tired (i.e. corned) at this point. Merry Christmas to us.

The memories keep on comin'

My book signing at Forever Books was a whopping success yesterday, both personally and professionally. My mom and I spent the morning going to 10 places before hitting the signing (hairdresser, party store, Staples, Steve & Barrys, JC Penney, Gordons Food Service, Angelo's liquor store, Rite Aid, Schu's for lunch, and the dime store). I realize that I get my need to be productive and highly scheduled at all times from her. I am a novice practicing at the feet of the master!

Anyway, the signing. Mom was there, of course, but my dad (the photo is of mom and dad—see the resemblance?), stepmom, step-aunt, step-cousins, and step-grandmother all represented. Then Lake Michigan Catholic High School classmates Kelly, Jennifer, and Sheila all showed up to support me. I am truly blessed to have had such cool and caring women in my life, both then and now. Man, I used to love going to Jennifer's (then Jenny Rice's) home in junior high. Her basement was tricked out with a pool table, Intellivision, and some old version of plinko, and her house had a Betamax (we watched Zuma Beach with Suzanne Somers over and over) and a pool. It was a sweet crib.

Anyway, right after the signing, mom scooted me out of St. Joe so we could get back, prep dinner, and get to the Legion for some more socializing and storytelling. I heard a few things about my stepdad that I'm having a hard time blotting out of my mind, but overall it was a good, productive, and highly entertaining day.

Today was spent with my stepfamily, opening gifts and eating. I videotaped my stepbrother Jay talking about his love of the Cubs, and my dad and stepmom talking about their first date and wedding day. With all the activity, it's no surprise I sacked out on the magic sofa until it was time to drive to the beach to check out the wicked whitecaps (the wind has been relentless all day), as well as light displays along the St. Joe bluff and various neighborhoods (some folks can still afford to pay huge electric bills, bless their hearts). Now chilling back at home, I'm finding a moment of quiet. But in the spirit of Midwestern industriousness, I'm finishing up knitting a scarf before turning in.

Digestive digest

About two hours after the last post, I rethought the wisdom of the hot dog bar. Perhaps my enthusiasm for the chili cheese dog AND a ketchup-mustard-onion combo was misguided. Burp.

Scenes from a blue-collar Friday night

A few photos from the Legion post 362. Pete Petric (the current commander) hosted a hot dog bar tonight. My stepdad Jim sprung for my mom and me: it cost the three of us $8 to eat five hot dogs, loaded up with chili, cheese, relish, onions, ketchup, mustard, olives, hot peppers, and more (not all on one dog, obviously). Life is good.

Pictures include photos of me and my mom, me and high school classmate Kelly Robinson, the bulletin board featuring my brother John (who's currently serving in Kuwait), and, my favorite, the signage in the right stall of the ladies' room: "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat." Word.

Michigan, Where the beer is cold and the people are warm

Ah, finally, the holidays are here (in a good way).

After 14 hours of travel (that included a three-hour layover in Vegas that netted me $150 on video poker), I arrived in Michigan late last night, exhausted and cranky.

Today is another story. I woke up refreshed and, after taking mom to work, I drove her car, complete with “Mrs. Eck” personalized plates (my stepdad’s last name is Eckelbarger and he goes by “Eck” for short), over to St. Joe so I could hunker down at a coffee shop and work.

I did some online research at Caffe Tosi for a spell, my dad came by for a visit, and even though I have three different deadlines to hit by Friday, I was really enjoying myself. I took a break and stopped by the bookstore where I’m signing books on Saturday. I chatted at length with a woman in a local artists’ coop. I poked my head into the paint-your-own-pottery place to visit high school classmate Stephanie Hosbein (she owns the shop). She is going to try to swing by my signing and wants me to bring her some Prairie Girl Potions to check out.

I freakin' love Michigan. Folks are so nice. They take time to talk, whether they know you or not.

I went down to the beach and took some photos of the North Pier before doing some Christmas shopping and meeting up with my mom for a drink (or two) at the Legion (post 362). My brother’s photo was on the bulletin board with various well wishes (John is stationed in Kuwait). My stepdad Jim was playing poker and we sat at the bar with Kelly Robinson, another high school classmate who is active at the Legion and who set up my mom’s computer at home. (Thank you, Kelly, for bringing my mom into the 21st century.) I finally feel as if I am experiencing the holidays. I’m talking with people, drawing stories out of them (like how my stepdad proposed to my mom at the kitchen sink or how my brother rifled through his wife’s glove compartment on their first date). I even got some great stories out of the woman at the artists’ coop, who is going to try to come with her artsy teenage son (who takes tea outside every evening at his boarding school) to my talk at the library next week. Forget presents: these experiences are my real gifts. I’m totally addicted.

Ask your family a few questions about high school, likes and dislikes, how they met their spouse or significant other, childhood crushes, or what they wanted to be when they grew up. You might be surprised at the answers!

Happy holidays, wherever you may be. Stay tuned for more Michigan posts…

Making Michigan memories

In the spirit of the holidays (that is, hyping my book and craft appearances), I wanted to let you know that I'll be signing copies of The Prairie Girl's Guide to Life at Forever Books in downtown St. Joseph, Michigan this Saturday (12/22) from 1 to 3pm. If you are in town or anywhere in Southwestern Michigan, please stop by and say hey. I'd love to see you. Afterwards, we can get coffee and walk to the bluff and look at the lighthouse for about 60 seconds until the wind coming off the lake feels like it is cutting our cheeks. Good times.

Where: Forever Books, 312 State St. St. Joseph, Michigan
When: Saturday, December 22, 1–3pm

Smells like football...

It's a gorgeous breezy day here in Seattle and it just feels like football weather. I can sense the change in the season and I always love the shift into fall. I think of changing leaves, homecoming, the smell of a wood fire and sharpened pencils, and roadtrips into the country.

I don't think about Appalachian State beating my Michigan Wolverines.

Goodbye #5 ranking, hello b-list bowl game. I think I'll go back to reading the Fall fashion preview issue of Vogue and watching the America's Next Top Model marathon on MTV. There are other delights to be had in the autumn months.

The D list

When people ask me what my hometown is, I always pause, thinking, "Well, technically, my first years were spent in Sodus, Michigan, but then I moved into Benton Harbor but I went to school in St. Joe, but maybe I should just say Southwestern Michigan, not far from Kalamazoo, because people might actually know where that is." By the time I settle on Benton Harbor, my head hurts.

So you can imagine my delight, when watching Kathy Griffin's Life on the D-List, a Bravo TV guilty pleasure, to find her sitting in a restaurant in Benton Harbor. She was doing a gig later that night at Lake Michigan College (or LMC, which was always confusing, since I went to Lake Michigan Catholic, also LMC). Now, I only remember going to LMC to research a term paper and to perform in several plays on their stage since my high school didn't have a theater (my stage career started with a Tri-Parish production of Godspell the summer before my freshman year and ended with my unforgettable performance in Don't Drink the Water, a role for which I channeled my inner Edith Bunker).

But those weren't the only memories Kathy's visit conjured up. When she sent her assistant to wait tables at Texas Corral, I sort of fell off the couch. I had a high school reunion last summer and I got to be the girl I never was in high school: life of the party, flirt, lush. I swear I was drunk for 72 hours. It was glorious. I felt free. (Of course, this only lasted until I got to the airport in South Bend, but it was nice taking a break from my serious, worried self). As a teenager, I was so focused on getting out of town and leaving this world behind that I opted out of nights spent TP-ing Mr. Carr's house or drinking at the beach or cruising the mall.

But not during that reunion weekend. During the pre-reunion festivities at Babe's Lounge, I drank, played pool, flirted with Rhonda Winters' brother, as well as with Bill King. Bill came from farm country as well, and back in fifth grade, he was my boyfriend for a hot second. But nothing ever came of it.

Until that reunion weekend. Before I left town, Bill and I went out by ourselves, chowing down at the Texas Corral, drinking margaritas, and catching up. With his baseball cap pulled low, he told me about his divorce, his job, his daughter, and I could see the life that I rejected. Honestly, it didn't look too shabby; it just wasn't mine. But I'm happy to visit a couple times a year, especially if it includes a trip to Texas Corral. That there is some good eatin'.