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    Have I No Shame?

    Tasha Alexander Icon

    I think we already know the answer to that question.

    But. Even I should be embarrassed to admit that I went through most of the day believing it was Wednesday, clinging to the delusion that I didn’t need to write this blog entry until tomorrow, rejoicing that I had all kinds of time to keep doing what I’ve been doing. And what is that? Reading. Many, many good books. Pausing, on occasion, to watch back-to-back-to-back episodes of The Wire. It’s Post-Book Land, people, and I’m living the debauched life.

    About half an hour ago, I closed the novel I’m powering through, turned out the lights, and buried myself under my well-fluffed comforter. The ceiling fan’s on, my balcony door is open, cool air kissing my face. Bliss. Until I realize that it is not actually Wednesday. It is Thursday. Only now it’s after midnight, which means it’s Friday and I’m overdue for a blog.

    So how did I get in this deranged state of mind? To start, I spent last week in New York, partly for the Edgar Awards, partly for meetings, and partly to spend time with lots of my favorite people in one of my favorite cities. I had Thai delivered to my hotel room one night and fell asleep crazy early, catching eleven hours before I woke up. Had an amazing lunch with my editor and a fantastic afternoon tea with Lauren Willig. Went to a slew of Edgar parties, some of which required cocktail dresses (yay!). Hung out at the Algonquin wishing I knew more Dorothy Parker quotes (although, really, “Brevity is the soul of lingerie” should suffice).

    Oh yeah.

    And I got to see Arthur Phillips read, which was wonderful. I’d tell you all to go buy his books, but I cannot imagine there’s a soul amongst you who’s not already done just that.

    It was quite a week. Pictures here. Wish I was still there. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: I love New York. And they have great cabs. Just in case you were wondering.


    We are not here to listen to me blather on about the city that never sleeps. Although I do feel obliged to point out that it does, in fact, sleep. I certainly didn’t see much happening on my thirty-odd block walk back to Grand Central way too late at night.

    Not, you know, that I make a habit of wandering around in the middle of the night. At least not alone. Today’s Virtual Cocktail guest, Robert Gregory Browne, makes a point of ensuring that I’m properly chaperoned at all times. His debut novel, Kiss Her Goodbye, has just been reissued in paperback, and you’d be hard pressed to find a better book to keep you up tonight.

    So, yeah, you can go buy it. Now. A couple copies. Never know when you might need to have a gift or two on hand.

    I’m just saying.

    Ready for a drink?

    Robert Gregory Browne’s Irish French Kiss

    1 1/2 oz. Irish Cream (Bailey’s)
    3/4 oz. Cointreau
    3/4 oz. Grand Marnier
    1 wedge Oranges

    BRETT: Anything particular you want to whine about today?

    ROB: Today? I’m always whining, ask my friends. Oh, wait, you probably got this question from one of my friends. I’m guessing Battles. Or maybe Blackmoore. So I’ll whine about THEM for awhile. Oh, hell, I don’t have the energy.

    SEAN: If Spiderman and Wonder Woman had an affair, what special powers would their kid get?

    ROB: I’m guessing that kid would be one helluva basketball player.

    KRISTY: Describe your ultimate dinner.

    ROB: My ultimate dinner is Blackened Ahi on a bed of white rice from Roy’s restaurant in Honolulu with my family. Roy’s blackened ahi has, without question, the greatest sauce known to man. Roy’s food, in general, is orgasmic.

    Barring that, a good chicken katsu plate lunch from Grace’s in Honolulu makes a damn good dinner, too.

    BRETT: Is there any truth to the rumor you take a megaphone to book signings?

    ROB: Hahaha. Anyone who knows me knows that not only do I not take a megaphone, but the next person I have to sit next to at a signing who USES a megaphone (whether it be electronic or merely cupped hands) to hawk his or her books may well find him/herself wearing his/her ass for a hat.

    CARRIE: What’s your worst nightmare?

    ROB: A serious answer: losing a child or loved one. That’s been an underlying theme in just about everything I’ve written, including KISS HER GOODBYE. I can’t think of any nightmare worse than that.

    BRETT: Mac or PC?

    ROB: Both. I use a PC for writing and video editing and a Mac for music composition/production (Logic 8 rocks). I love them both, have been a PC guy longer, but them Macs sure are purty.

    JIM: If you could change one thing about Hollywood, what would it be?

    ROB: The blockbuster mentality that dominates that world. I miss the old days of the early seventies when stories were about people, not gadgets.

    BRETT: How many dozens of books do you read a year?

    ROB: Read? What mean read?

    Heh. Let’s make him read. Answer the questions he’s left for the comments……

    1. How many writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

    2. Bedroom chatter: salty or sweet?

    3. What’s your preferred method of murder?

    That’s it for now! I’m hoping I can recapture the now disturbed perfection of my bed. Let me sleep late, will you?


    P.S. I just realized I forgot about my nearly disastrous flight home. Fifteen minutes in the air and the cabin filled with smoke. They told us it was nothing to worry about. Heh. We circled nowhere for a while, and then were diverted to JFK for an emergency landing. A runway lined with more emergency vehicles than you can count does not exactly inspire confidence. Pretty freaky to be on a plane in a situation like that. Makes you take stock of things. But I liked what I saw when I thought about my life.

    And that is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

    10 Responses to “Have I No Shame?”

    1. I have those days when I I have no idea what day it is all the time. I attribute it to age and day job stress. Hmmm! I don’t think you claim that first excuse.

      1. How many writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

      Being an Engineer and a writer, I know this answer. For me it’s 4. one to hold the bulb, two to turn the ladder and me giving direction and preparing the SOP.

      2. Bedroom chatter: salty or sweet?


      3. What’s your preferred method of murder?

      Hands off - Strychnine. It’s OH SO Painful. And the cool contortions the human body goes through is almost artistic as the body convulses.

      Hands on - A knife is so personal.

      by Will Bereswill on May 9th, 2008 at 7:56 am

    2. Will, glad I’m not the only one losing track of time….

      1. How many writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

      I have to defer to Kristy Kiernan’s brilliant answer to this. (And I quote):
      1 to devise a breakdown of the steps necessary to change the bulb
      1 to stare at the bulb hoping it will change itself
      1 to explain why changing the bulb is futile, because the next one is just going to go bad too, and without co-op we’re all doomed to darkness anyway
      1 to call their agent and publicist to make sure changing the bulb won’t harm their reputation
      1 to hold out for a bigger, better replacement bulb
      1 to post “What’s the best way to change a bulb?” on Backspace and wait for 36 answers
      1 to extoll the virtues of the old bulb, the golden glow of the light it gave, its soft, barely perceptible buzz when viable, the startling ping when it expired, the bredth of our loss, the depth of our grief
      1 to edit the previous writer’s bit whilst quoting Elmore Leonard
      1 to bring the tequila
      1 to bring the beer
      1 to bring the wine
      And 1 to look around, call it a conference, and make it a yearly event

      So, that’d be 13? Yes, it takes 13 writers to change a bulb.

      2. Bedroom chatter: salty or sweet?

      Ooooo……..salty. Definitely salty. Because if you’re salty….Well. Never mind.

      3. What’s your preferred method of murder?

      I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll give any potential victims a reprieve.

      by Tasha Alexander on May 9th, 2008 at 9:17 am

    3. Aw, my ?’s for Rob must have gotten lost in the ether. Glorious pictures, Miss T. It was a fun time.

      1. How many writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

      Two. One to screw it almost all the way in, and one to give it a twist at the end.

      2. Bedroom chatter: salty or sweet?

      Cashews in bed?

      3. What’s your preferred method of murder?

      I’m hip to starvation right now…

      by JT Ellison on May 9th, 2008 at 10:05 am

    4. Oh, honey, I’m sorry! I didn’t get your questions. Does this mean I’m back in email hell???

      by Tasha Alexander on May 9th, 2008 at 11:40 am

    5. 1. How many writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

      Well, i hate to be redundant, so, see above…

      2. Bedroom chatter: salty or sweet?

      Salty, baby.

      3. What’s your preferred method of murder?

      Hammer to the head. Effective, satisfying, interesting audio.

      by Kristy on May 9th, 2008 at 1:30 pm

    6. I’m not hearing from you either, babe. Did my emails get lost in the ether, too?

      by JennieB on May 9th, 2008 at 3:36 pm

    7. Ugh. Guess I am in email hell……

      by Tasha Alexander on May 9th, 2008 at 4:49 pm

    8. Speaking of hell… I had to come to this party sicker than a dog. Too many Irish French Kisses, I think.

      I think someone may be trying to murder me. Slow poison. That’s it….

      by Rob Gregory Browne on May 9th, 2008 at 8:09 pm

    9. Rob, you’re charming even when you’re sick, but GET BETTER, will ya????


      by Tasha Alexander on May 9th, 2008 at 8:39 pm

    10. “I think someone may be trying to murder me. Slow poison.

      It wasn’t me.

      by Will Bereswill on May 11th, 2008 at 9:18 am

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