NEW RELEASES
In Our Humble Opinion…if it’s easier to beg forgiveness than get permission, then we’d like to go on record now with, “We’re really very sorry, really we are.”
Or we’re hoping to be adopted
The festival was a huge success. Yea to all us hard-working, long-suffering festival workers.
My panel went pretty well – I guess. My Sisters made sure I went potty before so I didn’t fidget. No one chucked rotten fruit at me so that’s a win in my book. I got laughs when I was hoping for them and didn’t when I was serious. There were nods from the audience so what I was saying must have been making sense.
Kelli’s hard work also when over well. Her slide show presentation was fun and thought provoking.
There were moments there when we felt like we must actually be writers.
For us, though, the best parts of the festival, without a doubt, is interacting with the famous and not so famous authors. Writers are funny people. I know of no other arty type who are more self-effacing and unsure of their own abilities than writers. It seems we are always amazed when people like our work.
I made six runs to the airport on Friday. I’m fairly certain I did not drive anywhere at the legal speed limit. A couple of times, like when I made it from the airport to La Paloma and back to the airport in 65 minutes, I might have broken the sound barrier.
Even with all that kinetic activity, and the amount of $3.65 gasoline I went through in my gas hog, I still had a great time. I picked up Iris Johanson and her son, an author in his own right, and they were just the nicest people. She was exactly what you’d expect from one of the classic romance divas of the 1980’s – tiny little woman dressed to the nines
Ava and Rachel Gibson
with a face full of artfully applied make-up and big Atlanta blond hair. She chattered away non-stop and I liked her immensely. Her son, too, was very genial. How he, at no less than 6 feet 4 inches, came out of such a tiny woman is beyond me. I got big bear hugs when I left them at their hotel.
Brenda Novak, Rachel Gibson, Chris Marie Green, Zoe Archer, Angela Knight and Lauren Willig were all so much fun and encouraging you just want to eat them all up, buy all their books and make sure everyone you know does the same.
However, the best and most amusing exchanges were to be had with Elmore and Peter (his son the writer) Leonard.
Smiling Elmore and ridiculously unphotogenic Amylynn
Elmore couldn’t be more adorable and curmudgeonly at the same time. At 87 years old the man is still putting out books on a very regular schedule. We think he’s been putting out books at least one a year since like 1950. He’s written things even people who don’t know Elmore Leonard know. Things like 3:10 to Yuma, Hombre with Paul Newman, Get Shorty with John Travolta, Jackie Brown directed by Quintin Tarantino. The man can write dialogue like nobody’s business. I’ve long been a fan, Kelli will be when she’s done reading the book she just bought and Ava realized she was a fan already.
That brings us to our conversations with the Leonards.
Kelli and Ava were with me when I picked them both up for their festival appearances on Saturday morning. We chattered away in the car and all was smooth until we arrived in the parking garage. Elmore slid out of the back seat and immediately lit up a cigarette.
“You shouldn’t smoke,” Ava informed him.
“I’ve been smoking for 67 years,” Elmore told her.
Kelli & Elmore after Ava finally figured out the camera
“Then this is the perfect time to quit.” Ava wasn’t giving up.
Elmore snorted.
“Pssst,” Kelli hissed at our Sister. “What are you doing?”
“What?” Ava can act remarkably innocent when she puts her mind to it. She looked down at her sandaled feet. “He was concerned about my feet being cold. If he’s worried about my health, I can be worried about his.”
“He’s 87 years old. He’s a famous author. Leave him alone.” Kelli used her stern eyes.
“How famous?” Ava asked. “Really famous?”
“Yeah.”
“Like world famous?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Ava finally understood at the end of the day when she was watching TV and an ad for Justified came on. “Oh, hey,” she said to Ed, “that’s the guy I told to stop smoking today.”
“Elmore Leonard?” He said with his mouth hanging open. “You told Elmore Leonard to stop smoking?”
Ava could only shrug.
It didn’t get better. On Sunday morning it was just me and Kelli in the car. I had to ask Elmore to sign six books. One for me and five for Brenda Novak’s Diabetes Auction because she’s shy. Elmore is ridiculously gracious about signing. Kelli and I witnessed him sign every single book brought in front of him at a signing. Some of these people had three cases of the same book and he didn’t bat an eye.
The trip from his hotel to the venue was only seven minutes or so but it was lively. Peter and Elmore sat in the back seat.
“Did you just run a red light?” Elmore asked me.
“No,” I said with emphasis. “I did not just run a red light.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure you just ran a red light.” He was very calm about it if I did.
“I did not just run a red light. Even if I did, I would still say I didn’t. When the cop pulls me over, I’d really appreciate it if you’d chime in from the back seat that, no, I did not run that red light.”
Elmore shrugged and nodded in agreement. I might be in love with him, just a little bit. For the record, I did not run that red light. I am 100% confident about that assertion.
He’s definitely now one of the chosen Patron Saints of the Quill Sisters.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . the Tucson Festival of Books is the greatest book fair in the world.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . no one should yell at you for buying 16 books at TFOB and that includes the phrase “Where the hell are you going to put all of those?!”
In Our Humble Opinion . . . the best booth at TFOB this year was by the Saguaro Romance Writers – those ladies are fabulous!
In Our Humble Opinion . . . making Brenda Novak inscribe your book at TFOB with “To my bestest friend” isn’t creepy – it’s FUN.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . it’s impolite to attempt to kidnap Rachel Gibson at TFOB but, hey, it is Rachel Gibson!
March 9
Time marches onward. Politics gets crazier. Hockey teams blow their lead and make frustrated fans want to cry. Book festivals come and go. Despondent authors become even more so and consider it as a new career choice. And so it goes. Thank Zeus for these five things.
- Penguin #337.First let’s give the guy a more dignified name. #337 is unacceptable. We say either Bernard or Juliet. The authorities at the Tokoyo Aquarium are unsure of the sex of the penguin – but then they
Fly, little Bernard/Juliet. Fly!
are ignorant about a lot of things when it comes to #337. Apparently, the tubby little waddler scaled a thirteen foot wall, squeezed between some fence and made a bid for freedom. All of this with no thumbs! The aquarium folk are a little panicky and they’ve basically put out a citywide APB. I suspect its face to show up on milk cartons. The officials suspect #337 escaped due to its “curiosity and yearning for adventure.” You go little #337! The theme song today will be Lust for Life by Iggy Pop. Let’s hope no polar bears escape while he’s still out. If they meet up it’s a sure sign of the apocalypse. Never fear, we’re jumping on a plane right now to help with the search.
- Piffle. The sisters love funny words. Remember kerfuffle and snackeral? Piffle
has been around since 1878 and means “to talk or act in a trivial, inept, or ineffective way.” If there was ever a word to describe the sisters . . . This is not a new word for us, but it’s always fun when you meet up with an old friend in an unexpected way. Like going to your class reunion and finding someone you forgot all about and rediscovering that they are charming and funny – not that the Sisters are anticipating this actually happening this summer during one of their own reunions. Anyway, piffle wandered back into our lives in a WSJ political commentary about Rick Santorum. Kathleen Parker referred to his recent comments about higher education as “pure pandering piffle.” Bravo Ms. Parker. Bravo. - OREOS. Oreo turned 100 this week. Have you ever eaten a 100 year old
Oreo? Us neither but we suspect it’s still yummy. Whatever they make that white stuff out of isn’t natural but we don’t really care. If one has to buy cookies then Oreos is the way to go. Amylynn doesn’t agree with the concept of either dunking them in milk (or dunking ANYTHING in milk. **shudder** There are all kinds of issues with texture there) or pulling the wafers apart to eat the middle first. She contends that the best way is to shove the whole thing in your hungry maw at once so your whole mouth is overwhelmed with flavor. Then, and only then, wash it down with freezing cold milk. Same 
goes for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups but that’s a different birthday. Happy Birthday, Oreo. Snacks for everyone! - Lamborghini Aventador Jota. Take a look at this car would you? Did it make you all slobbery, too, or is that left over from #3? This little bit of gorgeousness sold for 2.75 million dollars to an unknown gazillionaire. It is the only one made and may, quite possibly, never be duplicated. It tops out at around 180 mph. That will get you to the store to buy Oreos super fast. As a friend said when she saw it, “You can’t go wrong with a red dress and black stilettos.” As far as we’re concerned, that’s a pretty damn apt description of the lovely Ms. Aventador.
dripping with honey - it's a Homor Simpson moment.
- Sopapillas. If you have to spend quality time in New Mexico like Amylynn and Ava have to do from time to time you quickly discover that the restaurants bring you sopapillas WITH EVERY MEAL. WITHOUT YOU EVEN ASKING. We’re not sure you’re grasping the magnitude of what we’re telling you here. The waiter will bring you dessert without you even asking! It just appears there like magic with the salsa. It may truly be the most miraculous thing since we don’t know what. Those New Mexicans have really got something going on there and we think, if Newt really wants the nomination, he should add that concept to his platform. Quickly before some crazy-ass pundit comes out against dessert, calls it a slut, and we all have to take sides on something so basic as happiness. It’s a choice, people. Embrace it.
