New Blog

I have a new blog. I will definitely make an effort to post there more than once a year. I'm going to keep this blog up so I can still post comments on other blogs at this site.

If you're looking for my latest novel, Whiskey Road: A Love Story, it will be published May 2008 as a trade paperback original. Only 13 bucks! I'm currently working on books 4 and 5 and tearing my hair out.

Meanwhile, visit my new Blog, my Website, or my MySpace page for updates.

Why is This Night Different From All Other Nights?

It's our last night in Brooklyn. We're moving to Manhattan tomorrow.

I've lived in Brooklyn my entire life. Except for the time I "moved" to Switzerland and Oahu.
I was 18 when I went to Switzerland to stay with my cousins for three months. It was a "finding myself" kind of trip. I bought an open ticket (not realizing a person needs a work permit in order to stay in a country longer than 6 months.) The plan was to stay for three months as a tourist, and forever if I found a job, an apartment and a few cool friends.

Unfortunately, I was young and liked candy. I ended up spending way too much cash during a visit with a penpal in Holland. We took an impromptu trip to visit another penpal in Torino Italy and went a little wild eating gelato three times a day and cavorting.

The rest of my cash was spent in Switzerland, mailing boxes of chocolate to my family. Everything I tasted I bought eight of and mailed to NY. It was ridiculous. The Swiss postal clerk in the small town my relatives (still) live in hated me. My three month visit was over after 6 weeks.

I don't regret it. What's the fun in being a kid if you can't spend your money on candy?

Oahu also lasted 6 weeks. That was more of a permanent visit than Switzerland since my boyfriend at the time bought me a one-way ticket and planned to marry me if things worked out. But I hate the sun and I hate beaches, so I was miserable in Hawaii and he was miserable with me. I was 19. He was in his 30s. It was an awkward relationship. His best friend was a millionaire and we spent every minute on (really beautiful) golf courses. Now I'd probably love it. At the time, I was bored. The beauty wasn't lost on me. I took thousands of pictures. But I felt there had to be more to Oahu-with-a-millionaire than golf.

(I still dream about the heaven that is Oahu and regret that I was spoiled and 19 when I lived there.)

Anyway, my husband and I have found a new place to live and we move tomorrow. Our rent has tripled. For the first time ever, I understand why he never wanted to leave our hell hole apartment unless it was to buy a place. This is like throwing away thousands of dollars we've busted our asses to make.

Sure, I still believe peace of mind is more important than price of apartment, but NYC rent is insulting. There's no excuse for this.

But desperate folks can't be choosy. The buyer's market is strange in Manhattan. We've been searching for two years. Everything is tiny and expensive. And even if we found a place worth buying, it would take 2 - 6 months to close.

When you're ready to leave Hell, you're ready. Two - six months can feel like eternity.

Event.

I will be reading from my new novel, Whiskey Road, on November 11th. Details will be available at karensiplin.com soon.

AVIVA will be in Alexandria, VA on Sat., Nov. 11, 2006 from Noon – 5:00 PM and you are invited.

AVIVA is a showcase marketplace featuring ethnic clothing, jewelry, pampering products, books, art and more offered for sale by local merchants.

AVIVA is an opportunity to enjoy the inspirational poetry of Gregory Boykin.

AVIVA is an opportunity to meet and discuss books with two Bestselling Authors: Karen Siplin and Karen E. Quinones Miller.

You have enjoyed their books and it is wonderful to let them know that in person. Get your books signed and buy some new ones, at AVIVA.

AVIVA is a musical performance by Saleem Waters, who has performed all over the world with his unique percussion sounds.

Come to AVIVA for an exceptional afternoon.

FREE FABULOUS AVIVA TOTE-BAGS TO THE FIRST 100 REGISTRANTS.

ThisisChickLit.com!

This is Chick-Lit has a site. And there are message boards.

And I think it looks pretty.

Quiet.

My husband and I are preparing to make an unexpected move from Brooklyn into Manhattan and we have way too much stuff. I've packed my books into 33 boxes. I haven't even started on the DVDs and videos. I keep asking myself why we have so many movies on VHS. DVDs are so much easier to deal with. Sure, we had no idea DVDs would exist when we were buying videos, but...why do two people need two copies of Q&A on video? I didn't even like the movie!

My husband has lived in this two-bedroom Park Slope rental for 15 years. I've lived here for 9. Yeah, that's a long time. Too long. It's funny how that looks good to management companies when you're looking for a new home to rent, but terrible when you tell it to people in a social setting. Same place for 15 years? Where's your sense of adventure?

We've never lived anywhere else as a couple. That's because the rent was cheap and we couldn't stand the thought of leaving a small two-bedroom apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn to pay triple the amount for an even smaller one-bedroom somewhere else.

But here's my new favorite phrase: Peace of mind is more important than price of apartment.

We've never loved our upstairs neighbor. She's never loved us. Every year I lived there has been uncomfotable, awkward, downright unpleasant. She's been renovating her duplex since May. About three weeks ago we noticed brown stains on one of the walls in our apartment. We mentioned it to her contractor and a couple days later he came down to have a look. Immediately he said he thought it was her toilet.

Toilet? How can that be, we said. Her toilet's on the opposite side of the room, directly above our bathroom.

Oh no, he said. We moved the toilet here, directly above your washer/dryer unit.

And the kicker?

The contractor admitted he hadn't used a plumber to do the job.

This guy, he said. He didn't know what he was doing, you know? He maybe put the pipes in wrong and everytime she flush it come down.

So the brown stains?

Yes, he said. I sorry. We come back to make sure.

He didn't come back. Two days later we called our neighbor to ask what was going on. She said her contractor wasn't sure what the problem was, but he didn't think it was her toilet. She was sure one of our pipes broke and it had nothing to do with her renovation.

We took pictures. My husband brought the pictures up to her. Her contractor returned two days later with a friend. Without warning, this friend climbed up on my washing machine and I said, panicked, Are you breaking the ceiling? Should a move everything out of the way?

Uh, yeah, you better move your stuff out of the way.

I started moving stuff and he started breaking the ceiling. In a matter of seconds, stuff started gushing down on him and he started cursing. Stuff, actually, is putting it kindly. It was my upstairs neighbor's shit.

You got a bucket or something? the guy said. He was angry. I got him a bucket and he used it to catch the shit.

Shit.

My husband came home in the middle of this and we started asking questions. It was the toilet. And they would fix it. In a week. First they had to let the wall dry. And then they'd tear it all down and rebuild it. And then they left.

This happened that very hot week in July and it wasn't until the men left that we realized we'd be stuck with an open ceiling, dripping sewage, during a heatwave. We went to Lowes at 10pm to replace the bucket and buy cleaning supplies. We ran into our upstairs neighbor on our way back and told her she'd have to pay for everything. She freaked out, telling us we weren't handling the situation well - that we should be nicer about it. I should point out that we weren't being mean about it, but our neighbor has control issues and telling her she had to do something really set her off.

After the argument, I looked at my husband with a look that said I've had enough.

So we're moving.

Bull Riders in New York City.

PBR in the City...

OLN and The Professional Bull Riders, Inc. (PBR) are proud to announce that the elite Built Ford Tough Series presented by Wrangler (BFTS) will make its debut in New York City at Madison Square Garden. The Versus Invitational presented by Amp’d Mobile will kick off the 2007 BFTS season on January 6 with two performances at 2 p.m. and 8 p.m. and one performance on January 7 at 1 p.m. OLN, the cable home of the PBR, is the title sponsor of the event, which reflects the network’s new moniker - Versus.

I've been trying to attend something like this for over a year, but felt traveling to Wyoming to do so would be a little extreme. Actually, they were at one of the casinos in Connecticut last year, but I missed them.

I don't know much about bull riding. Last year I caught a glimpse of Lee Akin competing on ESPN and was hooked. He's adorable, and he gave me the idea for for my next novel. (Or the novel after the next one. I haven't decided yet.) The thing is, I don't understand the sport. It looks like it hurts. A lot. I can't even explain why I'm so fascinated by it. It's not because I'm a cowboy groupie. I guess it's the complete otherness that keeps my eyes glued to the TV screen.

I just can't imagine what 34th Street in Manhattan will look like on January 6th and 7th. Apparently, bull riding is big in New Jersey, but NYC still seems like an odd choice for a PBR event.

Here are my city-girl thoughts on what to expect at this event I plan to attend:

Attendees will be wearing cowboy boots and cowboy hats.

I'll feel like an idiot if I wear my fantastic 10 year old cowboy boots.

I'll be the only black woman there.

I shouldn't buy the $125 first row tickets, but the $85 or $50 second row tickets near the exit. If a bull escapes into the seating area, we're outta there!

There's No Such Thing As Bad Publicity...right?

The radio thing didn't go so well for the This is Chick Lit contingent. And at the risk of sounding a tad bitter, I think that's because neither chick on the radio show read the book.

To this I say: It's better than getting slammed.

Seriously. I'm not saying they didn't read This is Chick Lit because I believe we're beyond bad reviews. It just seemed like Sara and the host were doing the dance of avoidance. Not talking about something they didn't know a lot about.

The host did end the piece by saying she preferred the other collection. But she also admitted to only reading part of that collection. (She hadn't even finished the first story, but knew she liked it.) She never mentioned attempting any of the chick lit stories. Sara didn't mention reading any of the chick lit stories either.

Shouldn't that render the discussion null and void?

I mean, if two dudes on the radio are discussing the rift between Manhattan and Brooklyn, and both dudes spend the entire twenty minutes discussing what's great about Manhattan, wouldn't you assume both dudes don't know anything about Brooklyn? Or that they both came into the discussion preferring Manhattan? Which is fine. You can prefer Manhattan. Or Not Chick Lit. But what good is a vs. discussion when the people doing the dicussing are on the same side?

Journalists reviewing and discussing things they haven't "had time" to thoroughly research has always been one of my pet peeves. I'm guilty of it, but I don't have my own radio show and I don't edit a major publication. I commit this faux pas at dinner parties and in the privacy of my own home, and I bet I'll do it on this blog. Years ago, I refused to finish watching a play I was meant to write a college paper on. My professor wouldn't allow me to write about a play I hadn't finished watching. Because it would be unfair to the artist. I failed the class. (I had no business taking a theater course anyway.) I should have.

Both women touched on issues worth discussing. Like, aren't the women in the other collection cashing in on the chick-lit phrase? (Something chick-lit writers have been pointing out since news of the other collection came out.) And, what is literary fiction?

The host also pointed out that people who are put in a box by the majority tend to turn on each other. I agree. But both women failed to mention that the This is Chick Lit chicks didn't start this. We just want to write what we love to write and read what we love to read. Chick-lit writers routinely embrace lit chicks while some lit chicks say they'd like to "stab [our] characters in the eyes with cocktail sticks." (Um. Okay.)

In This is Chick Lit, we each choose a "lit book" we want chick-lit readers to try. (I chose Liquor by Poppy Z. Brite.) The other chicks...didn't. Because "the original short stories in [that] collection touch on some of the same themes as chick lit – the search for love and identity – but they do so with extraordinary power, creativity, and range..."

So why read chick-lit when you can read..chick-lit that's not?

And on a literary note, the Edward P. Jones story in this week's New Yorker is wonderful. It's called Bad Neighbors.

This is Chick-Lit on Air America.

Today, August 2, Publisher's Weekly editor Sara Nelson will be live on Air America Morning Radio at 8:30 am (Eastern). She will remark on the debate regarding women's literary fiction vs. chick-lit, specifically discussing This is NOT Chick-Lit (Random House, August 2006) and THIS IS CHICK-LIT (BenBella Books, September 2006) respectively.

In NYC, Air America can be found on your AM dial at 1190.

This is Chick-Lit.

We've received our first review for This is Chick-Lit from Bust Magazine (August/September issue). Bust Magazine is a publication I know nothing about, but a quick Google search tells me it's "a pop culture feminist publication from New York, NY."

Like a lot of snotty literary types, I have often sneered at chick lit …
I’m here to tell you: I was wrong.

That's how the review opens. And then the reviewer discusses This is Not Chick Lit and This is Chick Lit. The review is called Girl Fight.

I used to be a snotty literary type. Until I published my first novel. The only people who didn't ask why I was writing that kind of fiction were genre authors (romance, mystery, thriller, sci-fi), commercial authors, self-published authors and chick-lit authors. They just gave me much-needed support and I gained a new respect for them. Now I strive to be the same way.

There's a lot to be said for people who don't judge others by the covers of the books they choose to read. Or write.

And that's the key, isn't it? Choice.

My contribution to the anthology is called Nice Jewish Boy. It's about the only black woman at a bris searching for Mr. Right.