Author Provocateur

What writers should do when they are in the 99% (of publishing's many norms): stay in the game.

Because of a very fortunate turn of events this year in my writing career, I was asked to speak to other authors who had been my support system in the ups and downs of my 7-year career: the San Francisco chapter of the Romance Writers of America. This group is filled with an even mix of aspiriting and already published successful writers, all of whom have been there for each other with inspiring words, great advice, and a shoulder to cry on.

Yes, it was my turn to give back.

Here's what I told them (in the few moments when I wasn't dithering off-topic, on such things as house renovations from hell, book promotion, instore co-op and other necessary evils of success for the chosen few--

But then caffeine on a belly of oatmeal will do that to you. Next time: fill the ol' belly with pancakes first. Oh yeah: and look at your notes every once in a while...)

_____________________________________

The year 2011 did not start out well for me. I was one of many midlist authors who had a novel under contract  with publishing house, but then it was dropped as part of a loss-saving attempt in light of the Borders bankruptcy.

I made sure that my own private pity party was short and bittersweet, then turned my attention on promoting the novel which was due out in April. I was proud of the buzz I'd already built prior to its release, which turned into a 10-market tour hosted by women who had the same career as Katie, the heroine in my book The Baby Planner.

As far as my editor was concerned, it paid off -- enough for her to ask me to lunch. As we nibbled lady-sized salads at the Bergdorf-Goodman Restaurant high over Central Park, she asked, "So what can I see next?"

This is why it's always a smart idea to promote promote promote your books, no matter what your publishing house is (or isn't) doing for it.

Knowing that you need to publish or perish, I was also smart enough to take the great advice of my writer pal, Bella Andre, who has hit it out of the park indie-pub'ing her re-acquired backlist and some new books. She convinced me that a novel which had had four editors salivating for it- (until it got shot down in committee) was the perfect test for me to indie-publish. The first book in that series, The Housewife Assassin's Handbook, is out now.

Thus far I'm loving the sales. The second in the series, The Houswife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing will be out by the end of the month. So yes, authors: Independent publishing is one way to watch your orphans thrive.

Writing novels is not for the faint of heart. I truly believe you need a wonderful agent to match you with the right editor: someone loves your writer's voice and your story, and wants to help make it the best book possible before showing it to the world.

But even a great agent and a superlative editor can't do the one thing that keeps an author writing for a living wage. For that, you need a legion of readers who fall in love with your characters, and wants to see more of them, and of you.

Thanks to my wonderful agent, Holly Root, who saw the potential in my books to translate into different media, my novels were shown to a talent agency which felt that they did indeed have the potential to be adapted into movies or as a TV series.

Well, they were right. One of Hollywood biggest producers, Jerry Bruckheimer, has optioned one of my books, Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives, for a television show that will run on ABC.

So yes: this year has been a rollercoaster. But I was one of the lucky ones.

I'm making  a living wage as a writer.

These readers are out there. I know authors who exhaust themselves trying to find them: touring, social networking, responding to comments and emails.

I strongly feel that, with the changes that are occuring in the distribution of books -- the surge of online book sales, coupled with the decline in the number of brick-and-mortar bookstores, not to mention the number of books they take on -- will also change the role of publishers:

They will have to  get more agressive -- and smarter -- in how they promote the books they publish.

I have no doubt that they will soon publish less authors. But in order to thrive, they'll have to make the books they do publish as profitable as possible. This means focusing on marketing and promotion as well as distribution. They need to recognize niche markets for specific authors and their books, and court them...

Something that authors do, now, for themselves...if they're smart.

And could to even better if they had the financial resources and personpower of their pub houses.

Every author writing for that imprint is a brand.

Every book is a product under that brand.

This is, simply, Marketing 101.

Which brings me to you, the author:

If you're a writer, be prepared to spend most of your career in the 99 percent.

Everyone in this room writes, because we must write. This need to write comes from the depth of our souls.

Ninety-nine percent of the world doesn't have this desire. (Thank gawd! Aren't there already enough of us, in this very competitive field?)

So, consider yourself in the one percent.

Already, I applaud you.

A reality we all know: ninety-nine percent of aspiring writers will not get published by a New York publishing house. All the more reason I want to applaud the many I see this room who have made it into the one percent who have been traditionally published.

Of all traditionally published writers, how many have been able -- or will be able -- to make writing a fully-fledged career that pays the bills and puts food on the table? How many will still be published ten or twenty years from now?

I'm guessing that number is closer to one percent than 99 percent.

And of those who are lucky enough to make writing their vocation as well as their avocation, I'm guessing that 99 percent of them will never have the joy of learning that their book has been optioned and produced in an entertainment medium, such as film or television.

But here's the thing: If you ever want to be in THE 1 PERCENT (of the 1 percent who write; of the 1 percent who get an agent; of the one percent who get a publishing contract; of the 1 percent who can make a living writing; of the one percent who may enjoy watching their characters come alive in the small screen or the silver screen) you have to stay in the game.

You have to write.

Afterward, you have to edit, and re-edit, and edit again, until your manuscript is a page-turner.

Then you have to query a large, well-researched list of agents with your manuscript.

Once you get that agent, you have to to listen to him or her as to what else has to be done to it so that s/he will be enthusiastic when it is sent out to editors (remember: agents work on a commission, so they don't get paid until your book sells; they are putting sweat equity in you as well).

And once your book is published, you have to promote it.

And you have to write more books.

So, yeah: writing is the easy part.

Staying in the game is the hard part.

Last. Author. Standing.

 -- Josie

(c) 2011 Josie Brown. All rights reserved.

The top photo is the book cover for Writing Romance: The Ultimate Guide on Craft, Creation and Industry Connections, which is published by the San Francisco Chapter of the Romance Writers of America

 Read an excerpt of
THE HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN'S HANDBOOK 
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The Help: does the movie's portrayal of racism ring true?

I was (as we say there) born and raised in Atlanta. I grew up in the Atlanta of the 1960s. Back then, the mayor, a progressive-minded man named William Hartsfield (and back then, "progressive" wasn't a dirty word) made our slogan, "The city too busy to hate."

Keep in mind that Atlanta was also the home of Martin Luther King, Jr. 

I was a child of the sixties. I remember segregation and integration, which happened while I was in elementary school. I also remember Dr. King's assassination, in Memphis. At my school in DeKalb County, as we watched the funeral on television, I remember our teacher's prediction: "You will always remember this day."

She was right, although we were too young to understand what it meant.

At one time, it had also been the home of the Klu Klux Klan. In fact, it once stood on what is now the grounds of one of the three elegant churches that grace Peachtree Street at the southern apex of Buckhead known as "Christ Curve." The biggest irony is that the church is a Catholic congregation: a religion that the KKK hated. That the priests decided to invited the Klan's Imperial Wizard to the dedication is proof positive that any piece of land can be sanctified.

Which brings me to the questions being raised by the movie based on Kathryn Stockett's runaway bestselling book, The Help:

First, does it vilify its Caucasian characters? And secondly, does it correctly represent the African-American dialects of the time? And finally, do the African-American experiences ring true?

My own opinion: I loved the book. And my personal take on the first is that Ms. Stockett has been true to the South we both grew up in (albeit a few years, and miles, apart).

Before integration, there was a difinitive separation of classes. Whereas some of it was based on "breeding." (Who was your daddy's daddy, and your mama's people?).

Certainly religion played into it. But mostly, it was based on color.

Integration was resented by most of the Caucasian population. No one who lived through it can deny that.

In many ways Hartfield's Atlanta was a bubble of positive race relations, but no one who lived there during those tulmultious times cannot deny that it had its fair share of racial violence. The 1958 bombing of the Jewish Temple on Peachtree Street in Atlanta's Brookwood neighborhood was one very sad example.

My parents had moved to Atlanta in the mid-fifties, from Manhattan, because of a transfer that my father had agreed to. My maiden name is Martinez, and both my parents had been born in Puerto Rico, albeit raised stateside. Like them--and unlike my older sister--I had thick, curly dark hair and an olive complexion, but also light eyes. I remember a little boy in my class asking me, "What are you?" The question stumped me. I didn't know how to answer! I mean, I was a girl, of course. Wasn't that obvious?

His next question shamed me, because I interpreted it as a slur: "Are you a nigger?"

That was a word we never used in my house. Ever. I had no right to feel ashamed.

I wonder if there was a time, even later in life, where he grew to regret his own use of it.

Had I grown up in the North, I'm sure I'd have heard another taunt: "Spic." But since we weren't the predominant minority in Atlanta, that word wasn't as well known back then. I guess we skirted by. Sure, our name was inevitably mispronounced ("Mart-TEEN-ez" became "Martin-EZZ"). That is a small price to pay for the privilege of being allowed to "pass."

To answer the second question: yes, the South has many dialects, for both the predominant races. When I lived there, I could tell if the person speaking to me was from Georgia, Alabama, North Carolina or Texas by his or her "twang." Then again, I could also tell an Aussie from a Kiwi. I guess I have an ear for dialects. It got me into radio. (The need for sanity got me out of it.)

I moved from the South after marriage, to the San Francisco Bay Area. I married a Yankee: a nice Jewish boy from the Bronx, who had moved to Atlanta after college. As much as I loved Atlanta and had grown up around Southerners, I never got over the presumption that I might be too exotic for any man who drank rum and Cokes, had gone to UGA (University of Georgia, but pronounced "ugga," like the infamous mutt mascot for that grand institution school) and aspired to a partnership at King & Spalding. 

So, yep, I can certainly relate to The Help's heroine, Skeeter. The world is a very big place. That's a good thing for those of us who must question the local customs, or who refuse to conform to society's current norm.

I take it as a good sign that some people who have seen the movie or have read the book are truly appalled at the class divisiveness portrayed in The Help, and the cluelessness of the cruelty demonstrated by some of its Caucasian characters.

They should be. That goes for all of us. Especially those of us who lived through it. 

When my daughter was in the fourth grade and studying the Civil War, she chided me for my Southern roots. "Mom, how could you have lived in a place where Eva and I could not have been friends?" Eva, her BFF, is African-American. 

After reminding her that I was born more than a century after the Civil War, I had to agree with her, and break the news to her that some people still judge others by their skin color. 

I will always consider Atlanta my home. I am very proud of my hometown, as I am sure Ms. Stockett is of hers, Jackson, Mississippi. The reality is that neither of us can change its history. Our memories, our perceptions and our interpretations of the places we grew up -- as well as those of others who also grew up in that time and those places -- are ours own.If they don't reflect that of others, so be it. The South can be charming. It can also be provencial and cruel.

Then again, so can New York, Paris, and London. 

But I guess if a commonor can marry a king-in-the-wings, the world is changing for the good.

-- Josie

 

 

  

THE HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN'S HANDBOOK
Murder. Suspense. Sex. 
And some handy household tips.

Signal Press - Digital eBook 

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Tucson Tragedy: It's Time for Comprehensive Universal Mental Health

The despair felt by the parents of the mentally ill -- especially those whose illnesses, such as schizophrenia, manifest into anger and has caused them to do physical harm to others -- is unfathomable by the rest of us.

These are not bad parents. They are people who love their children, and have done their best to get medical attention for their offspring, despite the expense (psychopharmaceutical drugs can be as much as $100 a pill, even if needed daily), and the stress of all the red tape traps devised by our American health insurance system--not to mention the lack of comprehensive medical care for the mentally ill, once the financial hurdles have been jumped. 

Below is an excerpt for the Mother Lode column in the New York Times, in which several parents with mentally ill children who have done similar acts give their perspectives on the Tucson, Arizona killing rampage that injured fourteen, including U.S. Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, and killed six others.

We can't take healthcare off the table now. In so many ways, our lives depend on our society -- and elected officials -- addressing this topic, and moving forward on workable answers.

 

I've also included a video, from PBS's NewsHour, on the Tucson and the missed opportunities to prevent it by assessing Laughner's mental health situation. Sadly, Laughner was putting his intentions out there with YouTube videos.

The irony: Arizona had cut $65 million from its mental health social services budget since 2008.

Knowledge is power,

--Josie

 

 

MOTHERLODE / Adventures in Parenting / New York Times

January 11, 2011, 3:31 pm

A Killer’s Parents

By LISA BELKIN

Pima County Sheriff’s OfficeA photograph of Jared L. Loughner released by the Pima County Sheriff’s Office.

With Jared Lee Loughner’s unhinged grin staring out from so many Web sites and newspapers today, parents of troubled young adults are stepping forward, giving glimpses into the pain and impotence that comes when your child has mental illness.

In Chicago, the longtime local CBS news anchor Bill Kurtis shared all that and more with viewers last night, talking publicly for the first time about his son Scott, who was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and who died in 2009 when he was 38.

In unscripted comments coming after a report on the reasons authorities don’t take action against bizarre behavior before it turns threatening, Kurtis talked of how his son heard voices and suffered from hallucinations, but was not violent. The turn toward violence in the mentally ill, however, can be unpredictable, Kurtis said. “I was told my son went nonviolent, and he was no danger,” he said. “But 10 percent of the crimes are committed by mentally ill people who do turn violent.”

After the newscast Kurtis told the blogger Robert Federer that he decided to speak out because Loughner’s story seemed so familiar. “I never wanted to exploit Scott and the illness, and always thought that if he wanted it to go public, he should be able to make the decision and talk about it,” Kurtis said. “We’d been living with this for so long that when I heard some of the witnesses and observers who came forward Saturday [to describe Loughner], I felt this was the perfect time. In schizophrenia, they say people seem to come in and out. So they can look normal and function normally and go in and buy a gun.”

One can only imagine that Kurtis is putting himself in the shoes of Loughner’s parents and wondering “what if?” That is definitely what Jeannette Halton-Tiggs is doing, and she wrote about it today over on The Daily Beast.

In a column titled “Mother of a Monster,” she describes to columnist Mansfield Frazier how her son, Timothy Halton Jr. was sentenced to life in prison for shooting a police officer.

As she says:

…in truth my Timmy is not, and never was, a monster… what he was cursed to be is one of the literally millions of hopelessly and irrevocably mentally ill individuals in the world today. He suffers from a severe form of paranoid schizophrenia that renders him incapable of controlling his thoughts, emotions or actions when, for a variety of reasons — some beyond his control — he is off his medications. And I did everything humanly possible within my power to keep him on a treatment regimen, but, alas, to no avail.

The reality is, no one can be as deranged as my son, or as Jared Loughner apparently is, without many people being aware of his deteriorating mental condition — yet seemingly no one moved to force him into treatment. The burning question following a mind-boggling incident of this kind should be: “Why do we, as a society, allow known dangerously mentally ill individuals to make their own decisions in regard to receiving treatment?”

There is a powerful contingent of folks in the mental-health care delivery field in this country who posit that no one should be compelled to be treated for their illness unless, and until, they harm someone. This, in itself, is insane … and dangerous to boot. I screamed at the top of my lungs that my son was one day going to hurt someone, or himself, but no one in a position of authority to avert the tragedy would listen or do anything.

That is mostly because Timmy turned 18 and his mother lost legal authority to control whether he took his medicines or was hospitalized or even monitored. Halton-Tiggs cites data which show that “more than 40,000 dangerously mentally ill individuals are roaming America’s streets on any given day, untreated.”

All those individuals are someone’s child.

As Halton-Tiggs concludes: “I’m pretty sure I know what Loughner’s family is going though. The guilt, the shame, the sense of despair.”

Statistics mean that tens of thousands of other parents out there fear one day knowing those feelings as well.

(c) 2010 New York Times.

My relationship advice to newlyweds Katy Perry and Russell Brand

Omigod! Who'd have thunk it? Pop tart Katy Perry and comedian Russell Brand went out and got married!

I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.

That's okay. I probably would have gotten lost on the way there, anyway. My cell phone is too old for any GPA app, let alone one that shows some Aman-i-khas resort on the edge of the Rajasthani nature reserve.

Besides, I thoroughly understand it was a small, intimate affair: just those two crazy kids, 85 of their closest friends and family, a Hindu guru,a Christian minister, two elephants named Laxmi and Mala ("Mala is a bit skittish and hates crowds but she managed to behave herself," a source told PEOPLE), a fortune-telling parrot--

Oh yeah: and a tiger that, supposedly, has already killed three people.

I still have a wedding gift for them: a few ground rules for ensuring that their union will be one that lasts forever. Usually I'd give it to them face-to-face (you know, these things are personal) but since I wasn't invited on the honeymoon either, they'll have to read it here:

• 1. Never go to bed angry. Talk things out first. Then do go to bed. Together. And without the parrot.
• 2. Don't flirt with others. For Katy, that means no more kissing girls. For Russell, that means no more kissing every other girl, as he learned in sex addiction rehab. For both of them, that means no more kissing the mirror.
• 3. Don't let your differences get in the way of a good thing. You came from such dissimilar backgrounds. With that comes some heavy baggage. Don't empty it on your spouse when you get scared that things aren't as perfect as you had hoped they'd be.
• 4. Don't buy into the gossip. Professionally, you are both on top now. That says something about your strength of fortitude, and your ability to achieve your goals. Well, a happy marriage is a goal, too. Don't let the crap you read in the tabloids put it in a tailspin. Just keep trusting and talking.
• 5. Don't let others get between you. This means fans, publicists, agents, managers and anyone else who wants you to believe that what you have together isn't anything more than a publicity stunt. Prove them all wrong. If not for yourselves, then for the rest of us.

 I've got a premonition about these things: this one's gonna last.

But if it doesn't, I presume I'll be invited to Katy's divorce party. If so, my gift to her will be a little more expansive, and, I'm sure, much appreciated: a copy of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Finding Mr. Right. 

To use Russell's parlance, it's my very own booky wook.

 Tah dah,

--Josie

 Josie's Latest Book: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives
Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

In bookstores June 1, 2010. Order it TODAY!

"Hollywood's got nothing on the cast of characters living in the bedroom community of Paradise Heights, who have the secrets, sex, money and scandal of an OK! Magazine cover story. Josie Brown is a skilled observer whose clever dialogue and feisty style make for truly entertaining reading." --Jackie Collins, Hollywood Wives

 

 

So Sad: Killer Strollers

Because my next book, THE BABY PLANNER, deals with a woman whose job includes choosing baby gear for her clients (she also previously worked for a state agency dealing with safety product issues), of course this article caught my eye. Please pass forward to your friends who are in baby- and toddler mode and may want to know about this.

Lookin' out for my peeps,

--Josie

In Bookstores April 5, 2011!

THE BABY PLANNER - A Novel

(Simon & Schuster/Gallery Books)
ISBN#: 978-1439197127

PRE-ORDER NOW,  from

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2 Million Baby Strollers Recalled After 4 Deaths

By Dhanya Skariachan Dhanya Skariachan – 41 mins ago

NEW YORK, Oct 20 (Reuters Life) – A leading producer of children's products is recalling about 2 million baby strollers sold before 2008 at major U.S. retailers, after four infants died of strangulation.

The news of the recall by Graco Children's Products Inc, of the China-made strollers, comes less than three weeks after Mattel Inc's Fisher-Price recalled some 10 million toys and other items, renewing concerns about safety standards of infant products -- a good chunk of which is made in low-cost centers like China.

The latest recall, made along with the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, applies to Graco Quattro Tour and MetroLite strollers sold at retailers including Babies R Us, Sears, Target and Wal-Mart between November 2000 and December 2007.

In addition to the four deaths, the CPSC said it was also aware of reports of five infants becoming entrapped, resulting in cuts and bruises, and one having difficulty breathing.

"This recall involves strollers sold as long as 10 years ago, demonstrating the ongoing need for families to remain vigilant about hazardous products lurking in their homes," said Dan Verakis, founder and CEO of SafetyBook.org, which runs a recall-monitoring service for consumers.

Earlier this year, Graco recalled another 1.5 million strollers after the CPSC received reports of children's fingertips being amputated.

 

Lissa Rankin's WHAT'S UP DOWN THERE? is better than sex. Seriously.

Since when is reading better than sex?

When what you're reading is ABOUT sex--and you're learning that all the things you thought you knew about it (and your body) could fill, like maybe just one page of a book?

That book would be Lissa Rankin MD's book, WHAT'S UP DOWN THERE? Questions You'd Only Ask Your Gynocologiest If She Was Your Best Friend .

Take my word for it., you won't be able to put down.

This is one of those seminal books that we'll all remember when we talk about living in this era, sort of like Helen Gurley Brown's SEX AND THE SINGLE GIRL was for the mid '60s, or EVERTHING YOU EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SEX, AND WERE AFRAID TO ASK* was for the early '70s.

Knowledge is power. And ladies (and gentlemen), knowledge about the female body is KRYPTONITE.

What Dr. Rankin has done here is give our fear factor about our womanly parts and sexuality a big pink chill pill. Forget your middle school sex ed class. If your teacher was cool, if she read this now she'd be laughing and nodding her head at all the things she knew she couldn't tell you without getting called into the principal's office.

With honesty and unabashed openness (and some great asides, trivia, and first-hand experience, Dr. Rankin answers such questions as "Is it safe to put perfume on your cootchie to make it smell good?" and "Is it important for me to tell my doctor the truth when she asks how many sexual partners I have?" and my husband's personal fave: "I don't even know what turns me on. How do I get in touch with that?"

LOL! Yep, that's right. My husband delved into this book, too. He read to, cover-to-cover. He now considers himself an expert on my "down there."

I'll be testing him later tonight,

--Josie

Josie's Latest Book: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

In bookstores June 1, 2010. Order it TODAY!

"Hollywood's got nothing on the cast of characters living in the bedroom community of Paradise Heights, who have the secrets, sex, money and scandal of an OK! Magazine cover story. Josie Brown is a skilled observer whose clever dialogue and feisty style make for truly entertaining reading." --Jackie Collins, Hollywood Wives

My R Rated Book Reading: Mature Audiences Only

Women behaving wildly is the theme at Women Who Write, the monthly book salon thrown by memoirist and club promoter Vicki Abelson in Montrose, CA.

In June, I was lucky to be invited as one of the guest readers, along with comedians Marc Maron and Paul Provenza, and musician James Lee Stanley (who entertained us with several of his many hits), and of course Vicki, who reads one more chapter of her work in progress from her fabulous memoir (I got to read a first draft, and I predict best-seller: lots of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll!)

Vicki tapes every reading. My portion of it can be seen here, below. However, be duly warned: realizing that my co-readers are seasoned performers who knew how to keep their audiences rolling in the aisles in laughter, I chose a funny and somewhat naughty read myself: not exactly R-rated, but a bit more than PG-13. 

So yeah, I'm blushing....and wishing my arms were better toned. ( I'm workin' on that!)

Enjoy!

That's showbiz,

—Josie
http://twitter.com/JosieBrownCA

http://www.facebook.com/Josie.Brown.Author.Page 

  Josie's Latest Book: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

In bookstores June 1, 2010. Order it TODAY!

"Hollywood's got nothing on the cast of characters living in the bedroom community of Paradise Heights, who have the secrets, sex, money and scandal of an OK! Magazine cover story. Josie Brown is a skilled observer whose clever dialogue and feisty style make for truly entertaining reading." --Jackie Collins, Hollywood Wives

Your family photo album: Is it buried under the bed, online, or deep in your psyche?

I laughed my head off when I saw that the guys who started AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com got a two-book deal. Yes, they deserve it: they're mining a treasure trove of our worse memories: those incidents most of us have hoped were buried deeper than between two sheets of acetate and under the bed, up in the closet, or down in the cellar.

For me, that includes every bad hairdo and fat phase.

For my kids, I'm sure it's every and any photo in which they are standing beside my husband Martin and me.

Martin knows no such qualms. He never changes! His photos must be in the attic on some paranormal easel that keeps him looking perpetually a decade younger. 

If and when I flip through my old childhood  photo albums, a few of the snapshots might actually make me wince because of the event where it was taken. The picture wasn't as bad as some off-hand remark that was made that day, some hurt feeling incurred. When we're younger, we're more sensitive. We haven't had time to develop such thick skins.

It's why I worship La Mer. Softens the face, if not the heart.

I take a lot of pictures with my digital camera. Sometimes I post them online. In all honesty, it's been a while since I've had any printed out. You can't even do it anymore in my local CVS. I have to run to the store-formerly-known-as-Kinkos to do that these days, and that's just too much of a bother. Yeah, yeah, I know: I can always uplink them to an online printing source, but truth be, I miss the shock and awe of picking through the bad ones.

Do you still have your old photo albums? What are the chances they'll outlast you as your legacy?

And can our photo legacies live, in perpetuity, online?

Your thoughts welcomed -- as well as your funniest family photo! Email it to SecretLivesBook@gmail.com and the winner gets a free copy of my book!

—Josie

http://twitter.com/JosieBrownCA

http://www.facebook.com/josiebrownauthor

  Josie's Next Book: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

In bookstores June 1, 2010. Order it TODAY!

"Hollywood's got nothing on the cast of characters living in the bedroom community of Paradise Heights, who have the secrets, sex, money and scandal of an OK! Magazine cover story. Josie Brown is a skilled observer whose clever dialogue and feisty style make for truly entertaining reading."

—Jackie Collins, bestselling author of Hollywood Wives

The Secret Lives of My Toyotas

My husband and I don't consider ourselves car people. We consider ourselves Toyota people.

Car people are fickle. They want the latest/greatest/hottest/fastest/newest car on the market.

Toyota people are smart. They want reliability, dependability and safety. And they want a great-looking car.

We bought our first Toyota, a Corolla, just a week before our firstborn, our son, was born.

That was a momentous day for two reasons: It was also the day I decided to follow my dream and write novels.

One Toyota (the Corolla) led to another (Camry) and then another (Camry)....

Two kids and a move cross-country later, we are still Toyota people. We went on our family vacations in these cars. We taught our children how to drive in them. We went to every major life event in them: weddings, graduations, funerals.

So you see, it's habit-forming. Something about never having to worry about unnecessary fix-it issues (like my sis-in-law and her Volvo...).

In fact, I love our Toyota so much, I wrote the Highlander Hybrid into my latest book, SECRET LIVES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES. You can read the excerpt below.

Oh, and by the way: I'm participating in a Toyota/TwitterMoms campaign, which inspired this post. My opinions, thoughts and feelings are my own. As a TwitterMom, I'm eligible for a courtesy gift from Amazon.com of $50.

So, what will I do with that gift certificate? Sharing it with some lucky winner! I'll be sending her/him an autographed copy of my book ($10.20 in Amazon.com), along with a $25 Amazon gift card.

Here's how it works:

1. Read this excerpt, below, that comes from my book SECRET LIVES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES.

2. After reading it, answer the question below it, and email me the correct answer to SecretLivesBook@gmail.com; Put "Toyota Excerpt" in the subject line;

AND

3. Comment below about why you love your own Toyota, or something about the excerpt (below) that resonated with you.

BONUS (gets you another freebee entry in the contest!):

4. Give my "auto-biography" a thumbs-up on the Toyota Facebook page, here...

All correct entries received no later than 12 midnight PT on Tuesday, July 20, 2010, will be eligible for the autographed book, and the $25 gift card.

No purchase necessary. You must be over 18 years of age to participate. This prize is applicable to the US and Canada only.

Good luck, and happy driving this summer,

--Josie

* photo of the Toyota Highlander Hybrid 2010, the car driven by my heroine, Lyssa Harper.

EXCERPT - SECRET LIVES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES

Chapter 6

“The majority of husbands remind me of an orangutan trying to play the violin.”

—Honore de Balzac

 

 

Monday 4 Nov, 10:13 a.m. It is true that the Highlander Hybrid goes from zero to sixty in around 9.6 seconds.

 

However, the inverse of that—say, you’re driving at sixty miles an hour down Highway 101 in a rainstorm when you blow a tire—happens a little slower.

 

I am experiencing this now, as my Highlander hydroplanes out of control as yet another rain wave rolls under its chassis.

 

I eat up the first few seconds with some freaking out and swearing at myself for forgetting Ted’s warning about going too fast on bald tires. Then, oh possibly another six seconds goes to slamming on the brakes and praying up a storm as the Highlander spins out of control. By the time it comes to a complete stop and my heart rate goes back down to normal, I’m guessing I’ve lost another twelve seconds.

 

Okay, I lied. My chest is still heaving twenty-two seconds later, when I hear the tap on my window.

 

“Lyssa, are you okay?” Harry Wilder’s face stares back at me, blurred and contorted through my rain-spattered window. It’s been a couple of days since we saw each other in the park.

I nod slowly and roll down my window. The cold air feels great on my face because it reminds me I’m alive. “I—I was very stupid, going that fast.”

 

“I’m just happy you’re alive. Look, would you like me to call someone?”

 

“No, that’s okay, really. I have Triple A. I’ve got the card here somewhere . . . ” My hands shake as I rummage through the deep, unfathomable well of my bag, but I can’t find it. DAMN DAMN DAMN Olivia’s been playing in my purse again . . .

 

I look up again just in time to see a raindrop roll off the tip of his nose. “Oh, my God, sorry! Why don’t you get in?” I fumble with the auto-lock. When he hears it click, he jumps into the passenger seat behind me.

 

He’s wearing a rainproof jacket, but he’s shivering nonetheless. With his hair coiled into damp curls, it strikes me how much more like him his daughter looks than like DeeDee.

 

“Listen, by the time you find the number, I could have already changed your tire. Do you know if you have a spare?”

 

“Yes, but—you’ll get wet!”

 

He laughs heartily at the obvious. "At this point, I think I’d say that’s a moot issue."

I’m happy to hear no pain in his voice, like the first time we met. Maybe DeeDee’s shopping spree put things in perspective for him. “Okay, sure, it’s there, somewhere. Let’s look together. The least I can do is hold the umbrella.”

 

We both jump out of the car and head toward the hatch. After moving the kids’ basketball and soccer gear, with some finagling we’re able to shift the backseat forward and open the compartment, which holds a fully inflated tire, thank God, and a jack.

 

He heaves both out and crouches down to set up by the blown tire. As I stand over him with my umbrella, I’m given a different point of view of Harry Wilder. I take note of how thin his hair is at the crown of his head, and the way in which his shoulders expand and roll beneath his jacket as he cranks the jack and twists off the bolts. A few moments later, when he stands up to move the flattened tire out of the way, he forgets how close I’m standing and bumps his head into the umbrella. I’m caught off guard and topple backward, but he grabs my arm before I fall into a puddle.

 

“Sorry!” we say in unison, then, “Don’t be—” and then together we laugh. That breaks the tension. But then a mist of awkwardness envelops us again.

 

I find it suffocating. Apparently he does too, because he clasps my hand with his even tighter.

 

 My hand lingers in his just long enough for me to appreciate its warmth.

 

And to feel his wedding band.

 

Yes, Harry is still in mourning.

 

As nonchalantly as I can, I take my hand out of his. We stand there in the rain, letting it pull us back to reality. Finally I realize that one of us should say something. My attempt is feeble but sincere. “You know, I’m forever in your debt.”

 

“Don’t be silly. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt, and that Olivia wasn’t with you, or your boys. That spinout was pretty scary.”

 

I shake my head in wonder. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had hurt them.”

 

“We can’t protect them against everything." He frowns. “All we can do is make the judgment calls we feel are best, at any given time.”

 

“But that’s just it. We’re only human. Sometimes we get it wrong. Sometimes we screw up. Ted warned me about these tires being bald. I just haven’t made the time to buy new ones. Well, there’s still a couple of hours before school is out. I was on my way to the bank, but I think it’s best that I head over to Costco now and get them changed out.”

 

He laughs. “Hey, do you think that place has something called Lunchables? Temple is finally burned out on my peanut butter and banana sandwiches. That’s top of the list of my household duties today: bring home these Lunchables.”

 

It’s my turn to smile. “You’ve never been inside a Costco?”

 

“DeeDee did all the shopping. She even picked out my suits." He grimaces. "But hey, I’m game for anything now.”

 

A Costco virgin? This should be fun. “Tell you what: you follow me over, and while they’re changing my tires, I’ll give you a tour. And by the way, Olivia loved having Temple over. Do you think she’ll be up for it again, maybe later this week?”

 

“It’s a deal.” He reaches out again to shake my hand.

 

I take it again. But why do I have such a hard time letting it go?

_______________________________________________

  Copyright © 2010 by Josie Brown. Published in June 2010 by Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press. All rights reserved. Excerpted from SECRET LIVES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

CONTEST QUESTION:

Where is Lyssa headed before Harry comes to her rescue?

Email your correct answer to SecretLivesBook@gmail.com.
Please put "Toyota Excerpt" in the subject line.
Must be received no later than 12 midnight PT, on Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Pulitzer Prize and the Novel TINKERS: What Dreams May Come in Publishing

One of the hardest things to do is write a novel. I guess that's why everyone attempts to do so.

Even when you spin prose into gold, like Paul Harding has done with his book, Tinkers, you still have to overcome the reticence of those publishing industry decision makers (agents, then editors) that your book will somehow catch the zeitgeist and find an audience.

Even when word of mouth is enthusiastic, a book has to compete with those tried-and-true commercial (operative word here) bestsellers who come out the same month and also have three very big things working in their favor: "co-op" (the marketing push that gets a book on the front table beside the door, where 70 percent of most books are sold); vast distribution (not just independent bookstores, but large purchases from the chains, Barnes & Noble and Borders Books, as well as, perhaps some big box store sales, from Wal-Mart, Costco or Target; and most important of all author name recognition (James Patterson: I'm lookin' at YOU...)

Needless to say, I'm always happy to read a success story about a book that might have been mired in oblivion if it didn't get that extra push from somewhere. In the case of Mr. Harding, he had an angel of an editor (yes, they do exist: I am proof of that -- thank you Ms. M, of S&S!). He also had a sales person on his publishers team who became his advocate in the wilderness; and those at the front line of defense--the independent bookstores--recognized his genius, too. That is to be expected: they love books with a passion, and and always the first to recognize a great one and put the wind beneath its sales (pun intended, thank you).

The New York Times has done a marvelous job of telling Mr. Harding's journey from first book oblivion to Pulitzer prize winner. It is also quick to give a mea culpa for missing out in reviewing the book for its readers.

It's not in 3-D, and there is no three-act arc, but that's okay. I can't wait to read it.

(And maybe that's why),

—Josie

http://twitter.com/JosieBrownCA

Josie's Next Book: Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Downtown Press

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

In bookstores June 1, 2010. Order it TODAY!

"Hollywood's got nothing on the cast of characters living in the bedroom community of Paradise Heights, who have the secrets, sex, money and scandal of an OK! Magazine cover story. Josie Brown is a skilled observer whose clever dialogue and feisty style make for truly entertaining reading."

—Jackie Collins, bestselling author of Hollywood Wives and Poor Little Bitch Girl

April 19, 2010

Mr. Cinderella: From Rejection Notes to the Pulitzer
By MOTOKO RICH

IOWA CITY — Six years ago Paul Harding was just another graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop with a quiet little novel he hoped to publish. He sent copies of the manuscript, in which he had intertwined the deathbed memories of a New England clock repairer with episodes about the dying man’s father, to a handful of agents and editors in New York. Soon after, the rejection letters started to roll in.

“They would lecture me about the pace of life today,” Mr. Harding said last week over lunch at a diner in this college town, where he is now teaching at the workshop. “It was, ‘Where are the car chases?’ ” he said, recalling the gist of the letters. “ ‘Nobody wants to read a slow, contemplative, meditative, quiet book.’ ”

His manuscript languished in a desk drawer for nearly three years. But in perhaps the most dramatic literary Cinderella story of recent memory, Mr. Harding, 42, not only eventually found a publisher — the tiny Bellevue Literary Press — for the novel, “Tinkers,” he also went on to win the Pulitzer Prize for fiction last week. Within an hour of the Pulitzer announcement, Random House sent out a news release boasting of the two-book deal it had signed with Mr. Harding late in 2009. A few days later the Guggenheim Foundation announced he had received one of its prestigious fellowships.

The early rejection “was funny at the time,” Mr. Harding said. “And even funnier now.” Mr. Harding, a onetime drummer for a rock band, is far too discreet to name any of the agents or editors who wouldn’t touch his work a few years ago.

But he is quick to praise those who helped “Tinkers” become a darling of the independent bookstore circuit, including Erika Goldman, the editorial director of Bellevue, whom Mr. Harding described as a “deeply empathetic reader”; Lise Solomon, a sales representative in Northern California for Consortium, the book’s distributor, who passionately advocated for the novel with booksellers; and the booksellers and critics who embraced the book early on.

Although “Tinkers” sunk under the radar in some quarters (including The New York Times, which did not review it), it made several year-end best lists, including NPR’s best debut fiction and The New Yorker magazine’s list of reviewers’ favorites. According to Nielsen Bookscan, which tracks about 70 percent of retail sales, “Tinkers” sold 7,000 copies before the Pulitzer announcement.

Now many independent booksellers are claiming Mr. Harding’s victory as their own. “This shows how indie bookstores truly are the ones that can be movers and shakers when it comes to a book,” said Michele Filgate, the events manager at RiverRun Bookstore in Portsmouth, N.H., who raved about the book on Bookslut, a literary blog. As it turns out, it was Ms. Filgate who first told Rebecca Pepper Sinkler, a former editor of The New York Times Book Review and chairwoman of this year’s Pulitzer fiction jury, about “Tinkers” at a book-reviewing workshop Ms. Sinkler led in Manchester, N.H., last April.

In classes at Iowa Mr. Harding has become an instant celebrity, of course, but also, a reassurance. Marilynne Robinson, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of “Gilead,” Mr. Harding’s former teacher and now a friend, said last week in her workshop office that she had already repeated Mr. Harding’s story several times.

“One of the problems I have is making my students believe that they can write something that satisfies their definition of good, and they don’t have to calculate the market,” Ms. Robinson said. “Now that I have the Paul anecdote, they will believe me more.”

Mr. Harding is an avid reader of 19th-century novels, theological works (Karl Barth is his current favorite) and physics, making it hard to believe his claims that he was a poor student at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where he majored in English. The university does confirm that he took six years to complete his degree.

Wearing wire-framed glasses and a white button-down shirt tucked into Levi’s, he talked effusively, the antithesis of the taciturn father and son portrayed in “Tinkers,” a novel with sparse dialogue and large portions set inside the characters’ heads.

Framed partly as a deathbed vigil for George Washington Crosby, a clock repairer, the book wanders through time and consciousness, describing in fine-grain detail its rural Maine setting and the epileptic fits of George’s father, Howard, an old-time tinker who traveled the countryside by wagon.

The story’s genesis came from Mr. Harding’s own grandfather, who grew up in rural Maine and whose epileptic father abandoned the family when he learned that his wife, Mr. Harding’s great-grandmother, planned to send him to an asylum.

Mr. Harding spent his childhood in Wenham, Mass., a town not far from where he lives with his wife and two sons, and he went fly-fishing in northern Maine during the summers. He apprenticed with his grandfather in clock repair, and after graduating from college he recorded two albums and toured Europe with Cold Water Flat, the band he helped form at UMass.

The band fell apart (the usual: creative differences), and Mr. Harding decided to scratch another itch. He enrolled in a summer writing course at Skidmore College, where he took classes with Ms. Robinson.

With his application for the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, he submitted two stories, one of which was his first stab at “Tinkers.”

But for most of his time in Iowa Mr. Harding worked on a novel about a 12-year-old girl who disguised herself as a boy in order to work in a Mexican silver mine during the 16th century. As he graduated, he realized the novel didn’t work.

Once again the story of his grandfather beckoned. Turning back to it, he said, “was just such a sense of relief to not have to go looking in history books.”

After his first son was born and he was teaching expository writing to undergraduates at Harvard and creative writing to night-school students, the novel became an extracurricular project. “It got so it was guerilla writing,” Mr. Harding said. “I could flip open the laptop and start writing anywhere.” He wrote on bookmarks and the backs of receipts, transcribing the scraps into the computer later.

Finally, one Saturday night, he printed out his mishmashed computer file and laid it out on the living-room floor. Nursing a few fingers of whiskey, he cut up the document, stapling and taping sections into the structure that ultimately made it to publication.

Shortly after Ms. Goldman finally agreed to buy the book — paying a $1,000 advance — things began to go right. Ms. Robinson, who rarely gives blurbs, gave “Tinkers” a stellar one, calling it “truly remarkable.” Independent booksellers started to push it.

Meanwhile Ms. Sinkler began to champion “Tinkers” among her fellow Pulitzer jury members, Charles Johnson, the author of the National Book Award-winning “Middle Passage,” and Laura Miller, a senior writer at Salon.com. “I think that sentence for sentence, it was the most beautifully written and most gorgeous use of language of any of the books we looked at,” Ms. Sinkler said in a telephone interview.

Mr. Harding is working on his next novel, set in Enon, the fictional town where George dies, focusing on one of George’s grandsons, Charlie, and Charlie’s daughter, Kate.

The Pulitzer may change some worldly things, he said, but not how he works.

“I sort of feel like I know how I got here, every step of the way,” Mr. Harding said. “Something like this can befall me, and it won’t be catastrophic success.”

Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company

Trailer Smash: SENSE AND SENSIBILITY - Hope the Book Lives up to the Trailer

I'll admit it: I hate bastardizing classics. Especially those of dead authors who can't defend themselves and their labors of love and hard work.

Lately Jane Austen has gotten the brunt of these types of sequels, mashups, whatever. Some of the authors take wonderful care to get it right: the voice, the cadence, the mannerisms the stories. Yes, alright, the sense and the sensibility of Miss Austen's books. Sharon Lathan is a perfect example of this.

Not to mention that composer Rita Abrams has put Pride and Prejudice to song, in our musical version of it.

But Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? Get outta here.

Having sold enough units of that weak-kneed high concept, now the same pub hosue is mashing up Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters .

Yowch. 

Sigh.

Okay, I gotta admit: the book trailer (see below) is well done. And yeah, I'd see the movie if it came out.

But buy the book? Not on your life.

Although, I'm sure, enough people will.

Poor Jane.

Poor us.

—Josie

Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Pocket

(ISBN: 9781439173176)

Look for it in bookstores June 1, 2010

As Strange as FIction: Hollywood Actress Fights Porn Star for Stepchild

Every now and then real life is stranger than fiction. Ironically this is one of those situations.

Hollywood star, Sandra Bullock, and her husband, the renowned motorcycle mechanic/detailer and reality show celeb, are in a custody battle for for James' seven-year-old daughter with his ex-wife, former porn star, Janine Lindemulder.

Seriously, this scenario could have been taken from my 2006 novel, Impossibly Tongue-Tied, in which a phone sex operator -- in this case, a struggling actress -- gets kicked to the curb by her hubby, whose own acting career gets kicked into high gear when he stars -- and beds -- a high-profile Hollywood actress. The actress in my book decides that making the mother of his child look unfit in the press is one way to get the kid she wants, without the stretch marks. In truth, the heroine -- the sex phone operator -- only took on the job at the behest of her hubby, so that they could make ends meet.

Wanna read an excerpt? Here you go... And btw, you can still order it online at your favorite bookstore, too.

As for this real life case, I can't imagine that Bullock is as mean or as nasty as the actress/celeb in my book. Those that work with her say she's sweet, genuine, and a real pro on the set.

As for the Lindemulder, considering she's done over 100 porn flicks (including Mrs Behavin’, Sleeping Booty and Dyke Diner) and has just been released from jail for tax fraud, I'm guessing she's going to have an uphill battle with requesting full custody, more because of her current situation (she makes about $15 an hour, and yet pay back several hundred thousand in back taxes. It's going to be hard to raise a kid that way . . .

Unless she has help with child support from her ex.

In fact, I look at the issue of moms who leave their children in my new novel, Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives. It's due out in August 2010. 

Just do what's best for the child, always,

—Josie

Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives
Simon & Schuster/Pocket
(ISBN: 9781439173176)

Look for it in bookstores

August  2010

Danielle Steel: Aide Embezzled Hundreds of Thousands of Dollars!

Danielle Steel leads the lush life she writes about: gorgeous gowns, jewels, furs, mansions in San Francisco's tony Pacific Heights (the one she owns, the former Alma Spreckels mansion, is one of the city's showpieces) Because I'm all authors grabbing the brass ring and making it big, I applaud Ms. Steel's tenacity, and the body of work and fans that have paid it off.

Even as I walk past her stunning home, I hadn't fathomed just how MUCH money a financially successful novelist can make. I guess because so many of us -- make that TOO many -- don't make even enough to do our craft full time, if we want to eat and pay our rent, too.

I guess that's why, when I saw this newsbyte, you could have knocked me over with a feather.

With all due respect to Ms. Steel:

Hell yeah, if $400,000 was missing from my account (I'm sure it was taken in bits and pieces: you know, a thousand here, another thou there) I would have figured it out -- and fast!

Here's the report from the Associated Press:

Tue Sep 29, 12:46 am ET SAN FRANCISCO – A former aide to Danielle Steel is facing time in federal prison after admitting she stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from the romance novelist. Federal prosecutors announced Monday that 47-year-old Kristy Watts, who also goes by the name Kristy Siegrist, pleaded guilty last week to one count of wire fraud and four counts of tax evasion. Prosecutors say Watts admitted stealing at least $400,000 while handling accounting and other duties for Steel. Watts worked for the best-selling author from 1993 to 2008. Investigators determined Watts had deposited checks from Steel's accounts into her own account and used Steel's credit cards for herself. Sentencing is set for Feb. 4 in federal court in San Francisco.

I guess you can be too rich, if not too thin,

—Josie

My Next Book:

Secret Lives of
Husbands and Wives

Simon & Schuster/Pocket
September 22010

STF 1: "What Was That Boy Thinking?"

Me bad.

I haven't written in so long because, besides swapping a flu thing back and forth with Martin, I've had some serious family business.

To make up for it, I'm inauguarating a new column on this blog called STRANGER THAN FICTION. Would these newsbits make for fun novels, or would your agent or editor say, "Nah. Sounds too unrealistic..."?

You tell me.

I'll try to write this column around a theme. This first one truly lives up to it's title: "What Was That Boy Thinking?"

ITEM #!: Bat Boy and Sidekick Gets Their Due...
If you been watched AMERICAN IDOL last week, then you know about the two plucky dudes, who came armed more moxie than talent, but unfortunately were the but of Simon's ill-mannered remarks because of they way they looked, as opposed to how they can sing. Yeah, Simon, the public knows that this is supposedly a talent contest. That said, then why do your producers keep rolling tape (and airing it) on those with little hope of being chosen as finalists?

Well, duh. Because it makes great TV.

That said, I'm glad to see that these two guys, whose can-do attitudes catapulted them onto the couches of almost every national talk show, got the last laff -- and a well-deserved fifteen minutes of fame, despite being Simonized.

Thinking positive rocks.

NOVEL CONCEPT HERE:  The boys get their own Truman Show-esque Reality TV series -- and it beats IDOL's off-the-charts ratings.

Item #2: Too Uncool for School...
This one deserves truly deserves the "Earth to Idiot" award: A charter school in Phoenix allowed Neil Havens Rodreick II, a 29-year-old sex offender, to enroll as a 12-year-old seventh grader. He was enrolled for over sixty days before the truth came to light.

To the school's credit, they weren't the only ones to fall for the ruse: he'd pulled the same stunt at other schools, according to CNN, and gotten away with it no less in at least two of those.

Supposedly he fooled a couple of the 60-plus men he was living with, as well-- though it seems more likely that they were using him to scout and cajole likely victims.

NOVEL CONCEPT HERE:  I would have his teacher get an obsessive crush on him, and then kidnap him...

Yeah, I know: truly twisted.

Sad Baby Story...
The partially-mummified remains of a baby was found in a suitcase found in an abandoned Delray Beach, Florida storage locker before the auction of its contents. Authorities say that it looks as if the baby died in the 1950s. The deceased owners had owned the locker since 1996. However,, others had access to the locker as well....

NOVEL CONCEPT HERE: Wondering if the body is that of an unwanted older sibling, or if it is a clue to her parents' ongoing emotional conflicts, the daughter of the couple that owned the locker investigates her parents' past...

POTUS Operandi:
The Isreali president, Moshe Katsav, is being indicted on rape charges. Apparently four former staffers accused him of the act. SHEESH! Talk about sexual harrassment in the workplace!

NOVEL CONCEPT HERE: In the book version, not only would the president be a rapist, he will have killed his victim and covered it up...until the hero or heroine discovers the truth and brings up to justice...

Then again, wasn't that the plot of the 1987 film NO WAY OUT, with Gene Hackman, Kevin Costner and Sean Young?

If you've run across any news item that seems stranger than fiction, send it on over...