Chick Lit is not dead.

It’s not-we swear! And although we know that y’all are dying to discover the next big author, you’d probably be shocked to discover that we’re STILL being told by agents that Chick lit, or Upmarket women’s fiction, or whatever the hell they want us to call it these days, just doesn’t sell.

And to be perfectly honest, we’re tired of our gal Chick Lit feeling like she has to hide in the corner like some dirty slut. So we’re calling bullsh*t.  Chick Lit is NOT Dead!

Looking back, Chick Lit’s popularity was ultimately the death of her. Because when the market became over-saturated with a bunch of copycats with predictable plots and cardboard characters, she was catapulted down to the D-list faster than than you could say Snooki. She was accused of lacking substance, of being insulting to women’s intelligence and being *gasp* cliche’.

Poor Chick Lit became such an outcast in the publishing world that she couldn’t even be called by her own name anymore. Apparently, if she stood any chance of transforming from unbound manuscript to sleek, published novel, she had to be disguised as Women’s Fiction. And even then, the odds of her becoming Homecoming Queen again were pretty damn slim.

Aspiring novelists querying agents needed to beware! Titles that conjured images of stilettos were shunned; the mention of designer purses was literary suicide; and if the protagonist was *gulp* a quirky, single girl with dreams of meeting Mr. Right, the manuscript was sent off to die a very slow death in some slush (or should we say “slut”) pile.

Chick Lit had been pronounced dead, gone well before her time due to overexposure. And her writers and readers put on their black designer dresses and went into mourning.

Her headline in the gossip columns would have read, From It Girl to Out Girl. One Too Many Knock-offs Sealed Her Fate!

But like any former A-lister, we knew she’d make a come back. (If Hugh Grant could do it, so could she!) She just had to wait for her moment and seize it.

And the time is now! Here’s why we say Chick Lit has not only made a comeback, but she’s going to be on the scene for a while.

She’s our fantasy! Thinking about the crashing stock market and the record high unemployment rates hurts our heads. So instead of watching the nightly news, we’d rather pop open the book with a stick figure drinking a martini on the cover and give our brains the night off. If you can’t take a real vacation, at least give your brain one! Let your biggest worry be over whether Jane Q Single Gal gets to marry Joe Q Bachelor; whether frenemies can become friend-ly; if it’s a bad idea to get a manny.  Let her wrap your ending up in a nice red bow and don’t feel guilty about it for one second!

She’s a cheap date! Even though hard economic times have caused most of us to slash our budgets (Tarjay is so the new Nordys), Chick Lit is still making it into our shopping carts. She’s like that friend who talks you out of your buyer’s remorse.  She reminds you that it’s OK to spend money on things that make you feel better. In fact, she thinks it’s the American way! And even though a lot of us can’t justify buying that Louis Vuitton purse or getting that $200 haircut anymore, Chick Lit still gives a frugal girl some bang for her buck. If you get her in paperback, she’s only about $12. 95! This seems like an awesome price considering how often she makes us laugh, cry or even SOL (snort out loud!).  And BTW, Chick Lit is always up on the latest trends. And if she says cheap is the new chic, we believe her!

She’s Secure in her Stilettos Chick Lit is proud of who she is. She makes no apologies for drinking Cosmos or wearing designer skinny jeans. She’s never going to make the argument that she should win the Pulitzer or that she’s invented cold fusion.   And she definitely doesn’t think a book should require a thesaurus while reading! She loves a good rom-com too and couldn’t be happier that her cousin, Chick Flick is back on the red carpet again.

So to the literary snobs of the world, it’s time to face the truth. That Chick Lit is back and better than ever. And she’s back now for the very reason she exploded onto the literary scene in the first place. No good woman can resist well-written books with high fashion and happy endings.

So say it loud and proud, *channels Ty Pennington and yells into megaphone* CHICK LIT IS NOT DEAD!

What do you think?  Do you still want your happy ending? Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a $20 iTunes gift card!  Let’s let people know that we want some brain candy!

xoxo, Liz & Lisa

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

I’m a big fan of America’s Next Top Model.  Every week, I try to tune that narcissist Tyra out so I can enjoy all the highs, lows and cattiness in between that ANTM has to offer.

And even though I rarely take a picture that my eyes aren’t closed in, a little part of me looks down on those crazy beyotches each week when they just can’t seem to get their schmize on. (For you non-ANTM lovers, that’s when you smile with your eyes.  Tyra’s obsessed with it!)

So when our publicist finally leveled with us that using a photo that Lisa’s fiancee took in Vegas (after three hours at the Blackjack tables!) wasn’t going to cut it anymore, we decided to bite the bullet and get some professional shots taken. And even though I’ve always been photogenically challenged, I still held out hope that this photo shoot would somehow magically eliminate my double-chin or give me my own power-schmize.

Because (photo-shopping) miracles can happen, right?

Um, Wrong.

Lisa and I arrived to the studio, dressed in our bookish best with high hopes.  We tried to brush aside the fact that we were bound to girlfight over our same “good side” and that in over twenty years we’ve taken exactly three decent photos together. (and those were all snapped after a cocktail!)  And yes, while I will admit that, in the end, we did end up with five that we both liked, I’m here to discuss with you the other 150 pictures that, God-willing, will never see the light of day!

You see, you learn a lot about yourself when your picture is tossed up on a 30 foot screen to be dissected.  And I’d like to share those lessons with you so you too can can ace your next photo shoot. (If you’re foolish enough to participate in one!)

F*ck! Why can't we take a decent picture together!

DON’T PULL A LURCH

My mother has always to told me to sit up straight. But it wasn’t until three weeks ago that I understood why she was barking at me about it so much.  This slouch gave Deenie (sorry, abstract Judy Blume reference) a run for her money!  I seemed to gain fifteen pounds and age my boobs twenty years with each inch I slumped!

HEAD TILTS AREN’T CUTE FOR ANYONE OVER 8 YEARS OLD

I’ve been tilting my ass off for years.  In fact, some might say it’s one of my signature moves.  (I’m surprised my neck never got a cramp at Bobby McGees’s back in the day!) And until I saw it on film, I always had though of it as endearing.  So either I’ve always looked like a complete jackass or my tilt has gotten more severe in my thirties.  Because. It. Was. Out. Of. Control.

WHO KNEW THAT THERE IS A FINE LINE BETWEEN BOOKISH AND SOCCER MOM?

Lisa and I arrived at the studio in our librarian best after deciding on a “bookish” look. It was time for us to be taken seriously!  And while Lisa seemed to achieve this look with ease, my new soccer-momish do’ made it impossible for me to look like anything other then,well, a soccer mom headed to the Fall bake sale.  The lesson here: When in doubt, show more boobie!

IF YOU BARELY TURN ON YOUR CANON POWER SHOT, YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN’T BE A BOSSY BITCH AT YOUR PHOTO SHOOT!

It’s a proven fact that Lisa and I can be bossy.  Even when we don’t know what the f*ck we are talking about.  So we rolled in and proceeded to tell our kind and patient photographer what our good sides were, (we were wrong) what pose would work best, (wrong again!) and what our strengths and weaknesses were in front of the camera. (Completely. Totally. Wrong.)

But, each time, she indulged us.  But I didn’t miss the small smile on her face when we gasped as Lisa’s “Flat Stanley” appeared on the giant screen.  Or when my nose seemed to double in size on what I had insisted was “the ONLY side” I could take pictures on.

So we probably deserved it when we jokingly asked if we were “the least photogenic people she had ever photographed” and she actually pondered on it and paused for a moment before answering, “Um, no?”

So this post is for you, Lana.  Thank you for saving these two bossy bitches from themselves! xoxo

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

As writers, we do a lot of reading! (And we’re not just talking about Us Weekly!)  We’ve devoured everything from Patricia Cornwell to Candy Spelling.  From memoirs to mysteries…bestsellers to bombs.  And our favorite thing to do after reading the words, The End, is to dish about it with each other. It’s our book club for two (*cue sappy music*) where we discuss how a book made us feel.  Did we discard it after the third chapter or savor it like a delicious meal?

And was it so yummy that we might have even developed a little crush on its author too?…

For us, when we read something we REALLY LOVE, we don’t just fall in love with the book, we fall a little bit in love with the person who wrote it. We can start crushin’ pretty hard on that author who put fingers to keyboard, who created the plot and the characters and then mixed it all together to make a story that each time we read it, just keeps getting better…

And that’s exactly what happened when Lisa discovered Laura Dave.

It was love at first read when she found LONDON IS THE BEST CITY IN AMERICA on a New Fiction table at Barnes & Noble a few years back. She inhaled three chapters while sitting in the bookstore and finished it just a few hours later. And after Liz borrowed and read it, it’s not surprising that she fell for her too. (BTW–Lisa never told Liz, but she knew there would be a girl fight before she’d ever really share Laura Dave with her!)

So fast forward to this past May when Lisa was again back in Barnes & Noble. But this time, she wasn’t just shopping for books.

She sat there. Palms sweaty, heart racing, cheeks flushed.

She was about to meet someone she was really crushing on. No, it wasn’t a first date with a man or a chance encounter with Justin Timberlake. It was even better!

She was about to come face to face with her #1 writer crush! She was at signing for Laura Dave’s second and equally amazing book, THE DIVORCE PARTY.

But as she sat front and center (literally), 45 minutes early, she began to see the scene as Laura might. Lisa knew she must look like a crazy person as she white-knuckled her tattered copy of the DIVORCE PARTY for dear life, a perma-grin plastered across her face and sweat rings forming under her arm pits. Suddenly, she feared Laura might think she was some kind of book stalker and have security escort her out and promptly unfriend her on Facebook.  She began to beat herself up for not taking a seat in the back and playing a little hard to get.

After the reading (fell in love a little more) and the Q & A (too nervous to ask a question–but had so many!), Lisa waited in line trying to come up with the perfect words that would sound breezy and non stalker-like when she finally got the opportunity to have Laura sign her book.

But the magical words never came to her. And even though Lisa was a hot mess when she reached the front of the line, Laura was absolutely lovely. (No doubt, she’s seen it all!) And she even humored her and accepted a copy of Lisa and Liz’s book, I’LL HAVE WHO SHE’S HAVING!  But the icing on the cake was when she gave Lisa a giant hug and thanked her for giving her the copy of her book. Who does that? It was then that Lisa knew there would never be another author who could win her heart the way Laura Dave had.

So you can imagine our excitement to have Laura at our LA book signing as our special guest!

So come down and join us on this Saturday the 25th at Metropolis Books in downtown LA from 4-8pm. Bring your favorite bottle of wine to share with your girlfriends in the comfy sitting area!

In addition, the fabulous folks over at DXG USA have loaded each of our beach bag giveaways with the MOST fashionable and trendy high definition video camcorder you have ever seen. DXG’s new Luxe Collection (retail value $149.99) merges fashion (Chick Lit fans love fashion!) with technology. Designed with patterns and bling, and with matching cases, they look and feel like your favorite fashion accessory.  And each bag is filled with books from your favorite chick lit authors!  A big thank you to eBags for donating the SUPER CUTE bags by Saltbox and Make Love Not Trash!

Each person who has their book signed will be entered in a drawing to win these awesome bags! The drawing will take place at 6pm, and you must be present to win! Good luck!

So grab your girlfriends (blondes, brunettes, and cougars!) — and boyfriends (we love men who dig Chick Lit!) — and head over to Metropolis Books in downtown L.A. (440 S. Main St. L.A. 90013) for a fun night out. And join us for drinks after to continue the Chick Lit Fan Night Out. Details at the event.

See you there!

Xoxo,

Liz & Lisa

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

The May 1st release of Ghosts of Girlfriends Past got us thinking about how the world is getting smaller and smaller.  Remember the good ol’ days when you could just speculate about what all your exes were up to?  Now you can find just about anybody in two clicks on Facebook and, for us, it kind of takes the romance out of it.  I mean, how can we fantasize about the one that got away when we find out that instead of becoming a physical therapist he’s been delivering packages for FedEx for the past ten years?

So, in tribute to what we hope will be a wonderful movie with a happy ending, here are Liz and Lisa’s Ghosts of Boyfriends Past…
Disclaimer: Dates and certain events have been changed in an effort to protect the identity of our ghosts.

LISA’S GHOSTS

The Husband

I was married once, sort of.

I got a long-term boyfriend practically the second my UGG boots hit the pavement of my college campus. Apparently this guy didn’t mind my unibrow or the twenty-five pounds I packed on as I single-handedly kept Carl’s Jr. in business. Already showing signs of becoming a serial monogamist, (dated the Mullet Man for a year in high school) I jumped at the chance to be in another relationship.

Sure! I’ll give up all opportunities to make out with young, hot, frat boys with rock hard abs and stamina so I can “settle down” at the age of 19!

WTF?

At least my “hubby” had a great body. Well, a great body that, allegedly, he was sharing with others…

According to sources, he may have been doing a lot more than guzzling beer bongs at his fraternity mixers. And although his indiscretions were never confirmed, I did find a wonder bra in his closet once. And panties under his bed that other time. (A fraternity prank, he swore!) Oh, and there was also that day his other girlfriend called.

And even though we could put some Jerry Springer guests to shame with the way we argued, we thought it would be a fantastic idea to move in together!

I even bought a leather chair and matching ottoman. *cue gag sound*

I became the consummate nagging wife. Why weren’t you home right after class? You never do the dishes! You need to stop seeing your other girlfriends!

When it ended, I vowed that it was finally time to be the sorority slut I never got the chance to be! I was free!

Well, until The Egomaniac commanded my attention.

The Egomaniac

It was a short, but loving relationship. Oh so loving.

The egomaniac was incredibly devoted. He really  knew how to love, praise and worship…

Himself.

So when the egomaniac left me, I wasn’t surprised about the person he left me for…

Himself.

After the egomaniac told me he was no longer in love with me and madly in love with himself, I cried…

Tears of joy! (And Bob Steinke danced a jig!)

What a relief! My arms hurt like hell from holding him up on that damn pedestal. I was exhausted! Turns out, it was a good thing I took a year off from dating, because I was going to need all my energy for flying around in Never Never Land.

Peter Pan

It would be so much easier if men told you exactly who they were on the first date. If Peter Pan had done that, our date would have gone something like this:

Peter Pan: “Hi, I’m 35 and I never want to grow up; I play Nintendo during all of my free time; I have a weekly (even if I’m on my death-bed) date, not with you, but with my man-boyfriends; I’m still best friends with all of my ex-girlfriends who, BTW, are all still madly in love with me; Oh, and I have a slight Oedipus complex. So tell me about you…”

Me: “Check please.”

But that’s not how things went down. I found him handsome and charming. He was smart, had a sexy job and was a homeowner. He seemed so grown up and ready to settle down! How did I get so lucky?

Well, I gambled on the wrong man-boy. In my armchair psychologist opinion, he was a textbook commitment-phoebe. He wouldn’t admit to being afraid of commitment, he was just really picky; He kept all his broken-hearted exes at arm’s length (Liz called it his menagerie) just in case. In fact, the framed picture of his most recent ex was still sitting next to his bed until I kindly asked him to take the f***ing thing down!

I finally told Peter Pan our “fairy tale” was over after he freaked out when a drunk, homeless guy slurred that we looked very much in love as we walked by his shopping cart.

Then I bought the guy a forty and gave him twenty bucks for saving my life.

LIZ’S GHOSTS

Wannabe Romeo

I met Wannabe Romeo at a training class for my first real job after college.  He chatted me up while I checked in and faster you could say 401K we were completely hammered in the hotel bar. It was a whirlwind week and by the end of it I was convinced I had met someone really special.  Too bad he lived on the other side of the country.  Oh well, right?

Fast forward to three months and three visits later when we made the BRILLIANT decision to move in together.  Because it’s meant to be!  Kismet!  Not only do I have a real job, now I’m going to play house too!  I’ve officially arrived!

Six months later… Um…we don’t have as much in common as we thought.  And I found a girl’s number in his pocket last week.  But I’m sure it will be fine.

Six months after that…  Yeah, I don’t know about this.  Why didn’t he mention his affinity for Medieval swords and his passion for history?  And he’s really friendly with other women, especially my mom. It’s kind of creepy, even though my mom is a total Coug…

Nine months later…  Made the walk of shame out of a party last night after wannabe Romeo almost got his ass kicked last night at a party for fondling someone’s wife.  And I’ve been starting to spend a lot of time with BFF and think about Boy Toy.

Two weeks later…It’s over  The only thing I’m sad about is that I waited so long to leave.  But I’ll be okay.  I’ve got the BFF and Boy Toy to comfort me.

The BFF aka The Safety Net

He was always there for me. I cried on his shoulder about Wannabe Romeo and he helped me move my stuff out of the apartment.  And okay, I guess I knew the BFF wanted to us to be BF/GF. And while there was no one else I’d rather spend time with (except for Boy Toy!)  It just didn’t seem right. And not even his high-paying job, beachfront apartment or super sweet family could change the fact that kissing him felt like kissing my brother. I even tried getting completely smashed and tried again.  Nope, then it just felt like kissing my brother while drunk.  Even a crazy trip to Mexico didn’t bring me on board. I’ve never tried so hard to love someone in my life.

Letting go of The Safety Net was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.  But I think we both knew it was time for me to take a leap of faith.  Too bad his super sweet family STILL hates me for it!

The Boy Toy

Watching your boyfriend hit on other women constantly can really get a girl down. But I give Boy Toy full credit for putting the swagger back in my step.  Boy Toy was super-easy on the eyes and never said no to a midnight drunk-and-dial. And although he wasn’t going to create cold fusion, he served his purpose well. I didn’t even mind that I had to explain what quirky meant and who Jane Austen was.  I’d never felt so smart and sexy in my life!

But even though our random rendezvous gave me something to look forward to, I soon grew tired of watching Beavis and Butthead incessantly and his inability to be on time.  It was time to say goodbye so I could concentrate on finding a man that understood the difference between your and you’re and could spell Mississippi.  But I’ll always be thankful to Boy Toy for helping me get my groove back.

xoxo

Liz and Lisa

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

Our first book signing tour was this past weekend in the Midwest. First, we’d like to give a big thank you to all of the WONDERFUL ladies who hosted us. Laurie and  Jacki; Kristin and the women of Serendipity; And Jamie and Cathy. And we’d also like to give a shout out to all of the AWESOME Chick Lit loving women we met–and instantly friended–on our mobile Facebooks. (Hey, we’re whores, we don’t waste any time!)

Well now that we’re home, we decided that after you embark on a journey that mixes poorly caffeinated airport travel, the uncanny ability to sit next to multiple non-hint taking Chatty Cathys in every terminal, drunken public speaking and the inability to remember the name of a person who has your own name, that we should establish some rules of the road for next time.

NEVER, EVER, EVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF A VENTI AMERICANO

There are certain times you should probably never talk to me.

Before coffee. Before coffee. And, um, Before coffee.

This is one of the many “lovely” things Liz and I have in common. So you’d think that knowing this…that understanding if ONE of us can be a bee-yotch face before Starbucks that the TWO of us together could, well, be f***ing bee-yotch faces…that we’d NEVER, EVER, under any circumstances skip our Venti Americanos….especially before a four-hour flight.

Not so much last week.

The morning of our trip to Chicago, Liz was frantically trying to get everyone what they needed before she left for the weekend (A husband, two kids, two dogs and some prima donna guinea pigs!). And I was at Ride-Aid buying her every shape and size of the 3-ounce size travel containers and a box of the FAA approved quart-sized Ziplocs for her moose, perfume, shampoo, conditioner, hairspray, toothpaste, two moisturizers and four different lip glosses. (I had to bribe her to carry-on because there was no way in HELL I was stepping foot in that O’Hare baggage claim! ) So I didn’t see her desperate Facebook message on my wall.

Rough morning! Please stop at Starbucks and tell me I look like I’ve lost weight the minute you see me.   Thank you!

Because the thing is, if you properly caffeinate us, we can handle anything… A ridonckulously long security line, a pervy TSA agent with a foot fetish and even a loud talking Boston accented seat-mate with body odor.

IF you properly caffeinate us.

So there we were at the Long Beach airport that we usually heart so much because it’s so small that they board the passengers old-school by leading them out to the tarmac and rolling out a makeshift staircase. Usually so easy. But it’s amazing how an airport experience can change when you realize your only option to turn your day around is a pot of coffee that was probably brewed eight hours earlier by a woman in a hair net. Let’s just say even after I dumped six bags of sugar in mine and Liz filled hers to the rim with cream, it still tasted like ass in a cup.

DON’T BE A FLAT STANLEY
You know how celebrities talk about their “good side” and their “bad side” when they pose for photo shoots? Well, I always thought that was a complete load of bulls**t. I mean, how different could someone really look if they faced the camera from the left v. the right?

Turns out, pretty damn different.

My photographic light bulb moment happened before our first book signing while Liz and I were posing for pictures. We were ready to roll, wearing our sassy dresses and Liz sporting her curly hair. I stood on the left and Liz on the right. Behind the camera, Matt was snapping away with a concerned expression as he checked the LED screen after each shot.

WTF? I asked.  Then I grabbed the camera and gasped.

“OMG. I’m a f***ing Flat Stanley!”

Liz and Matt pulled the camera away from me and evaluated the pictures. And through maniacal laughter, they agreed. “You look like you, but one off. You are a cardboard cut out of yourself!”

So, after much practice, we discovered that my left side is really pretty damn bad. If I angle it toward the camera, I look like a Flat Stanley. And if I open my eyes a little too wide, I look like Flat Stanley, The Runaway Bride. Apparently if I want any chance at a good photo, I have to be on the right side, tilt my head to the left and my chin downward. And then, as if that’s not enough, I still have to angle the right side of my face toward the camera. (WTF?)

The anti-Stanley solution seemed simple—I’d just switch sides with Liz.

Not so fast, she said.

Because just like our major in college, our choice of sorority and even our affinity for Midwestern men, we also have the same f***ing good side!

And so began what we like to call The Fight for the Right! Stay tuned for more pictures to see who won…

KNOW YOUR LIQUID COURAGE COCKTAIL OF CHOICE
I was pretty nervous about talking in front of the groups at our book signings. To put it mildly, my past public speaking attempts had been disastrous-all involving a red face, huge sweat rings and the inability to form a sentence. I was pretty sure if I attempted to utter a word about our book, It would go something like this:

Buy our book. It’s real good. Thanks for coming. Bye!

When I confessed my fears to Liz, she gave me her crooked smile. “You don’t think we’re going to do this sober, do you?”

“Er, I’m on the wagon, remember?” (A story I’ll save for another post–but I had been alcohol free for 29 days.)

She knowingly pointed her finger at me. “Blondie, I’m going to let you in on my secret recipe for public speaking success. Cocktails plus no food equals great entertainment!”

I was off the wagon faster than you can say dirty martini.

And let’s just say that after two, er, three and a half of them, I was very comfortable in front of a group. Maybe even a little too comfortable…Turns out, as a buzzed public speaker, I’ll tell you which characters in our book are incredibly thinly veiled and how much of the book is autobiographical!

Liz’s secret recipe also had another side effect…You run the risk of being unable to remember a name–even if it’s the same as your own. So Liz and I would like to take this opportunity to give an extra special shout out to the other LIZ…whose name our own Liz could not remember…

Even after talking to her for twenty minutes.

But at least when Liz puts her foot in her mouth, she’s wearing a really sassy shoe!

PRACTICE HIDING YOUR WTF FACE

We’ve been friends for so long that we pretty much have the same brain and we think a lot of the same thoughts. We actually have mental telepathy…and it really comes in handy in social situations. Like when you can’t exactly say what’s on your mind because you might, well, offend-EVERYONE.

We can talk serious shit with a simple eyebrow raise, the ever so slight narrowing of an eye or a partial smirk. So, as I’m sure you can imagine, this superpower can be incredibly helpful when we want to scream to each other that the chatty Carl sitting next to us in the terminal is a DOUCHE BAG who needs to shut the f**k up! Or when we want to scream that the guy in the skinny jeans with a male version of a camel toe SUCKS for blocking the aisle as he tries to stuff his over-sized suitcase in the overhead bin.  And when you meet two stuffy women at one of your book signings.

Usually when people ask us what  I’ll Have Who She’s Having is about and we tell them it’s the story of two sisters who fall for the same man—and one of those sisters just happens to be married, the response is usually along the lines of  That sounds juicy! or What a fun read!  Or if it’s not their cup o’ tea (which we totally understand!) they politely move on from our table.

Well here’s how it went down when two ladies (let’s call them “Mrs. Stick Up My Ass” and “Mrs. Even Bigger Stick Up My Ass”) approached us at one of the signings.

Mrs. Stick up my ass: “What’s your book about?”

Liz: “It’s about two sisters who fall for the same man. And one of those sisters is married!”

*cue crickets*

Mrs. Even Bigger Stick up my ass with scowled expression finally speaks: “Married. Really. Hmm.”

Liz: “Yes, but she just had her first baby and she’s lost and she doesn’t feel connected to her husband…”

Mrs. Stick up my ass: “Hmm…”

Lisa: “We also have a blog. Why don’t you take one of our cards and you can read more about us and our book…”

Mrs. Even bigger Stick up my ass picks up the card and holds it between her pointer finger and thumb as if it’s covered in swine flu germs.

*cue more crickets*

Liz and I look at each other and smile our, we’ll definitely blog about this smile.

*cue mental telepathy moment*

Liz: WTF?

Lisa: They both need to get f***ing laid by Tim Fortune.

xoxo, Liz & Lisa

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

Liz doing her best impression of a distinguished alumni author.

Who says you can’t go back?

Lisa and I were honored to be recognized last week by our Alma Mater, Cal Poly Pomona as part of the Golden Leaves library program. We were proud to be included with many other distinguished alumni authors!

We were told to prepare a little something to say, but with Lisa was out of town,   my limited public speaking skills and I were left to fend for ourselves. So I put on my naughty librarian suit and dragged my husband along to take pictures.  And as we walked through the newly remodeled Library, I tried in vain to remember spending time in there as a coed.  But besides recalling one all-night study session with someone I was crushing on and an odd Lexis-Nexis flashback , I couldn’t even remember checking out a book!  My husband was very perplexed by this.  How did I graduate?  And I told him that I did what I always do.

I winged it!

That’s right, people.  I don’t like to over-prepare.  Outline, schmoutline!  Test?  Let’s skim the material and see what sticks.  Giving a speech at the library for published alumni authors?  Just get up there and see what comes to mind!

And so that’s what I did.  I told myself not to be intimidated that I’ll Have Who She’s Having was sitting on a table next to In Sputnick’s Shadow: The President’s Science Advisory Committee and Cold War America.   Or that the lady before me was reading about Chaucer.  Or the fact that the Dean of the Library kept talking about pedagogy and I had no idea what that was.

When my name was called, I took a deep breath and made sure I had appropriate cleavage showing. Don’t judge, I was just playing to my strengths.  And what I may be lacking in vocabulary, I make up for in boobs!

Then I sauntered up to the podium and told them about our journey to publication.  How every agent out there, said, Like this manuscript a lot but sorry, Chick lit is dead, maybe take out some pop culture references and call it Women’s fiction?...That Lisa and I looked around at all our educated women friends that were DYING for a good book with a happy ending and said SCREW THAT!  CHICK LIT IS ALIVE AND WELL!  That’s right, I told them.  Get ready people, because women want to read GOOD books about other women.  And we want movies made from these books!  And no, we won’t call it Women’s fiction so you can feel better about reading it!  IT’S CHICK LIT, DAMNIT!

Okay, so maybe I didn’t say it quite like that.  But I did say screw.  And crap.  But not f*ck. I didn’t think it would be cool to drop an F bomb when the President of the University was sitting five feet in front of me.

And then, because I hadn’t really um, *cough*, prepared, I just starting saying stuff.  I  told them that sometimes my brain likes to go on vacation. And when my brain packs up and heads out on vacation, it doesn’t want to read about someone’s kid dying or molecular biology. My brain wants to have a margarita, a happy ending and some chips with guacamole.  In that order.

And after that, I proudly held up I’ll Have Who She’s Having and said they should pick up a copy if their brain wants a vacation too!

blah, blah, blah, Chick lit rules, blah, blah

And while I’m sure that some in that room just dismissed me as a dumb blonde with a fluffy book, there were others who came up to me after and told me they agreed.  And in that moment, I knew that I made the right choice to take a stand for Chick lit. To show them who I really am…

A thirty-something girl with too much shit going on that sometimes just wants a good book and a glass of wine.  Oh, and liposuction.  But that can wait.  For now I’ll take the wine and book.

xoxo

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

As some of you may have heard, my oldest brother was in a terrible car accident late Thursday night.  So this blog is coming to you live from the Twin Cities hospital ICU. The good news is that things seem to be looking up and I am very thankful for all your kind thoughts and prayers.

Now before you start thinking it’s in bad taste to be blogging and Facebooking while my brother is fighting for this life, this is just how I deal.  I come from a long line of emotionally unavailable women(aka living robots) that use humor inappropriately in time of crisis.  And quite frankly, the doctor just wrote us all some Xany and I need to get this blog written before it kicks in!  Even a robot like me could use a little prescription help to get through this.

When the frantic call from my mom came in early Friday morning, I rushed to get ready for the four-hour drive to the Central Coast.  After throwing some mismatched clothes in my overnight bag, (You should see the outfit I’m wearing! horrible! Lucky for me the people in Paso Robles think a fanny pack is fashion forward.)I immediately went to my bookshelf. 

Knowing I would be spending the next several days at his bedside, I was very thoughtful in my book selections.  Not just for myself, but for my family too.  When you go into these situations, you really want to bring something to the table, to feel like you are helping in any small way.  And even if I can’t be emotionally sensitive, at least I can provide proper reading material! 

LIZ’S TRAUMA DRAMA BOOK LIST

For my sister-in-law:

1. My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler

Obviously, my first thought was comfort for my brother’s wife.  What does one read to be distracted from the fact that your husband has a thousand tubes coming out of him? I decided Chelsea’s graphic book about her vagina adventures while in her twenties was just the ticket. Also, each chapter stands alone as a short story, making it easy for my sister-in-law to feel like she was accomplishing something each time she finished one.  And I like to think that this small milestone will make her Type A overacheiving-self feel a little bit of control in a situation she has no control over.

For my Mom

2.  One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell

My mom’s book choice was bit tougher.  This woman never sits down and spends so much time on her cell phone that I’m surprised it hasn’t melded to her ear.  So finding a book that will hold her attention is quite the challenge. I thought this story about the tenants in an upscale building in New York City might just be able to do it. And if she ever gets off the phone I’m going to ask her to take a look at it. 

For the BFF

3. I’ll Have Who Have She’s Having by Liz Fenton and Lisa Steinke

Of course I brought this too!  What better way to force people to read your book than when they are trapped in a barren ICU waiting room for days at a time?  The funniest part of this is that the BFF is a 50 something guy who picked up our book in desperation last night.  The even funnier part is that he couldn’t put it down and keeps peppering me with questions about Kate and Kelly!  But, hey, a fan is a fan.  I’m not picky!

For the beautiful sister(um, that’s me, in case you were wondering):

4.  Eclipse by Stephanie Meyer

Although I’m not afraid to admit that Bella and Edward bug the shit out of me sometimes, their werewolf versus vampire teenage angst can really take your mind off what’s really going on!  For me, I like my crisis fiction to be as far away from my real life as possible.  Cuz that’s how I roll! 

And anything is better than the copy of Arthritis Today on the table that keeps calling my name!

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

If you live locally or feel like traveling to Seal Beach (not a half-bad place to visit!), please join us this Friday, February 13th @ Main Street Wine Cellar for our first book signing soiree!

Moms & dads–call your sitters–you need a night out!

“Singles”, “in relationships”, whatever your story is–we’d love you to join us!

We’ll have copies of our book and the backdrop will be a hip wine bar. What better combination than books & wine is all we have to say!

Friday February 13th 6-7:30pm

Main Street Wine Cellar
302 Main Street
Seal Beach

Main Street Wine Cellar

Hope to see you there!

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.

We just got the call that I’ll Have Who She’s Having is finally here and available for purchase at the Makdan site and Amazon.com!

Here are the links:

http://www.makdanpublishing.com/proddetail.asp?prod=280601295

OR

http://www.amazon.com/Ill-Have-Who-Shes-Having/dp/0981928315/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1233356463&sr=8-2

We are so excited!  We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.  Don’t forget to stop by Amazon to write a review after you finish!

©2010 Chick Lit Is Not Dead. All Rights Reserved.