Happy Anniversary, Us - Part IV

Four years ago today, I married my best friend.

When I wrote my second novel, Simply Sara, one of the themes that developed was the idea of home, and how home isn't necessarily a place.

What I've discovered in this past year is exactly how true that is.  Since our last anniversary, we've lived in Eugene, Portland, Memphis, and Richland.  At some point in the future (and goodness knows when) we'll move again, this time across town into our freshly-built house.

We've lived with family, we've lived far from family. But no matter where we are, my home is wherever Danny is.  As much as I miss my family, my friends, and the trappings of familiarity, I need Danny more.  No matter how unsettled our living situation is, as long as I'm with him, I can manage.

The thing is, no matter where we are, Danny's feet are still ticklish.  He still consumes large quantities of ice cream and Hot Tamales.  He still complains when his hair gets too long and it flops in his face.  He still opens my car door.  He still reaches for my hand when we walk together. He's still taller than me, even if I'm in five-inch heels. His smile still lights up his face (I know it's a cliché, but it's true). His hug is still the one that truly makes things better.  We still get each other.  Our "us-ness" remains the same, even if our location has shifted.

He's my home, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Happy Anniversary, Us - Part III

Three years ago today, I married my best friend.

You'd think tickling his feet has gotten old by now, but it hasn't.

This year has been a wild ride. Danny worked overtime hours while completing a master's degree. I published and promoted one book while writing 92,000 of the most difficult words I've ever written.

Danny celebrated with me when my first book arrived, and a few days later, when a whole box of books followed. He made me laugh at the cover of the Large Print Edition, came to every book signing and event, helped set up and take down the books, poster, postcards, and punch bowl full of chocolates.

He was very, very angry when he read my worst book review. He beamed over my Publishers Weekly and Booklist reviews.

I got to go to Vermont with Danny and watch as he gained the respect of his classmates and professors during his masters residency. I pinned his masters hood in place, and saw him shake the dean's hand as he received his diploma.

I like the quiet moments best, though. Tea on Saturday mornings. Walks we take, hand in hand. Sitting on the couch, reading books with the windows open.

I like the funny bits that have become our own - the way grass makes us laugh, the way Danny eats cheese, the way I giggle over the phrase some say.

I like how Danny brings adventure into my life in ways I never thought would happen.

It hasn't been an easy year, but it's been a good one. I can't imagine what the next will hold.

Thoughts on and for Oscar Whiners

There's a lot of Oscar hate floating around. I don't get it.

I've watched the Oscars faithfully ever since I attended my aunt's Oscar Party while in Maui. My attendance was a forgone conclusion, since we were staying in her condo. I was sixteen. I wasn't into film, not yet, but I loved watching movies.

And I loved clothes. Loving the Oscars was a natural development.

I grew up, some. I went to college. A multi-media course introduced me to foreign and art films. The public library circulated DVDs for free. I got hooked on film.

In my mind, to love film is to love the Oscars. They're a celebration of the silver screen, of the best of Hollywood, of movie making.

No, they're not fair. The award of "Best Film" isn't necessarily for the best film of the year, but the best buzz, the best momentum. The best out of five (now ten) films, but not necessarily the best overall.

Whatever. To the people who beef about the unfairness of it all, I have three words.

Get. Over. It.

Award unfairness is nothing new. They were unfair when Judy Garland lost to Grace Kelly in 1954. Accept it. Deal with it. Move on.

Instead, revel in the good moments. Halle Berry's win over Sissy Spacek and Nicole Kidman in 2001, Marion Cotillard beating Julie Christie in 2007. Glen Hansard and Market Irglova (now the band "Swell Season") winning best song, "Falling Slowly," from Once. Jennifer Hudson winning Best Supporting Actress for Dreamgirls. Roberto Benigni, Best Actor for Life is Beautiful (and the leaping that ensued, now classic footage). Adrian Brody for The Pianist. Shakespeare in Love for Best Picture.

The Oscars aren't perfect. But they're a lot of fun.

Still not feeling the love? Click away -

From the Vault

A Comedian at the Oscars

Hugh Jackman's 2009 Opening (with Anne Hathaway)

Some Swell Season Love

2009 Best Song Medley

Roberto!

For my sister

A presenter with a reputation

For the DWTS fans out there

Happy Anniversary, Us - Part II

Two years ago today, I married my best friend.

I loved being married for a year. I've loved being married for two years even more.

Part of me wonders if Danny and I will be able to read each other's minds by next year. We know each other so well, can read expressions and body language and tonality so well that telepathy can't be far behind.

But on the other hand, we still manage to surprise each other. At least, Danny still surprises me. He'll goof off to make me laugh and I'll think, where did that come from? Followed by, I hope he'll do that again...

I was at a gathering a few months ago, and found myself asked (rather inappropriately) if the honeymoon was over. I honestly didn't know what to say for a few moments. Clearly, we had returned from our post-wedding vacation, not taking the year-long break advised in the old testament (if only we herded sheep with our families, that might have worked).

So if it wasn't a logistical question, it had to be emotional. Do I still love my husband like crazy? Of course. Am I aware of his faults? Better yet, is he deeply aware of mine? Certainly. Of course. And we're still nuts about each other.

I think Hollywood and fiction writers (bless them all) would have us believe that love and romance is found in meet-cutes and grand gestures. What the film Up got so right was that the little moments, even the boring moments, are the ones that matter, the ones we remember.

The walks. The lazy mornings. Sitting on the couch just reading. Dancing in the living room and sorting laundry (not at the same time) - those moments make up a marriage.

I have loved teaching Sunday School with Danny, watching him play cars and tea party with our class. I've loved celebrating and struggling through the process of publishing together. I love the look on his face when I bring him a fizzy drink from the grocery store, and the way he still opens my car door. I love how pleased he is with himself when he successfully flips a pan full of hashbrowns with a flick of the wrist. I love how we read books together. I love that I got him hooked on oatmeal cookies.

I love that we're married to each other. It's nice.

I love you, sensibly

I'm starting to think that I kind of suck at writing romance. This is a problem, because most editors in my genre want a romance storyline.

And I'm fine with that. I understand. Romance sells. I'll get them together in the end. It's just the drama I have trouble with.

Good romance, written, is all about drama. The thing is, though, is that the mark of a good realistic romance is the lack of drama. I mean, when you ask couples how they met, there's not a lot of "well, my dad was a mafia boss - you know how that goes" or "I almost moved to Saint Tropez, but then Fred ran on onto the tarmac and stood in front of the plane to stop me. That's how I knew." And rarer still, "There was this snafu with my inheritance, I had to marry someone within two days, thanks goodness I met Bob! The only problem was, he had an insane wife in the attic at the time..."

Here's what I've experienced with the two books I've worked on in the past, one completed, one nearly complete. I'm great when the two characters are not supposed to be together. Really great. Nice drama, superb tension (tension being the lifeblood of story).

But by the time I've cleared the obstacles (about two-thirds through the book) for these two to really, truly fall in love, what then? They fall in love. Big whoop.

I'm going to solve this, truly. And I have no concerns (no concerns, especially if my agent or editor is reading this) about my ability to craft a lovely little romance. But it's tricky, you know? This is a book about the Amish. Now, if I could only have some Canadian mobsters with a vampire or two while someone (the guy) gets hit by a car on the way to the Empire State Building, things would be a lot easier.

Happy Anniversary, Us

A year ago today, I married my best friend.

A whole year has gone by - we've experienced the joy of moving in together, adjusting to a life routine, being introduced as "The Lodges." For Halloween, Danny was a contractor; I was a fairy (children's book to follow). We negotiated hiding places for Christmas presents and picking the right Valentine's Day card (for the first time EVER, I had a date on Valentine's). We've read through The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hobbit, Howl's Moving Castle and The Belgariad.

We figured out what to do when the Mormons knocked on the door (it's happened twice now). That it's okay to rent an action flick and a chick flick and watch both together.

I love this man I married, for a lot of different reasons.

1. He can fix anything, from cars to microwaves to children's bubble toys.

2. He makes a terrific paper airplane.

3. He can flip omelets and hashbrowns like a short order cook.

4. He wants to know and understand everything about the world around him.
5. His feet are ticklish.

6. He lets me eat his ice cream and drink his drinks.

7. He watched Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, and the Emperor's New Groove with me.

8. He reads everything I write and talks about it with me.

9. He plays guitar and sings from his heart.

10. Most importantly, he loves me when I really don't deserve it.

There are quite a lot of other reaons, and I'm fairly sure this blog doesn't alot me the memory to write them all.

We've had a wonderful year, and I can't wait for the next.