The comments I shared with two different friends, that I share again here, are the following:

1. I was so turned off by this series, especially by the fact that the first book has absolutely no arc, ending abruptly with “end of part 1,” which is no ending at all. I’m so frustrated that I spent any time on that shitacular book. It goes nowhere. You keep reading thinking something is going to happen, so you turn the pages, and don’t stop reading, hoping NOW I will get to the meat, here’s what I’ve been waiting for, some big twist or a tiny detail from the beginning that will reveal something big later on. Nope. Does not happen. Not even a little.

2. Ugh. I wish I had that time back. Any book that ends “ends of part one” without any plot wraps is a complete time suck waste. The sex / power struggle gets so old by the end, and there’s absolutely no surprise or twists. You have to keep reading the other books because in the first one… nothing fucking happens.

Lastly, since I was asked for discussion points, I asked only this:

In terms of a trilogy, what components need to be there in each individual book? Do you think it’s important for each book to have its own complete arc (a clear beginning, middle, and end), with a lingering of what’s to come–and how effective was E L James in satisfying those requirements? Do you believe Fifty Shades of Grey can stand alone as a satisfying read? You already know my answer.

For those who have NOT read on to the second and third books (which people can’t stop emphasizing were so much better), did you hope that something more would be revealed in terms of the plot? Some twist you didn’t see coming? For what were you hoping, aside for the author to put down the thesaurus (“I turn into my pillow and the sluice gates open.”)?

I was extremely frustrated that as information was drip-fed to the reader, it was never blown out. Chekhov’s “One must not put a loaded rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it” wasn’t just ignored by the author; it was never read by the author. For example, the part where Christian “orders up” a gynecologist for Ana, and Ana has seen that all the cars in Christian’s garage are all Audi’s, including the gynecologist. And Christian has bought Ana an Audi… come on. Isn’t that some absurdly obvious clue? I WAS REALLY HOPING the gynecologist was actually the “Mrs. Robinson Character.” A detail like this should have been wrapped up in book one OR it shouldn’t have been included because it’s misleading. Same goes for the whole “every woman he hires is a blond” then in a line, he tells Ana, a brunette, how he loves brunettes, so we KNOW it’s coming, that he’s going to turn her into a brunette, just as his “unbinding” contract reads. Except it doesn’t come, not in book one. And, you cannot blame the editors/ publisher on this one–it was self-published. The whole, “well, it was originally all written as one long book, and it was later sold as a trilogy” doesn’t fly. Know why? It’s sloppy. Each book should be a stand alone story, building on the full stories of the past. Each book needs to be self-contained and satisfying.

Also, looking only at Fifty Shades of Grey, what purpose did Kate serve as a character? Did you care about her relationship with Christian’s brother? And did you think anything would be resolved, at all, with regard to her specific sub-plot line?

Also, by “timesheet” I mean twat.

With a Little Luck: A Novel by Caprice Crane

Forget luck. My girl Caprice is all talent, and heart… and funny. Romantic comedy anyone? With a Little Luck is available starting today. Nab up a copy and lose (and find) yourself in luck.

This isn’t news. I live for the bookstore. I like the eavesdropping, the cafe, and the ability to turn any corner and be inspired. I love that I’m invited to be still and quiet, that they sell organization calendars and Godiva truffles. Shelves upon shelves upon tables and end-caps of cookbooks. Hello.

Is it sick that I want to buy a book just because it has a scrumptious bowl of spaghetti on the cover? I don’t even care what’s inside. Because right there in that image is a promise. I’m buying a feeling. I’m buying cozy and comfort and hope to escape my sore throat and dry skin amid cypress trees and bowls of noodles, with characters that will light me up from the inside. I like stories that nourish.

I also like stories that make me laugh. Except I’m not really big on laughing. I know it’s good for us. I don’t chuckle either. I think I only actually laugh when I’m nervous or when someone is dangerously close to a truth I don’t want to admit. 

“You totally have a crush on him!”

“OMG, I do not!” THIS is where my laugh gives me away. Then I can’t stop laughing. Oh, God, and when someone is absolutely furious, especially when that someone is Phil, I can’t stop. I just laugh. And he’s fuming, and seeing me laugh just pisses him off more, but I can’t help it. I laugh when I’m nervous.

But I adore humor, especially the type of humor where someone is suffering. Torture is good fun. Agony, even better. That said, here’s what’s on my bookshelf this month, and what I’ve already pre-ordered…

And, here’s another note: I truly believe in supporting other writers, helping them sell their books, share their voices, light up other lives. When you pre-order a book, you’re REALLY helping that author out because these best-selling rates and equations look at the first week of sales, maybe the second week. That’s it. If it’s doing well, the publisher will keep spending money to push it. But if people aren’t pre-ordering, the publisher does what they can, then they bow out, onto promoting the next book. So, pre-order. It will make you feel good knowing you’re doing something nice for someone nice.

On my (truly talented and funny people) pre-order list:

With a Little Luck: A Novel by Caprice Crane

It’s All Relative: Two Families, Three Dogs, 34 Holidays and 50 Boxes of Wine A Memoir by Wade Rouse

I have not read these books yet. That’s why they are on my pre-order list. But here’s another that I have read, a non-funny book for the soul…

Epiphany: True Stories of Sudden Insight to Inspire, Encourage, and Transform edited by Elise Ballard*

I guess no one wants their book to be described as non-funny, so let’s see if I can do this last one some justice…

This book is something I savor. I keep it on my coffee table for guests. The stories contained in Epiphany are like little snacks for your soul. They sing to you, make you want to do a jig, make you want to change your life, interact more, be kinder. They made me cry, a lot. But that good cry. The cry you have when you watch Jane Austen movies, where the character finally realizes she’s in love with the enemy and he loves her just as she is. You blubber is what you do. Epiphany will make you blubber in the best possible way imaginable.

This is a book that I will read to my children in time, a book I share with friends now, and a book that makes my inside, deepest self, want to sing and bust out the tap shoes. It’s glorious.

*Oh, and if you’re in AUSTIN, TX, Friday, February 4, there will be a Book Signing with Q&A at 7:00 pm at Book People (6th and Lamar) with Elise Ballard. If I am in town, I will absolutely be there!

The pep-talk I never posted:

I am a nervous wreck. I don’t know what it is! My mouth is all dry and pasty; my hands are actually quivering; I feel like I can’t focus. I am worried about driving to a studio across town, worried I won’t find it in time, circling, with the damn GPS sending me to the wrong San Vicente, not giving myself enough time to get there on time given traffic and having no sense of how long it will take me to get anywhere! Then I needle at my pitch draft, hoping I leave enough time to print a copy… only shit, I don’t have the right driver to work with this printer. HOLY FUCK. It never ends. And um, I so need to shower, is there time?

I can’t sleep. I toss and turn, rehearsing everything in my mind. Then new thoughts come up, and I think, I’ve got to work that in, I better do it now before I forget.

And how exactly does someone walk TV executives through over a handful of character descriptions, the concept for the show, it’s theme, how it’s personal to you in 20 MINUTES? I’ll tell you how: you rehearse the shit out of it.

The only way to combat nerves is to say, “I’m nervous. So what?” Then, get over it and realize that the antidote to nerves is preparation (not to be confused with perspiration). So keep walking through it until you know it inside out. HELLO, it’s a conversation, it’s material you know and live. And they’ve INVITED YOU to share your creation with them. They want to hear from you. They’re lucky to have the opportunity to hear your genius idea. So when you’re hands start to quiver, give them the finger, and say, “Fuck it. I’m just gonna be myself and tell this story the way I’d tell it to a friend at a bar.” And when you’re done with the pitch, no matter what comes of it, you did it. No, you rocked it. (And even if you do stumble over your words or lose your place, IT JUST DOESN’T MATTER, because ultimately, it’s not about how great of a pitch you can give, it’s about the idea. And that’s one thing you’re dead sure about. You go kick some Hollywood ass Ms. Stephanie Klein!

Aside from being breeding grounds for pubic lice and fecal-borne bacteria, bathrooms have become the new Yellow Pages. Beyond the “For a half-decent poke, call Brenda” listings, it’s where you can pick up the best bits of information. From hair and beauty products to sales, technology, and men to avoid, there are things to be learned—especially at networking events + conferences like SXSW.

Cute Jeans. “On sale, Loehmann’s.”
Wow, I wish I had your figure. “Weight Nazi on 71st and Lex. Here’s his number.”
Do my boobs look straight? “…” (see video)

People have their guard down when they’re staring in the mirror, washing up. In movies, it’s often the location of an emotional turning point—a place of self-reflection, where our protagonist enters the bathroom with an unwavering mindset, has a stare down with herself, then suddenly (and often through reflective montage), she knows what must be done, catapulting us into the next act. That, or it’s a place for an illicit stall shag scene.

The loo is a place of leveling. Whether you’re a powerful boldfaced name spotted on Best and Most lists or the sad sack who just lost his job, girl, and twitter followers, we’ve all gotta drop a deuce sometime. We all share that. Some of us just don’t share the TMI details of it to the world—not me, but some of us.

Here’s where the SXSW bit comes in. Now mind you, this was filmed at the butt cleavage of dawn, before my Balance is Bullshit Panel. My hair was unruly and wet, and I could have stood to spend a bit more time in the bathroom mirror, but the content is good, and you’ll see I learned to think “outside the bathroom” (an improvement on ‘outside the box,’ no?) so I’m sharin’ the love (self love + otherwise).

StephanieKlein on Twitter

Also in this video: Ingrid Vanderveldt of On The Road With IV, Balance is Bullshine, Muuter, Dave Peck, SXSW Interactive. The person’s name I forgot, but love, really love: Tim Sanders

I’m beginning to write the proposal for my third memoir. Here’s a brain dump of how that’s going, or rather, where it’s gone to get me to here:

It’s easy to KNOW 100% what you’ll write about when you’re suffering through it (Straight Up And Dirty). Or when you’ve already suffered through it once upon a stretch mark ago (Moose). It’s something else to find a story, an emotional arc, within an existing passion, without landing somewhere near the immersive “Year in the Life” memoir subgenre.

A year of: self-help; blind dates; crock pot cooking; mornings; magazine subscription advice; biblical living; saying yes; eating, praying, loving; volunteering; finding happiness; completing recipes; living without TV; living in mental institutions; Kaddish; magical thinking; friend-dates; farming; eating local; celibacy; food life. You get the idea.

It’s a gimmick. The time constraint of a year doesn’t add value to the content, except for a milk & water urgency toward the end, maybe. But, you know what? It’s a gimmick that works. It keeps things nice and tidy; you know what you’re in for, both the reader and writer.

I prefer to believe that suffering or dissatisfaction lead you to make changes in your life, and in retrospect, those changes happened within the framework of a year. Not that you said, “Shit, now what can I write about? I know! I’ll do a year of BLANK, and write about the journey.” The former seems like a marketing bookhook, designed simply to help frame and position a story that already exists, a story that needs to be told, while the latter feels more contrived, deliberate, manufactured. But in the end, I don’t know if it matters. A good book is a good book. And if it forces you out of your familiar, away from easy, I’m all for it.

I won’t get into the topic of this next memoir until I finish this proposal of mine, but I don’t know if it’s a “year of” book or not. What I do know is that it’s a story that needs to be told.